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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..b39ea03 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #66875 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/66875) diff --git a/old/66875-0.txt b/old/66875-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 86293c8..0000000 --- a/old/66875-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,6367 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Cameronians, Volume 3 (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: The Cameronians, Volume 3 (of 3) - A Novel - -Author: James Grant - -Release Date: December 3, 2021 [eBook #66875] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -Produced by: Al Haines - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CAMERONIANS, VOLUME 3 (OF -3) *** - - - - - - - THE CAMERONIANS. - - A Novel. - - - BY - - JAMES GRANT, - - AUTHOR OF - 'THE ROMANCE OF WAR,' 'OLD AND NEW EDINBURGH, ETC. - - - - IN THREE VOLUMES. - VOL. III. - - - - LONDON: - RICHARD BENTLEY AND SON, - Publishers in Ordinary to Her Majesty the Queen. - - 1881. - - [_All Rights Reserved._] - - - - - CONTENTS OF VOL. III. - - - - CHAPTER - - I. NEWS AT LAST! - II. THE COINCIDENCE - III. EAGLESCRAIG ONCE MORE - IV. THE DIVIDED PAIR - V. A STRANGE ACCUSATION - VI. A FATAL PROOF FOUND - VII. CECIL'S VISITOR - VIII. BAFFLED! - IX. CROSS PURPOSES - X. THE TELEGRAM - XI. A DARK PREDICTION - XII. THE RECONNAISSANCE - XIII. THE WAYSIDE CHAPEL - XIV. THE BATTLE OF ZAITCHAR - XV. A RIDE FOR LIFE OR DEATH! - XVI. WHAT THE 'TIMES' TOLD - XVII. MARY'S LETTER - XVIII. THE HEIGHTS OF DJUNIS - XIX. WOUNDED - XX. SAVED! - XXI. 'THE END CROWNS ALL' - - - - -THE CAMERONIANS. - - - -CHAPTER I. - -NEWS AT LAST! - -From such terrible episodes and scenes as those that close our last -chapter, and from such a land of wild barbarity, we gladly turn -homewards for a time. - -It was summer; and the season had scattered its roses and their -leaves lavishly over the old Scoto-French garden of Eaglescraig, for -such it was, with its closely-clipped privet hedges, its long grass -walks, balustraded terraces, mossy sundials, and parterres, where -deep box-edging was alternated by flower borders running along the -paths, and where wall-flowers, sweet-williams, and tiger lilies, with -moss and Provence roses, were varied by espaliers that in the coming -time would be laden with fruit. - -The summer was in its glory, but there was not much brightness within -the house of Eaglescraig. So Cecil, who had latterly met with such -scanty kindness from Sir Piers, was actually his grandson, and the -honours of the old line were perhaps neither to die out, or pass to a -far-away branch, after all! - -John Balderstone had proved all this, and great were the content and -glee thereat among the old visitors of the mansion; there being no -regrets for Hew being 'scratched,' as he called it, 'and out of the -running now,' for his general bearing had rendered him obnoxious to -every one. - -'So the whirligig of time brings about its revenge,' said old Tunley, -the butler; 'pride always goes before a fall.' - -'Yes!' coincided John Balderstone, with an angry smirk on his face; -'now, Master Hew may go to Hecklebirnie!' - -'Where is that?' - -'Three miles beyond--well, a very warm place, as our Scots proverb -has it,' added the factor, as he drained a stiff jorum in Mr. -Tunley's pantry. - -Mrs. Garth rejoiced openly at the change that had come to pass. - -'It would have been unnatural indeed,' she said, 'that a girl so -sweet and sensitive as Mary should have been mated to Hew, whose -actions, nature, and habits would have jarred on her softer nature -perpetually.' - -And Sir Piers heard her, ever and anon, making such remarks as this, -without according the angry response they would once infallibly have -elicited; while to Mary the relief was inexpressible! But meantime, -where was Cecil now? This question was ever in her mind, causing an -aching, gnawing anxiety there, amounting to positive physical pain; -and she heard it daily on the lips of all around her, Hew excepted; -and once in his cups the latter expressed to John Balderstone a -fierce hope that the absent heir might be----' - -'Stop, sir!' cried John; 'where?' - -'Oh, anywhere,' replied Hew, with an angry gloom in his -bilious-looking eyes; 'I am not particular as to climate, or -locality.' - -So far as Mary was concerned, his occupation was gone, like his hopes -of everything now; and, gentle and tender though she was, Mary, -remembering all the past, could feel no pity for him. - -'Dear old Snarley!' she once exclaimed, catching up her pet terrier, -and then talking at Hew; 'you, at least, have always loved me for -myself alone--no thought have you of fortunes or acres, of rent-rolls -and bank-notes; you would rather have a marrow-bone, than -all--wouldn't you, my darling doggie?' - -And Hew eyed her, and the dog too, viciously. He could no longer, as -before, coarsely and vulgarly, taunt Mary with the obscurity of -Cecil's birth, now that it was proved beyond all doubt to be superior -to his own; neither could he avail himself now, as before, of the -general's countenance and support, since his rival was the real heir -of line and entail; while he was but a penniless dependent. - -How bitterly and unwillingly, again and again, he anathematised the -hour, in which that--to him--fatal packet was so inopportunely -discovered by John Balderstone, and its blighting contents brought to -light! - -Had it only, by fate, been left forgotten, unknown in its place of -concealment, for a year or so more, all might have gone well with -him; but now--now--he could only curse heavily and grind his teeth in -the impotency of his wrath and the deep bitterness of his -disappointment. - -'All the world's a stage, and the men and women only players;' but he -who had played the deliberate villain in the drama of Cecil's life as -yet, was still unmasked, and Hew grinned with malicious triumph as he -thought of that. - -The generous Sir Piers felt that he owed Hew some reparation for the -loss of his Indian appointment, and the heavy blight that had fallen -on all the prospects once before him; and he hoped that if Hew would -only settle down to work and study, that something--he knew not -precisely what--might be done for him yet; but Hew, exasperated by -the trick fortune had played him, and the humiliating change in his -position, had taken heavily to the bottle of late, and his naturally -savage nature became at times inflamed to the verge of madness. - -Mary was inevitably lost to him now; and that which he deemed much -more important--her money! But if Cecil could be -removed--crushed--destroyed--thrust out of his path and of this life -too--he, Hew, would again be the heir of entail--heir to Eaglescraig -and the baronetcy. - -But where was Cecil now? - -Could he but discover him--could he but cross his path, he would not -be over particular about how he got rid of him; and at such times -dark and terrible thoughts possessed him. - -To drown care, and as a source of excitement, he had plunged deeper -into his dissipations; he had become a more frequent visitor at -race-courses, where a very little of his own money went into the -pockets of others, while a good deal of the money of others accrued -to him, by some mysterious process. He also stuck to his card -playing--écarté being, as of old, his favourite game; and unless each -rubber thereat represented a sum larger than he deemed sufficient to -give zest to the game, even écarté had no charms for him. - -Some of his escapades drew upon him the indignation of the general, -and feeling himself all but discarded, his absences from Eaglescraig -became longer and more frequent; so that none there knew precisely of -his haunts or whereabouts, till the portly Mr. Tunley brought the -startling intelligence one day that 'after a terrible bout of -delirious trimmins, Master Hew was--or believed himself to be--dying, -at the Montgomerie Arms Inn,' where he prayed the general in pity to -come and see him once again. - -Accompanied by a medical adviser and old John Balderstone, Sir Piers -at once rode to the old posting-house indicated; and there, pale, -wan, hollow cheeked, and with eyes unnaturally sunk and bloodshot, he -found his once favoured protégé in a state that shocked him. - -Hew was far from dying yet, as the doctor averred; and Sir Piers -too--he 'had seen too much of that sort of thing up country, not to -know all about it;' but, in his lowness and perturbation of spirit, -Hew firmly believed that the hour of his demise was close indeed; and -clinging to the hand of Sir Piers, while moaning and sobbing, he -confessed how he had cheated and swindled often, and how he had -maligned Cecil in many ways, and more than all, the cruel trick he -had played him, on the night of the ball, by drugging his wine. - -He uttered a veritable howl of dismay, and fell back in his bed, when -he saw the sudden expression of horror, rage, and shame, that mingled -in the face of the honourable old soldier, in whose heart there -swelled up a great emotion of pity for Cecil. - -He fiercely withdrew his hand from Hew's despairing and tenacious -clutch, and started back a pace from the bed whereon the culprit lay. - -'It is well that we have all heard this confession of a crime, as -black as assassination--a confession which I request you both to -commit to memory, and you, John Balderstone, most carefully to -writing. As for you, sir,' he added, with a withering glance at Hew, -'I shall never look upon your face again, and now leave you with the -doctor and your own conscience, if you have such a thing about you! -Order my horse,' he concluded, as he rang the bell, and quitted the -room without glancing again at Hew, whose wasted face was buried in -the pillows, among which he was groaning heavily. - -Buried in deep, anxious, and angry thoughts--angry with himself -too--the general rode slowly home. - -So--so--this was the secret and true character of Hew Montgomerie--a -blackleg--a cheat--the perpetrator of a great villany, on an innocent -man! 'When anything in which we have most believed, grows shadowy -and unreal, we are apt to grow unreal to ourselves;' and the general, -who had once believed greatly in Hew, now knew not what to think. - -'Jealousy and avarice are the meanest of passions,' he thought, and -terribly had Hew given full swing to both. 'Jealousy, I know, has -driven people to incredible acts of deceit; but this act of Hew's has -been, beyond all calculations, infamous!' - -'It has been just as my heart foreboded!' said Mary to Mrs. Garth, -when the revelation reached them, and the measure of her horror of -Hew was now full. She then thanked Heaven for her wealth, that she -might share it with the bruised and the fallen; but whither was he -gone? - -Alas! no one could find the smallest clue to it. - -After the revelation, which fear of death had wrung from him, Hew -recovered rapidly, and made many a solemn promise 'to eschew -horseflesh and bits of painted pasteboard;' but it was only a case of -'the devil was sick,' etc., for when well he plunged into his old bad -courses, far exceeding the allowance the general so generously made -to him, and then he disappeared for a time. - - -Autumn had come now; the crops had been gathered, and the gleaners -were busy on the upland slopes and fertile braes of Cunninghame and -Kyle; the last of the high-piled wains had gone homeward over the -furrowed fields and through the leafy grass lanes that led to the -picturesque rickyard; the fern and heath-covered wastes were in all -their beauty, the great gorse-bushes in all their golden bloom, and -the woodlands wore many a varied hue, from dark-green to russet-brown -and pallid yellow. - -Since the discovery made by John Balderstone, and the revelations of -Hew, the general had been rather a changed and broken-down man; but -he now clung to Mary Montgomerie more than ever, and daily she drove -him in her pony-carriage--the same in which Cecil was wont to -accompany her, wrapped cosily up in the skins of animals he had shot -in India--handling the ribbons so prettily with her gauntleted little -hands, and always comporting herself so sweetly and tenderly to him, -and just as a favourite daughter would have done. - -He felt that a great crime had been committed against one who was his -own flesh and blood; and that, in ignorance, he had condoned that -crime; and, more than all, in society had visited it with all the -acrimony he deemed due and proper to the occasion. - -'I have again been guilty of rash judgment--of indiscretion and of -cruelty!' he said again and again to himself in secret; and his mind -drew painful pictures of the ruined Cecil, a wanderer or outcast, -perhaps in penury, misery, and despair, driven, it might be, to -suicide; and, remembering the real or fancied vision he had seen in -time past, had a nervous and childish fear of perhaps beholding -another. - -Already had the father been wronged; and now, how much more deeply -the son! Was a curse coming upon his race--a curse like that which -blighted the Campbells of Glenlyon, and more than one other family, -for some crime committed in ages past? It almost seemed so; and he -had no language wherewith to express his loathing of Hew, and the -cunning and cowardice of the latter. - -Tidings of Cecil or how to trace him, were the daily thought of all -at Eaglescraig, and the general wrote again and again, but vainly, to -Leslie Fotheringhame, to Dick Freeport, Acharn, and other members of -the corps on the subject; but none could afford the slightest clue to -the mystery that enveloped his disappearance. - -The presence of friends, if not avoided, was certainly not courted at -Eaglescraig now; even the general forgot his reminiscences of India -and the Cameronians in this new anxiety, and the days passed slowly, -gloomily, and monotonously on, till Mary bethought her of Annabelle -Erroll, who she knew had a sorrow of her own, and pressed her to -visit them again. - -The curiously and mysteriously worded advertisements inserted by John -Balderstone in the second column of the _Times_, concerning Cecil, -and seeking some knowledge of his whereabouts, never reached him by -the banks of the Morava, or beyond the slopes of the Balkan -mountains; and fears began to gather in the hearts of those who loved -him, that if not gone to the Antipodes, he must be dead! - -'I am breaking up, John,' he would say querulously to his old friend, -'and am about as much use now as a Scotch M.P. or a third wheel to a -field-piece!' - -Yet, as we are all creatures of habit, he adhered to his old ways -mechanically. As an Indian veteran, accustomed to be up at gun-fire -and when the cantonment ghurries clanged, he was always wont to be -abroad early; and there was one morning, which he never forgot, when -he was up and about earlier than usual. - -He had been through the stables with Pate Pastern, the groom, and -seen the carriage-horses, his own roadster, Mary's pad and her -ponies; he had been with old Dibble, the gardener, about potting the -flowers, though he scarcely knew a daffodil from a rhododendron; had -seen the shepherd off to look after the cattle, and now came the -postman with the letters and papers; but he tossed them all aside and -muttered: - -'What can interest me now?' - -But Mary always had the power of rousing and interesting him, and, -breakfast over, she began to read the morning paper aloud, as she -often did, for he loved to hear her silvery voice. She turned, as -was her wont with him, to the Indian news, though many a hearty laugh -he had at her haphazard pronunciation of Hindostanee names and words; -and, after giving him all the news from Simla, Calcutta, and so -forth, her eyes fell on those from the Danubian provinces and the -East; and she was in the act of reading, when her voice broke; as a -swelling came into her throat she stopped, and, while tightly -clutching her paper, fell back in her chair, with her face deadly -pale. - -'Mary, my darling, you are ill; what is the matter?' exclaimed Sir -Piers, starting from his easy-chair and ringing the bell furiously. - -'News of Cecil!' she replied, faintly. - -'News of Cecil--when--how?' - -'See, see! oh, heavens!' she exclaimed, smoothing out the paper and -then pushing back her hair from her temples. - -It was the special correspondent's detailed account of the battle by -the Morava, and the singular gallantry of 'the British volunteer, Mr. -Cecil Falconer,' in rescuing and remounting General Tchernaieff, -after a brigade of Cossacks had given way; of his promotion and -decoration with the Takova cross, and all that the reader already -knows. - -Tremulously the general read the notice again and again, with a glow -of pride and joy in his old face--joy in which Mary did not fully -share, for dread of the perils surrounding the absent one was her -immediate second thought; but all suspense--all uncertainty were -ended now. The absent, the wronged, and the lost one was discovered, -but oh how far away! - -'My boy's boy! my boy's boy!' muttered Sir Piers, wiping his -spectacles, which had become covered with moisture. 'Tunley, call -Mrs. Garth--the chief of my household staff--she must hear of this at -once. Quick, she is in the compound!' he added, referring to the -garden, as an Anglo-Indian never rids himself of his old -associations. And motherly old Mrs. Garth, who was looking just as -we saw her last, with her grey hair thick and soft, and with keen -bright eyes under a pair of shrewd Scotch eyebrows, heard with -genuine joy the sudden tidings of Cecil, for whom she had always had -the strongest regard. - -The day was passed in surmises and plans for the future, and Mary -hurried away to her own room, to find perfect seclusion at last--away -from all! She locked her door; threw off her dress as if it stifled -her; donned her robe de toilette; let down the masses of her hair for -coolness, threw them over her shoulders, and sat down with her -dimpled chin resting in the pinky palm of her left hand, to -think--think--think it all out. - -What should she do! Write! - -She threw open her desk and blotting-pad; but her brain was too -excited--her poor heart beat too fast and too painfully to permit her -to steady her thoughts, and she paced to and fro, so wearily. - -'Thank heaven, dear Annabelle is coming!' she exclaimed more than -once. - -This battle by the Morava had been fought, by the date given, more -than a month ago. A whole month! What might not have happened since -then? In what fresh perils might not Cecil have been plunged? And -much had happened, such as the gentle mind of Mary could not have -conceived, or deemed possible, in this age of the world. - -Now the news of the Servian war--a war to her hitherto unknown or -devoid of interest--became suddenly invested with a new and terrible -importance. - -The regiment, of course, heard betimes of Cecil's exploit and the -honours awarded him; and, as may readily be supposed, the mess had -quite an ovation in consequence. - -For certain cogent reasons of his own, Hew Montgomerie heard the -tidings with unmixed satisfaction. - -'In Servia--fighting in Servia, of all places in the world!' he -muttered; 'if he only gets knocked on the head, I may find my old -place at Eaglescraig again! But he may escape and come safely home. -Why should I not go to Servia, and mar his future in some fashion?' -he added, as a dark and cruel expression stole into his shifty eyes; -'but how to get there--and where the devil is Servia?' - -Hew's ideas on geography were decidedly vague, and even Bradshaw -failed to show how he could get there; but, intent on his diabolical -thoughts nevertheless, he continued to think and to mutter: - -'Fighting, is he! A bullet may rid me of him--rid me all the sooner -that, no doubt, he sets little store upon his life now. Anyway, I -should like it soon to be settled whether I am to have Eaglescraig -after all!' - -And he began to consider intently how he could reach Servia before -Cecil could hear of his changed fortune; in what capacity he could -act when there; what was the language spoken; where was the money to -come from with which he was to travel? And for some days he resolved -himself into a species of committee of ways and means, combined with -many dark, cruel and malignant thoughts. - - - - -CHAPTER II. - -THE COINCIDENCE. - -On her way to Eaglescraig, Annabelle Erroll proceeded by way of -Glasgow, and had barely taken her seat in the compartment of a -first-class railway carriage, when a gentleman entered, and took his -place at an opposite corner. Then the train glided out of the -station; smoky Tradeston on the right, and the dense masses of the -ancient Gorbals on the left, were quickly far behind, and the view on -either side became more open, as it sped on its way; and ere long -Annabelle forgot all about her companion, in watching the estuary of -the Clyde, the rock of Dumbarton, the mighty blue mass of Ben Lomond, -and the glorious panorama of the hills of Argyle. - -Her companion had leisurely opened a courier bag, and taken therefrom -various serials, without offering one to her, as she sat with averted -face, intent on the scenery. He seemed one of those composed -travellers who can hear unmoved the scream and whistle of any number -of engines; the startling shout of 'Change here!' as the train pulled -up at some confusing junction, from where travellers branched off in -all directions--some the right, but many the wrong; and where -leisurely and indolent porters spent the stirring yet monotonous day -in cramming passengers and portmanteaus into carriages, to get rid of -them as fast as possible for the next batch of portmanteaus and -passengers, without caring whither they went or what became of them. - -He could see, by furtive glances over the top of his paper, that his -companion was a tall and elegant girl, faultlessly attired in a rich -sealskin, with gold ornaments; with feet and hands which--when the -latter left her tiny muff--were well-shaped and small. There was a -haughty grace in the carriage of her handsome head; she wore a smart -hat, and a thick black veil tied over her face effectually concealed -her features. He took in all this at a glance as he settled himself -to his newspaper, while she scarcely dared to breathe, as in him she -had now recognised Leslie Fotheringhame! - -Where was he going--what was he doing here, in 'mufti' too? The -calm, high-bred face, to which the dark eyebrows and thick, black, -heavy moustache imparted so much character--the face that was ever -dwelling in her memory was before her again. In repose, she thought -it seemed older than it should have been, or was wont to be; and when -eventually he did venture to address her, when he smiled, it grew -young and bright again, like the face she remembered in the pleasant -time beside the Tay, and the last season at Edinburgh. - -She saw that he had still at his watch-chain a tiny gold locket, -which she remembered well; for it had been her gift to him, and -contained a microscopic likeness of herself on one side, and a lock -of her golden hair on the other--or _had_ done so, when she saw it -last. - -Did it contain them now, or had they given place to memorials of--of -that other woman--a hateful and humiliating thought! - -How she longed for an excuse or opportunity to get into another -carriage, or for other passengers to come in, ere he recognised her; -but the train was an express one, and no addition could be made to -their number for some time to come. - -Secure, as yet, behind the mask of her veil, she watched him, while -her heart beat with lightning-speed, and swelled with unavailing -regret. Intent, apparently, on his paper, he had not recognised her. -He had, of course, ceased to care for her, she thought, when he had -learned to love that other one; and so now, her coming, and her -going, her joy and her sorrow, were nothing to him--were less than -the snow of last winter! - -Yet she was woman enough to love him now, when breathing the same -atmosphere with him--seated within a yard of him--to love him, in -these the days of his biting indifference, even as she had done in -those when a smile of hers could bring him so winningly to her side. - -'What a fool I am!' she thought; 'oh, I hate myself! Would that I -were a man--they can so easily forget!' - -At that moment one of her bracelets became unclasped and fell at his -feet. - -He picked it up, and not sorry, perhaps, for an excuse to address -her, said simply: 'Permit me?' and clasped it round her white and -shapely wrist. - -'Thanks,' she replied as briefly; but her voice, though low, -instantly stirred a chord in his heart; the memory of her figure -rushed upon him; he gazed keenly at the fair face half hidden by its -veil of lace. - -'Annabelle--Miss Erroll!' said he, in a strange voice, while lifting -his hat, and half offering a hand: a motion which she ignored, and -felt herself grow pallid in being discovered at last--pallid with -something of anger too, for, with all her natural sweetness, -Annabelle had a heart of pride. - -'We are old friends,' said he, with some confusion or emotion of -manner; 'at least we can be that?' - -'Not even that, I fear,' said she, with affected firmness; and then -added a little irrelevantly: 'would that I had never come here; an -express train, too--how provoking!' - -'Is my company so hateful--or are we to be enemies now?' - -'As you please,' she replied, with growing irritation, for, her -secret sentiments apart, the sudden situation exasperated her, after -all that had occurred. 'To meet you here was, at least, the last -thing I could have expected.' - -'Or wished?' - -'I have no reason for not replying in the affirmative--yes.' - -He sighed, and for a moment looked out of the window at the -past-flying landscape, across which the white cloud of the engine -smoke was whirling. After a pause, he asked in a tone of assumed -indifference: - -'Are you going far by this train?' - -'Far or near cannot possibly interest you, Captain Fotheringhame; but -I may mention that I am going to Eaglescraig in Cunninghame.' - -'Eaglescraig!' he exclaimed, forgetting his pretended calmness of -manner. - -'And you?' she inquired, for she had a tender interest in him, in -spite of herself. - -'I am going there too,' he replied, with the slightest twinkle of -mischief in his handsome eyes. - -'By invitation?' asked Annabelle, aghast, conceiving that her friend -Mary had formed some scheme concerning them. - -'No; I have volunteered a visit to the general, out of my friendship -for Cecil Falconer--or Montgomerie, we must call him now. I have -seen several notices concerning him in the public prints; I know all -about his changed fortunes, and I want to be of service, if I can, to -him and the old general. Thus I took this train, by a singular -coincidence.' - -'One I would have avoided, could I have known, foreseen, what was -thereby involved.' - -'Do not say so, I implore you,' said he. - -She made no response to this; but sat with her face resolutely turned -to the carriage window, while biting her cherry nether lip, and with -difficulty restraining tears of vexation behind her veil; while -Fotheringhame, as he looked at her, thought just then that no woman -could compare with her--not even Mary Montgomerie--in his eyes; and -he longed to see her face unveiled, but dared not, in her present -mood, venture to hint of such a wish. - -As his presence seemed to give her such extreme annoyance, he felt -half inclined to relinquish his plan of visiting Sir Piers; but then -he had written to the latter, announcing his intention of coming, and -had obtained two or three days' leave for that special purpose. - -The recent tidings of Cecil in the public prints--the brilliant -exploit he had performed in the war in Servia--'in Servia, of all -places in the world,' as Fotheringhame said--fortunately gave this -luckless pair of travellers a kind of neutral ground on which to -meet--a neutral subject on which to converse, apart from themselves; -but in no instance can a man and a woman who have ever been _more_ to -each other than friends meet, after parting under any circumstances, -without having emotion of a deeper kind--be it love, or be it -hate--than ordinary individuals. Thus, ever and anon the -conversation of these two manifested a decided tendency to take a -personal and explanatory turn; yet they sat rigidly apart, each in -their own corner of the carriage. - -'Poor Cecil!' said Fotheringhame; 'he may have tired of treading -life's dull road ere the report of his good fortune reaches him--the -heir of an old baronetcy and an estate.' - -'With the affection of a dear girl like Mary Montgomerie too!' - -'True,' added Fotheringhame, with much sadness of tone; 'she does not -forget, as some so readily can, what Motherwell calls "the love of -life's young day." - -Thinking that, if not acting, this remark conveyed a taunt, Annabelle -said: - -'You seem somewhat changed in way and manner since we saw each other -last.' - -'If so, I have had good reason therefor.' - -'You were once gay enough, and happy too.' - -'Happy when you made me so; but Heaven knows, Annabelle,' he -exclaimed, with sudden emotion, 'that gaiety and pleasure have long -been strangers to me.' - -'So duplicity brings about its own punishment,' she replied, -pointedly and pitilessly. - -'Duplicity?' said he, looking up with a surprise that seemed at least -genuine; 'I do not understand--you slighted my visits--returned my -letters----' - -'Good reason had I to do so. I had hoped we might avoid this -subject----' - -'Reason?' he queried, as her voice broke. - -'Remember your mysterious friend,' said Annabelle, bitterly; 'she was -_not_ Blanche Gordon; so who was she--what was she? But I despise -myself for asking!' - -'She was then what she is no longer now--an unhappy creature,' was -the enigmatical reply, from which Annabelle, whose pride revolted -from making further inquiries, drew all kinds of singular deductions. - -And now, at this crisis in their conversation, the train stopped, and -as an influx took place of those fresh passengers so longed for by -Annabelle a short time before, it could not be resumed in any form, -and the rest of the journey was performed by them in silence, or -nearly so. - - - - -CHAPTER III. - -EAGLESCRAIG ONCE MORE. - -Mary, in the general's snug and well-appointed old family carriage, -with a stately hammer-cloth and heraldically bedecked panels, awaited -Annabelle at the railway station; and though expecting Leslie -Fotheringhame at the same time, and quite prepared to welcome him -warmly as Cecil's friend and whilom brother officer, and though not -surprised to see him arrive, she was certainly surprised to find that -he and Annabelle had come _together_, and clapped her little ungloved -hands merrily, as she received them, in a childlike way that almost -provoked the latter, who was a proud and rather reserved girl. - -She coloured deeply and with positive vexation, even under the eye of -her dearest friend, for thus arriving at the same time, by the same -train, and in the same carriage, with Leslie Fotheringhame; and this -emotion made her more shy, more resentful to him apparently, and more -resolved to keep as much as possible aloof from him. - -And he, piqued by this, of which he was speedily conscious, conceived -a vague and direful jealousy of some person as yet unknown, and it -coloured his manner accordingly. - -For the first time, on this occasion, he saw fully the soft fair face -of Annabelle, as she raised her veil, and her velvet-like lips met -those of Mary. Would they ever touch his again? - -The weather was duly discussed, and the advent of Snarley gave them -something to talk of, as that much-petted cur was nestling cosily -under the skin of a man-eater that would have gobbled him up at a -mouthful; and he now welcomed both with much yelping and effusiveness. - -Mary felt the situation of her friends to be an awkward one, and -exerted herself to make both feel at ease, as they drove under the -evening sunshine to Eaglescraig, where both were welcomed by Sir -Piers in the grand old dining-hall, the oak panels of which were -nearly hidden by ancestral portraits, and from the tall windows of -which there was a noble view of mountain and coppice, of rocky cliffs -and the far-stretching Firth of the dark blue Clyde; and at the elbow -of the host stood old Tunley, with a silver salver of decanters and -glasses. - -'Too late for tiffin and too early for dinner, Fotheringhame,' said -the general; 'just a nip to keep the cold out, and then the -dressing-bell will ring, and Tunley will see that you are attended -to.' - -Tunley, like most of the old servants, many of whom had been born on -the estate, had but one creed--the welfare of the family of -Eaglescraig. Their sorrow had been sincere when 'Master Piers come -to evil,' with his father; and it had been renewed now by the strange -story of Cecil, which had, of course, taken a powerful hold of their -fancies; thus he and they all viewed the advent of Fotheringhame with -the deepest interest, believing that he was in some mysterious way to -restore the wanderer to his home, and was, indeed, but the forerunner -of that event. - -One word more about Tunley. The poor man felt ashamed of one feature -in his past blameless life, and daily intercourse with the general -and Mrs. Garth made him feel it keenly; for this most respectable of -British butlers had never served, even for an hour, in the -Cameronians, and this he deemed somewhat of a blot upon his scutcheon. - -'Mrs. Captain Garth, of course, you remember,' said the general to -Fotheringhame (who was imbibing a liqueur glass of mountain-dew), -indicating the old lady, who was seated in an easy-chair, holding a -hand-screen to shield her face from the glow of the fire; 'widow of -my old friend Garth of Ours--and now, I think, we all know each -other.' - -Sir Piers had some vague idea that there had been a flirtation--a -lovers' quarrel, or some such folly--between Leslie Fotheringhame and -Annabelle Errol; but that was nothing to the old man--they would -square it, no doubt, if they were so disposed. And he thought only -of making welcome his guest--a Cameronian too!--friend of his -grandson, who had been so horribly used; and as for Annabelle, Mary -would look after her. - -Dinner duly came, and passed with the usual commonplace conversation; -the presence of the servants precluding all from talking freely, and -conversing on the matter nearest their hearts--the volunteer in -Servia. But Fotheringhame, from his place by Mary's side, had but -one thought--how surpassing fair looked Annabelle! Her dress was a -plain and simple muslin one; a blue flower of some kind was amid the -masses of her golden hair, and the brother of it nestled amid the -soft lace in the swell of her bosom. - -After the ladies had returned to the drawing-room, the object which -had brought him to Eaglescraig seemed half forgotten for a time, and -his thoughts had followed her; but now the hospitable general was -pushing the decanters to and fro; Tunley had withdrawn; and anon -Fotheringhame roused himself, for he was full of joyous enthusiasm at -distinction won by his friend in a foreign service, though he -cordially wished that he had never been driven to seek it there--a -service in which he had been driven by desperation to seek a new -home; and Fotheringhame quite won the heart of the general, who -now--in all that Cecil had done and achieved--was assured that he saw -but the reflection and reproduction of his own character, vaguely -known as 'a chip of the old block,' and that it was from him that -Cecil inherited all this fire and spirit. He became quite jovial, -and ere the evening was over began to sing, in a very quavering -treble, snatches of 'the old Subadahr.' - -'At the mess, we knew not what to think of his disappearance,' said -Fotheringhame, playing with his walnuts; 'some hinted of California -and the Rocky Mountains, others of Ballarat, the Diamond Fields of -Natal, the Cape war and the Zulus, and everywhere else that the -desperate and the broken----' - -'The desperate and the broken!' sighed the general, setting down an -untasted glass. - -'Yes, Sir Piers--go to mend their fortunes, to seek excitement, -oblivion, and too often to end their lives; but certainly no man -among us ever thought of Servia!' - -'It was most kind of you to volunteer this visit, Fotheringhame, to -assist me with your advice and knowledge of a European world that is -somewhat new to me now,' said Sir Piers, grasping his hand. - -'Not at all, Sir Piers; I would do anything to serve Cecil. I -thought two heads might be better than one; I am younger and more -active than you-- - -'But, egad, I have seen the day!' - -'And so, I thought, we must talk the matter over at leisure, yet -without delay.' - -'All right--the decanters stand with you. And now, Fotheringhame, -you are aware of how he was a victim of a vile scheme--how his wine -was drugged by a scoundrel whose attested confession I possess?' - -Aware of how deep had once been the general's interest in Mr. Hew -Caddish Montgomerie, Fotheringhame merely bowed an assent; and, after -a few minutes' silence, inquired where he was now? - -'None know, and none care,' replied the general, hotly; 'he has -disappeared altogether--let us hope for ever. But if life lasts me, -by the Heaven that hears me, I shall set the honour of my boy right -and clear before the regiment, the Horse Guards, and the world, or -lay my commission at the foot of the throne!' - -'In an affair of jealousy----' - -'Jealousy!' exclaimed the general, with a fierce grimace; 'we settled -these, and other affairs, differently in my time, before the service -went to the dogs. Egad! I knew a fellow, when I was a sub at -Vellore, who was shot for declining to dine at a certain mess-table. -Did you ever hear the story?' - -'No, general!' - -'Well, you see, it happened in this way,' began Sir Piers, who, -having obtained an audience, fell back at once into his old Indian -train of thought. 'We were cantonned at Nussirabad, in the wild -black province of Ajmir, with the 76th Bengal Native Infantry, when -there came from England, to join that corps, a Captain Evelyn, a -quiet and gentlemanly young fellow, whom all liked, save some of the -76th, who, sooth to say, were nearly all fiery rackety Irishmen, and -by no means good examples of the Emerald Isle; for cards, -brandy-pawnee, and incessant uproar were the order of the day, and of -the night too, in every bungalow in their lines, generally finishing -at a very late hour by breaking each other's heads with the -billiard-cues, and shying the balls out of the windows; while they -were born-devils at pig-sticking, horse-racing, and not a pretty ayah -was safe within ten coss of them. Such were the officers of the -_Moriartie-ka-Pultan_, for the corps had been raised by an Irishman, -and bore his name. - -'Evelyn declined to join their mess, not on that account, but because -he wished to live economically, being engaged to a young lady who was -coming up country, chaperoned by Mrs. Erroll, the mother of Mary's -friend, then a young and lovely matron--a mere girl in fact, and -travelling _dawk_, as we all did in those days; and with the utmost -politeness he explained all this to the president of the mess -committee. That personage, a certain Captain Darby O'Dowd, swore -that this was a distinct affront to the whole corps, and that Evelyn -must be paraded about gunfire. The mess consisted of sixteen, and as -he could not fight them all, they leisurely cast lots, and the task -fell to O'Dowd, who challenged Evelyn, with the intimation that if -he--the valiant Darby--fell, the next in seniority would take his -place. - -'Evelyn was too high-spirited to decline this outrageous challenge, -and they met at gunfire, in the open plain, while the sun was as yet -below the hills of Ajmir. I remember it all as if it were yesterday, -for I had the mainguard. - -'Evelyn, thinking, no doubt, of the girl who was far away, and whom -he might never see again, standing with his second, worthy John Garth -of Ours, pale and sad, yet resolute in aspect, on one hand; on the -other, O'Dowd, with his second, a Captain O'Spudd, and all the mess -of the 76th, anxious to have their turn in the shooting, grouped -close by, and pale and bloated enough they looked in the cold, half -light of the unrisen sun as it stole across the plain, and all shaky -enough with their over-night potations. - -'"Having no personal injury to redress, gentlemen, I decline to -fire," exclaimed Evelyn, in a loud, firm voice. - -'"Plaze yourself, me boy," replied the relentless O'Dowd as he fired; -and, shot through the heart, poor Evelyn fell dead on his face! - -'Even in those days there was a devil of a row about this remarkable -duel, and it was a close shave with O'Dowd escaping being hung for -it; but a verdict of "Not guilty" was returned, and he was killed -soon after in action by a grape-shot; and O'Spudd died of a sunstroke -in the jungle, and was buried there in his blanket.' - -The general followed up this by many other stories, all more or less -bloodthirsty, till his guest became somewhat silent--bored by them, -no doubt; and then he said: - -'Fotheringhame, the sherry stands with you--just "a white washer," -and then we shall join the ladies.' - - - - -CHAPTER IV. - -THE DIVIDED PAIR. - -Mrs. Garth was dozing dreamily before the fire, and the two girls -were at the piano, when the general and Fotheringhame entered the -drawing-room. - -They were idling over the instrument, before which Annabelle was -seated, and over the keys of which Mary was occasionally running her -fingers, as if apparently to conceal a little confidential -conversation that was in progress between them. - -'You'll have a turn with the guns to-morrow, Fotheringhame,' said the -general, 'but you must excuse my absence; my day is past for that -sort of thing. The rocketers I once could bring down, pass over my -head contemptuously now; and bullfinches seem much bigger in the -hunting-field than they used to be, so I funk them entirely, and seek -a quiet gate, as I don't like to come a spread eagle into the field; -and, by Jove! the doctor has already hinted about a respirator. -D--n! fancy a fellow at the head of a brigade with a respirator! I -was nearly drowned the other day, and would have been but for Mary, -when landing a twenty-pound pike from Eaglescraig Loch; so it is time -I gave over these little vanities, and left them to my juniors and -successors; though, Heaven knows, that if I was anxious about my -estate in this world just when it is time to be thinking of the -other, it was not for myself, but for those who are to come after -me,' added the general in a softened tone, for now much of the -peppery nature of the old stock-comedy guardian had left him. 'Fond -of music, Fotheringhame?' he asked, after a pause. - -'Very.' - -'Ah; dare say we shall find you something in that way. Mary is no -bad performer.' - -'Pray excuse me--to-night,' urged Mary. - -'Then I won't excuse Annabelle,' said the general, patting the -shoulder of the latter, while Fotheringhame drew near; 'do favour us -with the little song I have so often heard you sing with such extreme -sweetness and pathos.' - -'Which, Sir Piers?' - -'What is it? oh yes--"Love me always, love me ever," or something of -that kind. There must be some tender association connected with it, -I am sure,' continued Sir Piers, in utter ignorance of how his -remarks cut two ways, like a double-edged sword. - -'I have not the music--and--and I have quite forgotten the words,' -replied Annabelle, growing painfully pale, and wishing that the floor -would open and swallow her up, conscious that Leslie Fotheringhame -was standing at her back. The latter saw the ill-concealed emotion -that pervaded her whole frame, and he felt keenly for her. - -'Is this girl to be, for good or for evil, my destiny after all?' he -thought, as he regarded with his old admiration the beauty of her -refined face and her brilliant complexion--that dazzling and -wonderful fairness which almost invariably accompanies the possession -of golden and auburn hair. - -Annabelle did not leave the piano; it afforded her a pretext for -keeping her face turned from those around her, and, impelled by some -new emotion, she sang in succession some of her gayest and most -effective songs, while Fotheringhame hovered near, leaving to Mary -the task of turning the music, and steadily and keenly he regarded -the singer. Was this gaiety real, or was she acting a part? he -thought; and seeing that he came nearer, Mary withdrew. - -'You regard me with surprise,' said Annabelle, finding his eyes fixed -on her, and feeling a desperate necessity for saying something. -Indeed, they had scarcely spoken since leaving the railway carriage. - -'Certainly, I am surprised,' said he; 'I did not expect to be -standing by your side thus, and hearing your voice again.' - -Full fell the light of the chandelier on the lovely upturned eyes -that did not soften in the least, as he hoped they would do, at his -slight allusion to the past. - -'Captain Fotheringhame,' said Annabelle, quite calmly, and in an -ordinary tone, 'you look at me as though I were somehow changed.' - -'Oh, you are not in the least changed, he replied, in a low voice, -and with a bitter smile; 'you are volatile and--cruel as ever.' - -'Cruel!' she repeated, under cover of a musical crash, while the -colour rushed to her cheeks and delicate neck; but she disdained to -say more, and thus, to one or two half-broken utterances of his, -finding that she made no response, Fotheringhame drew back and -rejoined the general. - -How long was all this to go on? was Annabelle's bitter thought. In -the old time, by the silver birches on the Tay-side, they had met, -loved, quarrelled, and parted, she thought, for ever; but to meet and -quarrel again with just cause on one side, with the prayer in her -heart that they might never look in each other's faces again, and -here they were now, by an unexpected coincidence, a strange freak of -destiny, under the same roof, and in the same room, compelled to meet -at least as mutual friends! - -Thus, when they parted for the night, his voice was as calm and his -smile and bow as coldly polite as her own. Then he and the general -withdrew to the smoking-room, to talk over Cecil's affairs, and -scheme out some plan for his future, and the girls gladly sought -their rooms, which adjoined each other, and plunged at once into -gossip and hair-dressing. - -For weeks and weeks past Mary's life had been one of dull routine; -she had fed her pet birds, her pigeons, watched her flowers, and -watered her ferns, as usual; it was such a relief to do, or be doing, -anything: but now that Annabelle Erroll had come, she felt almost -happy in her companionship--for both had enough to talk about. - -'Have you met as acquaintances merely?' asked Mary, with eagerness. - -'Yes; but acquaintances of a peculiar kind, certainly. How could it -be otherwise, after all that has passed between us? I must -studiously ignore the past,' continued Annabelle; 'nor shall his -strange and sharp allusion to it move me, save in the way of -annoyance and surprise.' - -To her it seemed very strange and unaccountable that Leslie -Fotheringhame should adopt an indignant tone with her, as if _he_ -were the wronged party, and that she had nothing to complain of in -reference to his conduct with the unknown lady. - -'Why did he so studiously, so cruelly deceive me?' she exclaimed, on -the verge of tears; 'but that I inherit the spirit of my father, the -old colonel, he would have broken my heart--I loved him so!' - -'Poor Annabelle!' said Mary, caressing her; 'twice engaged, and twice -separated--you are a curious pair. Let us hope that the third time -may prove successful and irrevocable!' - -'Never!' exclaimed Annabelle. 'Did he not openly tell me that -she--that woman--is happy now? What did he mean by that?--for there -was something of mournful exultation in his tone!' - -'It is all very strange,' said Mary, in perplexity; 'can there have -been some simple, yet perhaps inexplicable, mistake at the bottom of -this unhappy business?' - -'No, Mary--I tell you no!' replied Annabelle, with angry energy; 'the -woman in the matter was a fact palpable enough. And what can the -unexplained mystery of his interest in her be? and is it not to him -degradation, and to me insult?' - -'Unexplained; it might not have been.' - -'How?' - -'You forget the rejected correspondence--the last unopened letter.' - -'Anyway,' replied Annabelle, with a forced laugh, 'unlike the Grande -Duchesse, I shall no longer dote upon the military. I'll look out -for an easy-going parson, or plain country gentleman, and, as Hawley -Smart says, "more weddings take place from pique than the world -wotteth of," and Hawley is right.' Then, dropping this tone, she -twined her white arms round her friend, and, gazing into her soft -face, said, 'Dear Mary, how poorly you are looking!' - -'Well, have I not had much cause for anxiety, and tears too, think -you?' - -'No man, I believe now, is worth the grief that robs a woman of her -peace and rest.' - -'Oh, Annabelle, the thought of Leslie Fotheringhame embitters you; -but I sorrow for Cecil--and there are men and men, remember. How -strange it seems that now I must think and speak of him not as -Falconer (his mother's name), but as Cecil Montgomerie!' she added, -with a soft smile, gazing on vacancy. - -'I thought,' said Annabelle, after a pause, 'that I should have died -when dear old Sir Piers so awkwardly asked me to sing that stupid -song to-night--died of shame and mortification! Surely no woman has -ever been more thoroughly humbled than I! How unfortunate all this -is!' she added, almost weeping with vexation; 'mamma knew of our -engagement, and that he is my cousin. She knows how shamefully he -treated me after the night of that most unlucky ball; and all about -that--that person--the woman with the golden-hazel eyes; and how -shall I be able to convince her, proud, resentful, and -justly-suspicious as she is, that our meeting here is a miserable -coincidence--a circumstance beyond my control?' - -'It looks like Fate, my dear Belle.' - -'Fate? How can you romance so after all that has happened?' - -'What happened may be a mistake--a coincidence, too--explainable -perhaps, though I have not much hope of that. If dear Cecil were but -home, he might clear it all up for us. Home! when will that be? -Soon, I hope--oh, so soon!' she added, as she kissed her friend and -sought her pillow. - -Annabelle lay far into the night awake, revolving endless schemes and -conversations in her busy little head. She naturally longed to be -gone from Eaglescraig, and nothing but a sure knowledge that -Fotheringhame's leave was for a very brief period, pacified her at -all. That they should be in the same house, and meeting perpetually -at the same table, was intensely awkward under the circumstances of -their changed position. - -Annabelle felt this keenly, and thus she sedulously avoided Leslie -Fotheringhame, who felt conscious that she did so, and misconstrued -it either into an aversion for himself, or a regard for some other -man--a regard inspired, perhaps, by pique, or wounded self-esteem. - - - - -CHAPTER V. - -A STRANGE ACCUSATION. - -Meanwhile how fared it with Cecil, and what was now his fate? - -He had permitted the cold, damp earth to be heaped upon him, only -moving sufficiently--unseen in the gloom of the night and of the hole -wherein he lay--to keep his body, though partially buried, from being -so entirely; fortunately, the would-be assassins were satisfied that -they had effectually concealed him from the troops, who were -certainly in motion close by, and then retired for a time, intending, -as they stated, to return shortly, and make sure of their prey. - -The moment they were gone, though scarcely daring to breathe, and -oblivious of many a sore and bruise, of which he became conscious -hours after, Cecil rose, clambered out of the hollow, shook his -clothes as free as possible of the soil that had covered him, secured -his pistols in his belt anew, and on looking to his sword, thanked -heaven that, in his fall, the steel scabbard had saved the blade from -injury. - -Drawing a long breath, a sigh of relief, he prepared for immediate -flight, though giddy, bruised, and weak. Lights were flitting to and -fro in the farmhouse close by, and he could actually hear the voices -of Guebhard and his Montenegrins, so not a moment was to be lost in -retiring. Even the farmer and his people were to be sedulously -avoided, and though Cecil did think of his horse, it was chiefly with -reference to the impossibility of recovering it. - -A sound made him shrink behind a bush, and then he saw one of his -late assailants creeping towards the hole, softly, slowly, -stealthily, on his hands and knees, with a yataghan in his teeth, and -his eyes turned more than once towards the house from which he had -stolen on deadly intent, to anticipate his leader and companions, by -finishing off their victim if any life remained in him, and obtaining -the valuable diamond ring of Palenka, the despatches and other -plunder. - -A moment he paused in his progress, irresolutely, for the voice of a -cuckoo, roused by the recent noise, was now heard in a tree close by; -and the Black Mountaineer, affrighted by an idea of the _vila_, which -often assumes, as the Servians also believe, the form of that bird, -let the yataghan fall from his mouth. - -Ere he could pick it up, Cecil, whose blood was now at fever-heat, -passed his sword twice furiously through the body of the wretch, with -his foot spurned it head-long into the hole (where, to the -bewilderment of Guebhard and his ruffians, it was found some time -after), and then, animated by a species of despairing energy, he -hurried, breathless and panting, stumbling heavily at every step, -into the thick wood that lay near, intent only on immediate escape -and concealment for a time--at least till day broke, and he could -look about him; nor did he pause in his flight until he felt assured -that some miles lay between him and his enemies. - -A great weariness, the result of long and over exertion of mind and -body, came over him; and on finding a dry and sheltered place, under -the branches of a great laurel bush or tree, he fell fast asleep, -fearless of the wild hogs, of which vast numbers feed in the woods. - -When he awoke, stiff and benumbed, a silvery mist was rising from the -dark green foliage of the forest, and above the mist was the blue sky -and the clear bright morning sunshine, as he began to search for a -path, which he hoped might lead him to a highway, though such he -knew, in Servia, were only to be found in the neighbourhood of towns. - -The sound of a cavalry trumpet at no great distance caught his ear. -It gave him a species of electric shock, and he remembered, that to -the fears expressed by Guebhard of troops being in the vicinity, he -no doubt owed his life. He pressed eagerly, anxiously forward in the -direction whence the sound had come, the rabbits scuttling briskly -out of his way, as he hurried along a narrow track; and at length he -was rewarded by reaching a regular beaten road, on which was a long -string of horses and mules laden with provisions, forage, and stores, -proceeding under an escort of Russian Lancers from Belgrade to the -front--direct to Tchernaieff's headquarters, as the officer in -command--a _capitan_--informed him. - -The latter, a handsome man, kid-gloved and glazed booted, wore a very -dashing uniform; a green tunic, piped with scarlet, faced with black -velvet and laced with gold, and on his breast glittered the medals he -had won in the expeditions to Khiva and elsewhere, with the orders of -St. Andrew and St. Vladimir. - -Cecil made his position, his wants, and his recent troubles known in -French, which the Ruski spoke fluently. The latter summoned a -sergeant, who procured a horse and some food--_i.e._, biscuits and -brandy--for Cecil; and now his heart grew lighter as he rode on and -felt himself in perfect safety, but not the less intent on having -public or private vengeance upon Captain Mattei Guebhard. - -He saw once more the Morava, and after a few hours' riding, was -thankful when the escort passed the outposts of the Russo-Servian -army at Deligrad, and he could proceed without delay to the quarters -of General Tchernaieff. - -Inspired more than he had ever been since he came to Servia by the -sights and sounds around him--the tents, the huts, the batteries of -artillery with their limbers all drawn up wheel to wheel; the -cavalry, their horses picketed in close ranks or at exercise upon the -plateau; the strains of a magnificent Russian band playing the 'Blue -Danube,' and then the 'Manolo'--he ceased to think or question -himself, like Mr. Mallock, 'Is life worth living?' He was too young -yet to find that there was nothing in it. Since that bright summer -day when Warren Hastings, 'then just seven years of age,' as we are -told, 'lay on the bank of a rivulet, which flows through the old -domain of his house to join the Isis,' and registered a vow that he -would, one day, be lord of Daylesford, how many vows of anticipated -honours, wealth and greatness have been registered, that may never -have been fulfilled! - -But some such emotion--some such hope of a brilliant future, swelled -up in the heart of Cecil, as he dismounted from his horse at the door -of an edifice, two sentinels before which, and the Russian flag -flying thereon, indicating it to be the headquarters of General -Tchernaieff. - -Officers and orderlies belonging to every arm of the service, horse, -foot, artillery, engineers, hospitals and ambulances, were passing in -and out, when Cecil sent in his name to the general, who had just -come from vespers in the little iron church, which had been sent to -him by the ladies of Moscow, and in which he had been depositing two -or three standards recently taken from the Turks, prior to their -transmission to the Emperor at St. Petersburg. - -Cecil's jaded aspect, his tattered uniform, soiled, sodden, and of no -particular colour now, for the brown of the tunic and the scarlet of -the facings and braid were all of one dingy hue, attracted some -attention among the gorgeous, and almost fantastic, costumes of the -Russian staff and cavalry officers in the ante-room, through which he -was quickly ushered into the presence of Tchernaieff. - -The latter, who wore a short, brown shell-jacket, with a rolling -collar laced with gold, and crimson overalls, was smoking a huge pipe -and seated at a table littered with papers and printed journals, from -which he started up as Cecil entered, and, drawing himself up to the -full height of his short pudgy figure, while all his short, stubbly -hair seemed to bristle, and his wiry moustaches to stick out like -those of a cat, he eyed him with considerable sternness, indignation, -and surprise, mingled in a face that was never at any time a very -handsome one. - -Count Palenka, who was writing at the table, laid down his pen and -eyed Cecil with cold hauteur, even hostility, and did not accord him -the vestige of a recognition. - -'What on earth can be in the wind now?' thought the latter, as his -late bright hopes vanished into thin smoke. Mechanically he took the -despatches from his sabretache, and said respectfully: - -'I have the honour to deliver to your excellency these documents, -entrusted to me by his Majesty the King.' - -'His Majesty the King does not owe you many thanks for the haste you -have made!' replied Tchernaieff, as he somewhat rudely snatched the -papers from Cecil's hand, while his eyes literally glared at him. - -'I do not understand this bearing of yours, general,' said he, -haughtily. - -'You may understand, however, Herr Lieutenant, that you loitered for -many days idly at Palenka.' - -'A dislocated arm--dislocated when fording the Morava--detained me -there.' - -'A likely story, truly,' said Tchernaieff, with growing indignation; -'why ford a river that has bridges, and why the devil ford it at all, -before coming to the town of Tjuprija?' - -'I lost the direct road and fell into the river in the night. The -family of the Count----' - -'Knew not that they were harbouring a traitor,' said Palenka, grimly. - -'A traitor, Herr Count!' exclaimed Cecil. - -'I have said it; so don't repeat my words.' - -'There must be some strange misconception in all this,' replied -Cecil, more bewildered than indignant, perhaps; 'the way was -beset----' - -'By Captain Mattei Guebhard,' interrupted Tchernaieff. - -'You know it!' - -'From his own lips. He is now in camp, and very properly and duly -reported to me that he had done so; but that you escaped him, he -knows not how, after killing one of his men, and causing, by -misadventure, the death of another.' - -Cecil was more and more bewildered by the strange candour of Guebhard -in acknowledging the outrageous conduct of which he had been guilty; -but the injurious treatment now so unexpectedly accorded him, after -all he had undergone, filled him with just anger and indignation. - -'Who dares to accuse me of wrong, or even of error?' he demanded. - -'That you will discover in time.' - -'Of what am I accused?' he continued. - -'That also you will learn in time; and in time you may see the mines -of Siberia, if you escape death! Meanwhile you will withdraw, and -remain under close arrest. Count Palenka, take his sword.' - -'The officer of the nearest guard can do that. Your excellency must -hold me excused,' was the haughty and contemptuous reply of Palenka; -and a few minutes afterwards Cecil found himself disarmed and a -prisoner under close arrest, with special sentries guarding the door -of the house, in an apartment of which he was left to his own bitter -and confused thoughts. - -That he was the victim of some strange and malevolent report made by -Guebhard to the general and Count Palenka, he could not doubt; but of -what nature could that slander be? Palenka had called him a -'traitor.' He could only be so to King Milano Obrenovitch, and he -felt certain that no act of his own could draw such an epithet upon -him, so to Guebhard now did the whole tide of his fury turn. - - - - -CHAPTER VI. - -A FATAL PROOF FOUND. - -Food and wine were placed before him; he recoiled from the former, -but drank the latter like one who had been long athirst. - -After all he had undergone, and all he had done, to preserve and -deliver in safety these unlucky despatches, this, then, was the grim -and degrading welcome that awaited him in the camp of the allied -Servian and Russian armies? - -What did it all mean? Some dreadful mistake, or a false and -malicious accusation, which time must soon unravel. Meanwhile, how -difficult it was to be patient or calm under the circumstances; and -he asked himself again and again, would Fortune never be tired of -persecuting him? - -Would he ever forget, he had thought, that _mauvais quart d'heure_ in -the place that so nearly became his grave? and now he was in peril as -great again. - -'A traitor,' had been the epithet applied by Count Palenka towards -him. In what way could he ever be so? Was he to be made the -victim--the scapegoat of some dark political game, between the -Servian prince he served, and the general of the Russian army? 'You -may see Siberia yet, if you escape death,' had been the menace of the -latter, who actually owed his life at his--Cecil's--hands. He -recalled the words, and knowing all of which these men were capable, -and all they had the power to do, with all his natural courage, could -not but feel appalled. - -The room to which he had been consigned was on the upper floor of a -house in the little town of Deligrad. It had little other furniture -than a wooden divan, that ran round it, and whereon were spread the -bear and wolf skins on which he could seat himself, or repose at -night. - -Its windows were little more than narrow slits, and through them he -could see the camp, spreading over the low-lying eminences which -bound, on the east, the Valley of the Morava--the long streets of -tents and huts, and little _tentes-d'abri_, the smoke of the fires at -which the soldiers cooked their food; and the Servian tricolour -flying on a huge earthen redoubt, formed on the summit of the most -commanding height, and armed with heavy guns, pointed grimly towards -the point from which the Turks might be expected to approach. - -Amid these streets of tents, drums were beaten and bugles sounded all -day long; orderlies spurred their horses to and fro, and Servian -peasants drove waggons drawn by white bullocks, or led long lines of -laden ponies, and itinerant sutlers and vendors of grapes and apples, -sardines, tomatoes and tobacco, etc., went incessantly about, -together with itinerant fiddlers and bagpipers. - -Beyond all this, he could see the road winding away to Belgrade, near -two long, low, whitewashed edifices, the abodes of suffering and -death. On each a white flag with a red cross was displayed to -indicate that they were hospitals, on which no shot or shell must -fall, even if the infidels succeeded in storming the heights of -Djunis, which overhang the other side of the Morava. - -Daily Cecil watched all this from his windows, till his soul sickened -at it all and of inaction, after the fierce excitement of recent -events; but after a week had elapsed, the clash of arms, as the two -sentinels at the door accorded a salute to some visitors, followed by -the clatter of spurs and steel scabbards on the wooden staircase of -the house, preceded the entrance into Cecil's room of an officer in -the uniform of the Servian staff, the provost-marshal and a gentleman -in civilian costume, who announced himself as the deputy minister of -police from Belgrade, and who was attended by a subordinate in a kind -of uniform. - -'Police?' replied Cecil, in an inquiring tone; 'it is, then, some -civil--error that I am accused of?' - -'No error at all, Herr Lieutenant; but of a crime against the State,' -replied the civilian--a black-bearded man, with the ribbon of the -Takova cross at his lapelle--in a somewhat gruff manner. -'Information has been lodged with the authorities that you have, or -have borne about you, papers of a treasonable nature.' - -'Lodged, by whom?' - -'Captain Mattei Guebhard.' - -Cecil laughed, but angrily, nevertheless. - -'Herr Lieutenant,' said the provost-marshal, a grim-looking old -sabreur, 'you may find this a hanging, and not a laughing, matter!' - -'Thus,' continued the deputy minister of police, 'we have orders to -examine your person for secret papers, if, by the delay foolishly -accorded to you, they have not been destroyed.' - -'Papers--what papers?' - -'That, as yet, can only be known to yourself.' - -On this his attendant made a pace towards Cecil, who haughtily -motioned him by his hand to pause, ere he laid a hand upon him. - -'You delivered the despatches of General Tchernaieff to the King at -Belgrade?' resumed the police official. - -'To the King--yes.' - -'Don't repeat my words, please!' - -'Mein Herr?' - -'I say, don't repeat my words!' exclaimed the other, who manifested -rather a disposition to bully. 'You tarried unnecessarily at the -castle of Palenka?' - -'I met with an accident, of which the general is, I presume, fully -aware, though the count seems somewhat dissatisfied,' said Cecil, in -whom this questioning excited surprise and indignation, rather than -alarm. - -'There you met Captain Guebhard?' - -'To my sorrow, and no small disgust, I did.' - -'And though unable, as you averred, to proceed, you refused to give -him the documents; but conveyed them in a contrary direction from the -camp, with what purpose is best known to yourself; and but for the -circumstance of your meeting an escort of Servian troops, the general -would never have received them at all?' - -'This statement is false in its tenor,' replied Cecil, haughtily; -'and I am utterly in the dark as to your inferences.' - -'Ah--indeed! Permit me to examine your sabretache.' - -'It is empty.' - -'We shall see,' replied the official, as he unbuckled the -accoutrement so named, and which was suspended by three slings from -the waistbelt. 'What have we here?' he added, as he drew from an -inner pocket, which Cecil never knew it possessed, a small parchment -document, and uttered a genuine cry of astonishment; 'here is enough -to hang a battalion!' he added. 'Herr Lieutenant, here we find you -in open communication with the Pretender, Kara Georgevitch!' - -'Who the deuce is he?' asked Cecil, with equally genuine surprise. - -'Do not pretend ignorance, and thus add to the crime for which you -will be so severely punished, that I am actually sorry for you,' -replied the deputy minister of police, regarding Cecil with great -sternness nevertheless. 'Here is your commission as colonel--bearing -your own name--to raise a regiment of Montenegrin deserters, for the -service of Kara Georgevitch--the exile--the outlaw--the Pretender to -the Servian throne, to whom, no doubt, you intended to convey alike -the King's despatches and the general's plan of the campaign!' - -'Impossible--you are under some delusion,' said Cecil, with anger now. - -'I need scarcely ask you to look upon what you know already exists,' -replied the other, with some indignation, and then holding the -document before the eyes of Cecil, who saw plainly and undoubtedly -that it was all he stated it to be, and his name written there as -'Cecil Falconer,' and that, among other signatures, that of Kara -Georgevitch was appended to it. - -So completely was he bewildered by this strange circumstance, that he -permitted the document to be taken away before he had farther -examined it; and while a drawn sword was placed against his heart, -the pockets of his uniform, and even the lining thereof, were roughly -examined for other treasonable papers, after which his visitors -retired, and he was left--astounded--to his own reflections. - -He was the victim of a deep-laid scheme by Guebhard. He saw it all, -and in his suppressed passion could scarcely breathe--yes, he saw it -all now; but how to prove it? Failing to abstract or obtain by fair -means the despatches at Palenka, for the information of this Kara -Georgevitch, with whom the fact of having this--probably -blank--commission proved him to be in communication--he had beset the -way, and finding that Cecil baffled him, had now brought this false -accusation against him. - -He remembered the warning of Margarita, and that he had detected -Guebhard meddling with his sabretache. Could he doubt, now, that he -had intended to abstract the despatches on one hand, while concealing -in it this perilous and already prepared document on the other? - -It was not until a day or two more had elapsed that Cecil understood -his peril fully or what the involvement meant, and that there were -two claimants to the Servian throne--Milano Obrenovitch the -successful one, now reigning, and Kara Georgevitch, a pretender. It -was a position exactly the same as if some one in Scotland, in the -days of 'the Forty-Five,' had been found with a commission to raise a -regiment of Highlanders for 'King James VIII.;' and thus Cecil found -himself, as yet, in a predicament of no ordinary magnitude, in which -those for the prosecution would have it all their own way, and the -defence, conducted by himself, must seem weak indeed. - -Again and again, Pelham, Stanley, and one or two other kind-hearted -Englishmen, who, in search of a 'new sensation,' were taking a turn -of service against the Turks, endeavoured to visit him, and to take -some measures for his safety; but all were bluntly refused access to -the prison in which he lay, for so closely was the house guarded, -that it became a prison in reality now. - -He lost heart--his spirits began to sink under the rigid confinement -to which he was subject, and his doubt and anxiety as to the future -issue of the whole affair. He had about him a confused and dazed -feeling, such as he had not possessed since he had been in the castle -of Edinburgh, and the time of the fatal ball; and as the hours passed -by him in solitude, and the detested details of his room--the pattern -of the paper on its walls, the divan that bordered them, the skins -that lay thereon, the cracks in the ceiling and the bare planking of -the floor--seemed to become photographed on his brain, and the -senseless jingle of silly airs, the words of absurd rhymes, recurred -to him again and again with that provoking but persistent reiteration -so common to all--at least to many--when their minds are tortured by -doubt or calamity. - -Seated there in that prison-room, hearing the sounds of the adjacent -camp by day, and by night only the measured tread of the Russian -sentinels without, as they trod silently and monotonously to and fro -on their posts, Cecil--looking back through the receding vista of the -past, and the latter and most bitter portion of his career in which -Mary Montgomerie bore a part, was often on the point of asking -himself whether it was not a dream rather than a reality, that brief -and happy reminiscence of their love; and whether it did not pertain -to a life in past ages and under some different phase of existence. -In short, his thoughts, under the high-pressure put upon him, became -rather wild and incoherent at times. - - - - -CHAPTER VII. - -CECIL'S VISITOR. - -From the monotony of his moody and irritating reflections he was -roused one day by the entrance of a visitor, and he started on -finding himself face to face with Margarita Palenka, who had come to -the camp on horseback, escorted by old Theodore, the veteran of -Sadowa. Her eyes were full of unshed tears, as she gave Cecil her -hand, and it was impossible for him to behold this beautiful girl's -sympathy unmoved. - -'How can I ever thank you,' said he, 'for all this deep and kindly -interest in me--almost a stranger?' - -'I fear the worst, from what my brother says,' she replied in a low -and husky voice. - -'The worst--death?' - -'Better that than--Siberia!' - -'So say I,' was Cecil's grim response; and then he added hotly: 'I am -a British subject; how dare they menace me with such a fate?' - -'A British subject once--a Servian soldier now,' said she, gravely. - -Cecil thought of the old Cameronians, and his heart seemed to swell -painfully, while he eyed with some contempt the brown sleeve of his -Servian tunic. - -Margarita had come to Deligrad, we have said, on horseback; thus a -brown riding-habit--almost claret-coloured in tint, out of compliment -to the Servian uniform, and like it faced with scarlet and laced with -gold--set off her magnificent bust and figure generally. A smart hat -encircled by a white ostrich feather, with white riding gauntlets, -made up a costume that was altogether very effective, and became the -brilliant and striking character of her beauty. - -At her left breast she wore the bright ribbon of St. Catherine of -Russia, procured for her by Tchernaieff, and given to ladies of rank -alone. - -'Think not ill of me for this visit,' said she after a pause, and -when he led her to a seat on the divan; 'I have come to comfort you, -when none other dare attempt it--to save you if I can, and none other -dare attempt that either, or is perhaps inclined to do so.' - -She felt the peculiarity, the delicacy of her position; and Cecil -felt it too, with a rush of gratitude in his heart--all the greater, -no doubt, that she was so beautiful in person, and winning in manner. - -Intensely interested as she had found herself to be in the fortunes -and safety of a young stranger; knowing the wiles and the vengeance -of which he was assuredly the victim, and all that he had to -apprehend in the present and in the future, sleep had almost deserted -the eyes of Margarita for some nights past, and thus their lids were -inflamed and her face looked wan. For hours, without retiring to -bed, she had been wont to sit musing by the windows of her room, -watching the stars as they shone above the dark woods of Palenka, and -listening to the distant roar of the Morava, till inaction became -torture, and she made up her mind to ride to Deligrad, to discover -the truth of all the alarming stories that had reached her and the -old countess, and also what she could do to serve--if possible to -save him. - -Hence her most unexpected visit to Cecil. - -'When you warned me to beware of Mattei Guebhard,' said he, 'I could -little imagine, or anticipate, all he can be capable of.' - -'And I little thought, when we parted at Palenka, to see you again,' -said she, with something pathetic in her voice; 'and less than all, -under such circumstances as the present.' - -'But you do not believe--you cannot believe----' - -'About the commission? No--of course not: the idea of your being -colonel of a regiment of such wretches as the Black Mountaineers is -too absurd! Savages whose tastes for strong waters, the property of -their neighbours, and the noses, ears, and even the skulls of their -enemies, are proverbial,' she added with a shudder. 'Besides, I -understand that you never even heard of Kara Georgevitch?' - -'Never before. I knew not there was such a person in existence.' - -'How singular! I have met him often at Vienna; danced with him at -the palace on the west side of Innerstadt, and know that he--admired -me very much,' she added, with a little smile. - -'His commission had my name in it, my accusers assert.' - -'I do not yet understand the mystery of that--though how it came into -your possession is plain enough to me.' - -'And to be accused of killing a couple of Montenegrins----' - -'Who would have killed you if they could! The concealed paper was a -_dernier ressort_, in case you escaped them. Oh, it is all so like -the subtle and elaborate villany of Mattei!' - -'And how absurd is the accusation that I meant to carry away the -King's despatches for the service of Kara Georgevitch or the Turks, -when I risked life to defend them!' - -'Time will unravel all this--meantime, I shall watch over you, if I -can,' said she, almost tenderly, holding out her hand to him -ungloved, with a pretty yet imperious air, as if to show its -whiteness and beauty, for she was a coquette to the tips of her -fingers. - -He touched it very lightly, but instead of retaining it, as she -doubtless expected, drew back--as if to avoid temptation, she seemed -to think, for she said haughtily: - -'You forget yourself, sir, or me!' - -'Would that I could do so!' said Cecil. - -The gentleness of his tone, the sadness and bewilderment of his air, -touched her; she took his hand deliberately in both hers, and kissing -him on the forehead with warm and throbbing lips, said: - -'My brother's preserver and my brother's friend! I repeat that I -have come to serve you and save you, if I may--to see you and comfort -you at least, in a land where you are so utterly friendless.' - -Her voice broke a little. - -'By whose permission did you reach me?' asked Cecil hastily, and -apparently oblivious of her emotion. - -'That of Tchernaieff--he could not refuse me.' - -'Who that looked upon your face could refuse you anything!' he -exclaimed, more in a spirit of gallantry than anything else. - -'I detest compliments; so seek not to flatter me.' - -'Nay, flattery exists not in paying praise due to beauty or merit, -but in praise misplaced.' - -After a pause, Cecil said with a smile: - -'Surely you never, at any time, loved this man Mattei Guebhard?' - -'I never did so,' said she, emphatically; 'but, I once said before, I -could not help him loving me. I have never loved anyone; and -moreover I shall never--marry!' - -Now Cecil had known and seen enough of the world to be aware that -when a handsome young woman declares her intention of never marrying, -it becomes one of the broadest hints a man can receive; and, under -all the circumstances, he heard her now with a perplexity that -bordered on irritation. - -At such a time cold reason might suggest that Mary Montgomerie, and -his country too, were lost to him for ever! In Servia was his new -home; Margarita was beautiful, anxious to serve him and to win his -gratitude--too evidently his love, if she could. Just rage at -Guebhard invited him to meet her half-way; but the image of Mary came -before Cecil, and he thought: - -'Montrose was right in his song--"Love one, and love no more!"' - -He was perfectly conscious that some time or other, at Palenka, he -_had_ spoken of love to Margarita; but was then referring to his love -of Mary Montgomerie; while she had believed that he was in some -curious way pleading his own cause with herself. - -There was even now a struggle going on in the heart of Margarita, -between her mind and her affections; and though eventually it seemed -as if the latter would conquer, some sense of propriety, of what -society and training inculcated, and the moral force of her own -spirit, did battle against them; and then, moreover, she was not -without some dread of her brother the Count of Palenka. - -Despite all this, and her recent coquettish announcement that she -could never love, and would never marry any man, Cecil found her -coming to the point with him and taking the initiative, piqued -perhaps that he was the only man she had never yet subdued; and so, -before he knew very well how it had all come to pass, or by what she -had prefaced it, he was startled by her saying in her most dulcet -Servian: - -'So you think, dear Cecil, I could make your life a happy one?' - -She asked this softly, yet a little imperiously, while flicking the -skirt of her riding-habit impatiently with her switch, and with -downcast looks, as Cecil paused in perplexity, thinking, 'What had he -said to draw this forth?' - -'Surely I am not so uncivilised; I don't ever paint and powder, like -all the English girls I saw at Vienna!' she added. - -'But,' said poor Cecil, who thought he had perils enough to -encounter, without thus being 'run to earth,' and having this -perplexity added to them, by an impulsive girl, who probably had -something Hungarian and Italian in her blood, inherited from the old -heyduc; 'but they don't all wear paint and powder--and one girl I -knew at home certainly did not do so.' - -This was, to say the least of it, an unfortunate speech. - -'One,' said Margarita, with a flash in her eyes; 'who was she?' - -'One of whom you remind me--at times,' he replied, thinking to -compliment her by saying that which was simply untrue. - -'_Who_ was she--who _is_ she--one you cared for?' - -'Not as I care for you,' replied Cecil unwisely, yet truthfully -enough; 'but long ago--ah, how long ago it seems--she passed out of -my life, and I out of hers.' - -'She is dead, then?' - -'Yes--to me.' - -'To the world, you mean--so she is in a convent, then?' said -Margarita, readily adopting the idea suggested by herself. - -'You have no need to be jealous of her,' said Cecil. - -'Nor am I,' replied Margarita proudly, and still switching her -riding-skirt. - -'Was she like me, as you say?' - -'Handsome, with perfect features--_mignonne_ face, and----' - -'Enough--let us talk of ourselves now,' said Margarita softly, and -then Cecil found himself adopted and placed--he feared--on the -footing of an accepted lover, without having attempted to play the -character, in any way. - -What might be the result, if this too evident regard for him turned -to hatred under his coolness? He remembered the well-known couplet -in Congreve's 'Mourning Bride,' and became filled with positive -apprehension, if it be true that there is 'no fury like a woman -scorned.' - -Platonism was evidently a _rôle_ she did not understand; and when any -suspicion of his doubts or hesitation occurred to her, her full proud -lips curled, her dark eyes flashed, and a flush crossed her cheek. -But how was he to indulge in love-making--and still more in affecting -such, environed by perils as he was then. - -It was but too evident that Margarita, like most coquettes, had -fallen a victim to herself at last, and was actually pining for a man -who had never spoken to her more than words of the merest friendship -and thanks; and but for the memory of Mary, and a sentiment of -chivalry that mingled with his love for her, Cecil, under all the -circumstances of his position, might have yielded to the temptation -that beset him, and at all hazards have become the lover of this -Servian girl, whose wild impulses came to her with the mixed blood of -more than one fiery race; and who, hence, could not be judged of by -the same standard as an English girl of the same position. - -At last she rose to retire. - -'I cannot conceal from you, that, from all I hear, your peril is very -great,' said she, nervously attempting to button her riding -gauntlets, a task which Cecil hastened to perform for her. - -'I shall demand a court-martial!' he exclaimed. - -'Palenka tells me that such will not be accorded to you.' - -'What then?' - -'By the fiat of the King, through the minister of police, you may -be--will be--I cannot speak it,' she continued in a broken voice, as -her tears fell fast, and her head drooped for a moment on his -shoulder; 'rather let me aid you to escape, and fly this place for -ever. Have you money?' - -'None.' - -'That shall be my care--and horses too, by which to reach the -frontier of Bulgaria, about fifty miles from this, where you will be -comparatively safe. But how to get you out of this place--and how to -elude these Russian sentinels at the door, are the difficulties that -appal and bewilder me!' - -'Margarita, the idea of flight is most repugnant to me--it looks so -like timidity and confession of guilt.' - -'They are determined to deem you guilty, I fear, under any -circumstances. You have but yourself to consider, and--me.' - -'But without a guide----' - -'Fear not for that--I shall provide you with a guide too,' she -replied with a bright and tender smile; and so ended this strange -interview, which, for a little time at least, had served to lure him -from his troubles, yet had added to his perplexity; for he felt that -if Margarita saved him from impending peril--and that she would do so -at all hazard he never doubted--that circumstance would load him with -a debt of gratitude which the devotion of his future life could--in -her estimation--alone repay! - - - - -CHAPTER VIII. - -BAFFLED! - -There could be no doubt that Cecil had interested Margarita tenderly -and deeply. She had studied him closely; she was acute, and had -gathered, from much he had mentioned incidentally at Palenka, that he -had been unfortunate already in life, young though he was, and that -he had 'a history,' as Mary Montgomerie and Annabelle Erroll had -surmised before. - -She guessed that his boyhood and youth had not been quite happy, and -this, more from his reserve concerning them than from confessions -made. She gathered, too, that over his early years no father's love -or protection had been thrown; that he had no brother or sister, but -had possessed a mother on whose memory he doted, and at the mention -of whose name she saw the expression of his eyes soften, and heard at -times his voice grow tremulous; and she loved him all the more for -the little halo of mystery that seemed to surround him. - -And she had remarked, with pain, how the rich gloss had left his dark -brown hair, and that there were haggard lines about his eyes and -mouth; and that much of the soldierly _débonnaire_ frankness and -manner in his bearing was gone now. - -Empowered by the possession of Tchernaieff's signed permission 'for -the bearer to visit the prisoner,' and encouraged by the absence of -her brother Palenka at the headquarters of General Dochtouroff, she -came again at noon to make final arrangements for his escape and -flight. - -'But how to get out of Deligrad?' said he, after their first -greetings were over; and here we may mention that, literally, _grad_ -means a fortress in that part of the world. - -'That will be my task,' replied Margarita. - -'But to fly, like a coward, or a criminal!' - -'I wish you could fly like a bird,' said she, playfully. 'Heed not -scruples--what scruples have these people with you? There is no -shame in such a flight. Believe me, Cecil, I do not speak -unadvisedly. If you would be a living man--at the least an -unfettered prisoner, being taken you know not whither,' she -continued, in a voice that suddenly broke, 'you must be out of -Deligrad to-morrow night. Let us not waste time. Listen, and obey -me; I will find the occasion, the means, the guide, a sure means of -escape, if you will but avail yourself of them.' - -Did she mean to accompany him in his flight? He half feared so, not -knowing how far the wild impulses of this fair continental might -carry her; but he was not left long in doubt. - -'Once clear of Deligrad and the advanced posts,' said she, 'you will -proceed by Banga and Nissa, but that town must be avoided, as it is -fortified with ramparts, palisades, and closely-watched gates; then -by Mustapha-pacha or Glana; but that being a fortress, must be -avoided too; and once beyond Stolo, oh, Cecil, we shall be safe!' - -'_We?_' - -'I must accompany you to ensure your safety; it is only some fifty -miles; and if my share in your flight is discovered, as it is sure to -be, what will be my fate? Then Bulgaria or cold Britain must be my -abiding-place, after all.' - -'_Nous verrons_,' was the dubious response of Cecil, as he took her -hand in his, and her eyes drooped. 'And your plan?' he asked, with -an ill-repressed smile. - -'Ottilie--you remember Ottilie; she is a tall girl; and will come -hither about dusk, armed with a pass, and wearing the cap and capote -of a Russian officer. Clad in this costume, you take her place and -pass out; she will give you the parole, when I get it.' - -'Leaving her here?' - -'Yes.' - -'And what will be her punishment?' - -'Palenka will save her, I have not the slightest doubt.' - -'Could he not, then, save you? Is there no other plan?' - -'Listen to me,' she continued, impetuously. 'To give each of the -sentinels a cup of drugged vodka would be easy enough, and doubtless -they would drink them to the last drop. I have seen such things done -on the stage at the theatre in Vienna, and read of such things again -and again in romances; but they would be discovered asleep on their -post, ere you were clear of this--so the disguise is the most perfect -plan, and the darkness will favour it.' - -As they spoke their hands were fondly linked for a time--his, in a -spirit of purest gratitude; hers, passionately--there was no -concealing that! - -'You will give the parole,' she continued, in a low voice, 'and pass -on to the group of cottages lying yonder in the hollow on the right -of the camp, and there old Theodore will be waiting with horses when -the evening gun is fired. No more; you know all, and now I must be -gone.' - -'Farewell, Margarita; to me you are a protecting angel--yet, ere you -go----' he bent down and kissed her, as her face fell on his neck. - -'Regard me as a sister,' she faltered: and in a moment more he was -alone, with a confused sense of not having exhibited sufficient -gratitude or regard for one who was risking so much for him. - -After she was gone the hours passed slowly, while Cecil remained sunk -in thoughts that were far from being pleasant. - -Times there were when he felt sullenly and doggedly resigned to the -inevitable, whatever it might be--to await what fate had in store for -him. His essay in a new country, a new service and field, for -laudable ambition, had proved a miserable and total failure, and life -seemed to have no prize for him now that was worth consideration. - -Other times there were when a fierce gust of impatience and -indignation possessed him, and he paced his room like a caged -lion--impatience of coercion and just indignation at the severe -treatment to which he was subjected, the unjust suspicion under which -he lay, and the dangers which menaced him at the hands of the -ignorant, prejudiced, and uninquiring officials at whose mercy he -found himself. - -Thus he fell the more readily into Margarita's scheme of seeking -safety in flight, and so ending all connection between himself and -the Servian army. - -'Death or Siberia--death or Siberia! What manner of death?' he would -ask of himself; 'a soldier's, surely?' - -He felt sometimes, in his over-tension of thought, that peculiar -emotion which many must have experienced--as though he was not -himself, but had two separate identities; and that the old self was -far away from that prison room, before the windows of which the two -Russian sentinels seemed to tread for ever to and fro, with their -bayonets glittering within arm's length of him. - -Were misfortune and he to go for ever hand in hand? He deemed that -already he had offered up hostages, bitterly, to evil destiny, when -he was thrust out of his beloved regiment, when he lost Mary, and was -cast, nameless, on the world; and lo! the hand of fate was on him -again, and more heavily than ever. - -And ever and anon a gust of rage at Guebhard shook his breast, with a -longing for just vengeance upon him. Guebhard was evidently one of -those strange and pernicious creatures who crop up at rare times in -all phases of society, and have existed in all ages of mankind--one -of a miserable band of men who, according to an essayist, resemble -the lowest animals of creation, and are far more pitiless when their -hate or hunger are raised. 'They are as crafty as they are cruel; -they watch, wait, and see whom they can destroy, and outrage every -feeling dear to the majority of mankind; and to call such men brutes -is to throw scorn upon creatures who may be considered superior to -them in every way.' - -Such a man was Mattei Guebhard! - -Cecil could punish him, certainly, by carrying off Margarita, and -taking her for ever beyond his reach; but how was he--Cecil--a -fugitive in Bulgaria, without a ducat in his pocket, to subsist -there, and with a beautiful girl on his hands, unless he offered his -sword and his services to Osman Pasha, whose army was ere long to -advance upon Plevna? - -Anything--any risk--he thought, was better than utter inaction. The -suspense of his position was intolerable; and it would be easier, he -imagined, when the worst had come, whatever it was, when it was -faced, and all was over for ever! - -So the day passed slowly on towards evening; the sounds in the busy -and crowded camp began to lessen and nearly die away; sunset drew -near, and the in-lying pickets were beginning to fall in with -greatcoats and knapsacks, and Cecil looked from time to time towards -the group of white walled cottages, shadowed by dark cypresses, in -the hollow near the camp, where even now, perhaps, old Theodore -awaited him with the horses, and his heart leaped when suddenly the -evening-gun boomed from the earthen rampart on the summit of the -position, and the Servian tricolour came fluttering down the staff as -it was struck for the night. - -Steps sounded on the wooden stairs, and a personage entered, clad in -Russian uniform, ushered by the serjeant of the guard. The moment -the latter withdrew, Ottilie, for it was she, divested herself of a -false beard and moustache of grizzled hair, and it seemed strange to -see suddenly the smooth and handsome face, the dark laughing eyes and -pouting lips of the pretty Servian girl. - -She wore the deep peak of a flat Russian forage-cap well down over -her face, which was also further hidden by the high fur-collar of a -long regimental grey capote, which reached nearly to the ground, and -in them she proceeded at once to invest Cecil, saying that Theodore -awaited him at the appointed place. - -Obedient to the will of her mistress, Ottilie, poor girl, seemed to -have none of her own, and had no fear for herself save in disobeying -the orders of Margarita. - -Cecil, even now, lingered in adopting the costume she brought -him--lingered with mingled repugnance and rage at having to adopt -such a _rôle_. Then came an emotion of disgust at a service which -forced such a _rôle_ upon him, mingled with a longing for the freedom -proffered, and so close at hand. Already, in fancy, he seemed to be -in the open air--the free breezy atmosphere, at liberty, and in the -saddle, galloping on and on towards the Bulgarian frontier; already -he seemed to feel the horse under him; to be inhaling the perfume of -night, the fragrance of the pine-forests by the broad-flowing Morava; -but then he thought of the girl whom he was to leave in his place, -and his heart died within him! - -She covered her face with her hands, and, while she wept bitterly, -exclaimed, in broken accents: - -'Oh, Herr Lieutenant, I have destroyed you! I have forgotten the -pass-word!' - -'Perhaps it is as well,' said he, with stern composure; 'but don't -weep, my brave girl, and, hush! cloak yourself again, some one is -coming.' - -Steps, voices, and lights were all on the creaking stairs without, -and the guard on the house were now under arms in front of it. Who -were coming? What had caused an alarm? Had the plot of Margarita -been discovered. - -'Quick, disguise yourself and begone--you have not a moment to lose,' -exclaimed Cecil, compelling Ottilie to resume her costume and prepare -to withdraw; and it seemed to him that while life lasted, if for -thirty years, as it might do now only for thirty minutes, he would -never forget the memory of those voices and steps on the staircase, -or the glare of light that streamed under the door across the bare -floor of his room. - -The idea of resistance, mad and desperate, of shooting down the first -man who entered (for Ottilie had given him pistols), occurred to -Cecil; but only to be relinquished, as he thought of the poor girl -whom he might involve in ruin if he shed blood; and, throwing the -weapons to the other end of the apartment, he drew himself proudly up -to await whatever fate had in store for him now; and he did not doubt -that it was terribly close and finally arranged, when, among the -group who entered, he recognised his former grim visitors, the deputy -minister of police, and the provost-marshal of the camp! - - - - -CHAPTER IX. - -CROSS PURPOSES. - -'Good morning, Fotheringhame,' said Sir Piers, as his guest entered -the breakfast-room betimes, in shooting-costume, and ready for the -preserves; 'I trust that Eaglescraig air and Eaglescraig claret and -whisky brought you pleasant dreams.' - -'There are other and better adjuncts here to suggest pleasant -dreams,' replied Fotheringhame, as his eye rested for a moment on the -two young ladies, and he gave his hand to Mrs. Garth, after which an -animated discussion about sport ensued between him and the general, -while Mary and Annabelle idled over their letters. - -Leslie Fotheringhame was one of those kind of men of whom little is -usually seen when staying in a country house; thus, short though his -visit was to be, and important the object which brought it about, all -the day subsequent to his arrival he was beating the covers, and -after the partridges, with old Sandy Swanshot the keeper. - -Was Annabelle disappointed in this? we are forced to admit that she -was piqued by it, however. - -Like many social monomaniacs, Mrs. Garth considered herself an able -tactician, and thought to set matters right between these sundered -twain; but in this instance she failed signally, especially with -Annabelle; there seemed something mysterious in the quarrel, their -relation to each other, and their mutual sentiments, which the old -lady could not fathom. - -Annabelle was very bitter on the subject. - -'His presence here is an insult to me, Mary,' said she, after -watching him cross the lawn, and disappear with the keeper and the -dogs; 'and every time his eyes meet mine, they seem to be examining -me, as if to learn how I bear his defection.' - -'If I can read eyes aright, they wear a very different expression, -Annabelle,' said Mary; 'but his presence here with you is indeed a -singular coincidence.' - -'After what happened in Perthshire, Mary, I made myself too cheap in -Edinburgh, when we met again; and truth to tell you, darling, though -I cannot hate--but love him still,' she continued, with her eyes -flashing through unshed tears; 'I must hate myself for doing so--and -despise myself for my infatuation. That my regard should be too -lightly, too easily won, and re-won, by one who valued it not! But, -if his majesty thinks he has but to throw the handkerchief, he is -mightily mistaken,' she added haughtily. - -'To me it seemed as if his eyes wore almost an imploring look as he -bade his adieu to you and left the breakfast table,' urged Mary, in -her gentle manner; but though the idea was pleasant and soothing to -Annabelle's angry pride, she replied that she felt only astonishment -and indignation at his _hardiesse_ in looking at, or addressing her -at all. - -'Am I to be a fool like the fair Elaine, who wasted all her life in -caring for one man? But then there are no Sir Launcelots of the Lake -now.' - -Yet Annabelle, while sedulously schooling her heart to be -indifferent, felt to the full, as far as Leslie Fotheringhame was -concerned, how, mind and manner apart, 'one human being is felt to be -more attractive for mere bodily reasons than all the rest of the -world besides.' - -Though a little provoked that he had gone forth to shoot, and waste, -as she deemed it, a precious day in the coverts, Mary was grateful to -Fotheringhame for the object which brought him to Eaglescraig---his -interest in Cecil Falconer--or Montgomerie, as she had taught herself -to call him now. - -In her mind he was every way associated with the days when life -became to her an Eden--when loverlike she discovered that secresy and -silence were sweet to cultivate; when the garden, the woods and -fields, the moon, the stars, the sky, had all new charms, beauty, and -brightness they had never possessed before, and her intercourse with -Cecil became a system of emblems, metaphors, parables, whispers, and -pressures of the hand. - -How far away that delicious period of her life seemed now; and -he--where was he? In a land to her less than half known, wholly -barbarous, and where he was hourly menaced by a violent death. - -'How large your ring seems for you now!' said Annabelle, as she toyed -with Mary's hand. - -'How much smaller my finger has become since Cecil placed it there!' -replied Mary, turning the diamond engagement hoop wistfully; 'I am so -afraid of losing it, that I wear mamma's wedding-ring as a -guard--many have done that.' - -Fotheringhame returned late from the coverts, and long after the -keeper had brought in his bag. - -'Did you lose your way?' asked Mary. - -'No, Miss Montgomerie; but I lost a locket from my chain--a locket -that I would not lose for any sum of money.' - -'And you found it, I hope?' - -'Yes--here it is--but after a long hunt among the gorse and brake.' - -'Is it so valuable, then?' - -'To me it is.' - -'May I ask what it contains?' asked Mary, laughingly, as she saw it -dangling from his watch-chain. - -'Well--a lock of hair--and----' - -'What more?' she continued, archly. - -'If you insist on knowing, the likeness of my--future wife,' said he -in a whisper, yet not so low but that it reached the ears of the -startled Annabelle; and Mary was so shocked, so pained and full of -pity for her, that she grew very pale indeed, and questioned him no -more, and he laughingly retired to dress for dinner. - -'So--so,' thought Annabelle; 'the locket I gave him actually contains -the portrait of a woman--doubtless, she of the hazel eyes!' - -Fotheringhame felt that he loved, or had loved, this proud girl -earnestly and deeply; and that she with equal earnestness and depth -resented something on his part which had, perhaps, driven her to -loving some one else; thus the new emotion of jealousy was infused in -his mind, imparting a constraint to his manner, while Annabelle felt -that she had been merely the plaything of his idle hours. Thus each -shut up their real feelings; and to a greater extent than either -knew, they were at cross purposes. - -Annabelle thought that she had overheard and discovered enough to -cure her even of regret, and to steel her heart and make her seem -what she wished to be, studiedly calm and indifferent to all -appearance; but this resolution was rather severely tested when after -dinner, instead of joining Sir Piers in the smoking-room, -Fotheringhame came lounging deliberately out to the terrace before -the house, where she was lingering alone, with a Shetland shawl -thrown over her head, and when he joined her, and--as she thought -with singular coolness and effrontery--made some commonplace remarks -upon the warmth and beauty of the autumnal evening, to which she -assented coldly and briefly. - -'Chance has thrown us together again--a chance for which I had ceased -to hope,' said he, in a low and earnest voice; 'and, Annabelle--if -you will once more permit me to call you so--I would wish to talk -with you calmly and dispassionately over that estrangement which has -been a source of great bewilderment and the keenest sorrow to me.' - -She was amazed at his hardihood; but said, quietly and gently, while -keeping her face averted, as he continued to walk by her side: - -'If you are disposed to take a philosophical view of what has -certainly crushed my pride--if I ever had any--and sorely wounded my -self-esteem--nay more, has caused, I am willing to own, a great pang -to my heart--so am I, Captain Fotheringhame. Our acquaintance, to -call it by its least name, has been a most unfortunate one; so, if we -talk at all, perhaps we may find another subject.' - -And she continued to look straight before her, with her face half -averted, and thankful that she had a veil--at least the Shetland -screen--to conceal the proud and passionate tears that welled up in -her blue and handsome eyes. - -Meanwhile Mary, remembering Fotheringhame's awkward revelation so -recently, was watching the pair with more anxiety than hope or -exultation, and was perhaps a little surprised to see them gradually -quit the terrace and descend to the shrubbery walk in the garden -below. - -'When will our consultation about Cecil begin!' she thought, a little -petulantly and impatiently. 'If a separation from one we love, -though short, is hard to bear, what must such as mine from Cecil be?' - -He might die in that distant land--how dreadful to consider such a -contingency!--and in dying, never know of the good fortune that -awaited him at home, of who his family were, and the bright hope that -now smiled upon his love for her! - -Meanwhile those she had been watching were now in a sequestered walk. - -'You have suffered, Annabelle,' said Fotheringhame, in an agitated -voice, as he turned and confronted her; 'I can read it in your face.' - -'If I have suffered, sir, it has been through you.' - -'Oh, say not so,' he exclaimed in a prayerful way. - -'Sir--your manner--your mode of conduct, bewilder me!' she exclaimed, -as she was about to sweep away, when he strove to take her hand, but -she withdrew, it sharply and defiantly. - -'Annabelle!' he said reproachfully. - -'How dare you--how can you be so persistently cruel?' she cried -haughtily, while cresting up her head. There were no tears in her -eyes or voice now. - -'Cruel, Annabelle?' - -There was the old charm in his voice, and she could not resist it. - -'Why was that letter--my last to you--returned to me unopened?' - -'Because, Captain Fotheringhame, I thought it right to do so.' - -She was gazing at him now steadily and defiantly. - -'Had you read that letter it would have explained all.' - -'Who the mysterious "F.F." is, or was.' - -'Yes,' said he sadly, with a peculiar inflection of voice. - -'Enough of this,' said Annabelle, haughtily; 'I leave you and all -your interests to the--the lady whose likeness is in your valued -locket.' - -'You do? If I have been guilty of aught, in your eyes, you will -certainly forgive me when you look upon her face.' - -'Your intended! permit me to pass, Captain Fotheringhame--surely I -have been subjected to mockery and insult enough to satisfy even you!' - -With tender and observant eyes, Leslie Fotheringhame was watching her -soft features, and saw them all quiver over, as if with a sudden -pang, and his heart was moved, for a lovely face was hers. With much -of reverential tenderness he detached the locket from his chain, -opened it, and then Annabelle beheld a likeness of herself--simply a -finely coloured photo, forgotten by her, but evidently treasured by -him. - -Annabelle was startled on seeing this, but not disconcerted. - -'And so, sir,' said she, 'while loving another woman, you have in -mockery, and perhaps for the amusement of your mess-room friends, -dared to carry my likeness about with you!' - -She spoke firmly, and with difficulty restrained a passionate fit of -tears--of wild weeping, in fact. - -'I never loved another woman--or any one but you, and you alone, -Annabelle, as I can swear to you with truth,' said he, earnestly and -tenderly. - -'And who, then, was the woman whose initials were the same as your -own, or nearly so, with whom you had mysterious -meetings--correspondence, and all that appeared to be part and parcel -of a deep and concerted intrigue! But it is beneath me now to -inquire!' she added bitterly. - -'Annabelle, the returned letter would have told you all--my sister.' - -'Your sister!' repeated Annabelle, in a breathless voice, and with -some incredulity of manner. - -'My only sister Fanny--the runaway wife of a husband who is now in -India, and to pay whose debts I sold my troop in the Lancers. You -have surely heard of your cousin Fanny Fleming. She had no friend in -the world but me. I thought to conceal her existence from you and -others; but you have wrung the secret from me. A false wife--a -helpless, hopeless creature; but her sorrows, her repentances and all -are ended now, and she is in her grave. God rest her!' - -There was a silent pause, during which, he could see how the bosom of -Annabelle heaved with every respiration. - -'And this was all your mystery?' said she, looking up with her eyes -full of tears, and her lips quivering. - -'All! and more than enough. It was to me a source of great horror, -shame, and sorrow, to find my beloved sister--one whom many women -loved, and all men admired; whose breast was the mansion of goodness -and purity once--she, my gentle and loving sister, the child of the -same father, nurtured by the same mother! and could I forsake her -because she was in adversity, in sorrow, and repentant, and from whom -all else in the world turned?' - -'Oh, Leslie!' she exclaimed, as she frankly placed both her hands in -his, and he drew her towards him, saying tenderly: - -'Annabelle, let me prove my faith to you--forgive me----' - -'I have nothing to forgive.' - -'Then let us forget the miserable past.' - -She felt his breath upon her half-averted cheeks, and his low and -earnest whisper in her little white ear; and then, while weeping -heavily, she fell on his breast. - -'My darling,' she said in a broken voice, 'if I had only known of -this--how different all would have been--how much spared us! Why did -you not tell me--your sister----' - -'I was not aware how much appearances were against me; and with you, -I became jealous of some imaginary person. I shrunk from the task at -first, and you--you returned, unread, the letter which would have -explained all. But you are glad now, dearest?' - -'Glad! O Leslie, to any other than you, I might refrain from -admitting that I have never--since the day we parted--ceased to love -you; and have now learned to love you more than ever.' - -'And I love you, Annabelle, with the passion that comes only once in -a man's life-time!' - -And so, for a time, it may be inferred that this pair were pretty -oblivious of the absent Cecil in Servia, and his interests at home. - - - - -CHAPTER X. - -THE TELEGRAM. - -In her joy and impulsiveness, Mary actually embraced Leslie -Fotheringhame, and kissed him when she heard from Annabelle of the -reconciliation, and explanation of all that seemed so unpleasant and -mysterious. - -'Had she not loved you--yes, loved you dearly--do you think she would -have felt all this so much--so keenly and so bitterly!' said Mary to -Fotheringhame. - -And hearty were the congratulations of the general, who was pleased -that Eaglescraig should be the scene of such an event, though love -and lovers' quarrels were somewhat beyond his sympathies now; but he -liked Fotheringhame, as a friend of the absent Cecil, and he had a -strong regard for Annabelle, the only daughter of an old and valued -Indian comrade; so the episode immediately brought to memory one of -his inevitable 'up-country' reminiscences. - -'Talking of lovers' quarrels,' said he, as they idled over the -dessert; 'egad! I remember one which was not without some strange -features. When we were in Lucknow, under Inglis--just about the time -of the first outbreak of the mutiny--a pair of lovers met, who had -quarrelled in some jealous pique at a ball in Chowringhee. Olive -Vane was a pretty brunette, daughter of an old Sudder judge, and her -Romeo was Bob Acharn--cousin of Acharn of Ours, a lieutenant of the -Bengal Native Infantry. There was not a better fellow at -pig-sticking, or shooting, in all India than Bob; and I remember -that, at Jodpore, he watched and waited for days and nights to pot a -man-eater that had made a whole village desolate. - -'As people don't lose time in love affairs in India, it was fully -arranged that--the quarrel made sweetly up--the lovers should be -married on the 31st of May, though many there were who said that the -time was not one for marrying or giving in marriage, for the rising -of the Pandies at Meerut, some time before, had sent a thrill of -terror through every European breast in India, and at Lucknow, as -elsewhere, it was uncertain when the secret hate of the natives might -burst into a flame. - -'The bridal party gathered, and at the very moment the clergyman was -asking the bride if she was ready, a musket-shot entered the room, -and she fell, mortally wounded. It had entered her chest, and then -ensued a scene which I cannot describe. - -'A company of Acharn's regiment--the 71st Bengal Native Infantry--had -been brought in from the Muchee Bawn for disaffection some days -before. They refused all obedience, and in vain were the black silk -colours they had borne at Sobraon displayed to them. It was deemed -imprudent to coerce them; and the result was that on that eventful -evening--the 31st of May, the _budmashes_, or armed mob of Lucknow, -rose, six thousand strong, crossed the Goomtee in wild tumult by a -ford--a dark mass amid which there were thousands of glittering -steel-points, rushing to join the mutineers. From one of the latter -came the shot that struck down Olive Vane. We turned the great guns -of the Residency upon them, and, after an hour's heavy firing, the -insurrection was suppressed for a time; but a time only. - -'During the attack and repulse, poor little Olive Vane lay motionless -on a sofa, with young Acharn bending over her, weeping like a boy, -and striving to staunch the blood that welled from the terrible wound -in her bosom--a wound which the doctors declared she could not -survive above an hour. When she recovered consciousness and learned -the truth, her courage never quailed, but she said: - -'"Bob--dearest, kiss me once again. If I am to die, I shall die -worthy of you." - -'"And I shall not survive you long, my darling; but there is yet time -for us to be united. Come, sir, we are ready," said he to the -clergyman, who, like all the rest of us, looked on with strange and -haggard eyes. - -'The girl's pale cheek flushed, but she was almost too weak to speak, -for mental joy seemed to struggle for mastery with physical pain. -What a strange sight she presented, lying there, her white bridal -dress all stained with her blood, her beautiful dark brown hair all -dishevelled, and looking so wan, so helpless, yet so resigned to die! - -'Bob Acharn took her hand, and the chaplain proceeded with the -ceremony. Thrice the quivering lips of Olive parted ere she could -articulate "yes," and when she did so, it was the last word she -uttered; and then a little foam came over her lips, for she was in -her parting agony. And as he concluded the ceremony the sobs of the -chaplain, who hid his face in his surplice, were echoed by those of -Acharn, and the old judge her father.' - -'A terrible story!' exclaimed Annabelle. - -'And Acharn--what became of him?' asked Mary. - -'He fought against the mutineers, with what animus you may imagine. -Seeking death daily, he seemed to have a charmed life, till the 5th -of September, when the enemy made their last serious and desperate -assault, and he was blown to pieces when they exploded a mine near -Apthorp's post, and strewed the garden around it with corpses.' - -Anxious that Fotheringhame should confer with the general about -Cecil, Mary had listened to this Indian story, though she heard it -for the first time, with some impatience. - -'I do believe,' she said, laughingly, to Annabelle, 'that when the -dear old man can't get an audience he tells some of his Indian -stories to himself!' - -'And now, Sir Piers,' said Fotheringhame, influenced by a glance from -Mary, the import of which he read aright, 'about the matter which -brought me here, and the subject of your many letters to Dick -Freeport and myself--what is to be done about my friend Cecil? We -can't leave him to risk life and limb in a wretched affair like the -Servian war.' - -'Of course not--of course not, my dear fellow,' replied Sir Piers: -'this self-imposed exile must be ended; he shall be restored to his -regiment and to us all. I must see him again--my boy's boy--once -again before I die!' he added, with sudden emotion. - -'Do not speak thus,' implored Mary, caressing him. - -'I have a great reparation to make, Mary--great reparation, to the -dead as well as the living. I have been a vain, selfish, -hard-hearted man; but I see my errors now, and shall make reparation, -I say. Why should not I go to Servia in search of him?' exclaimed -the old baronet, as his eye sparkled, and then he added sorrowfully: -'but I am stricken in years, and am almost as much use in the world -now as a gun without a lock, or a Scotch M.P. But we can set the -wires to work, and write to the Secretary of State for Foreign -Affairs.' - -'The world is a small place, after all, now; people are always -rubbing up against each other,' said Fotheringhame, cheerfully; 'then -there are the railways.' - -'Not in Servia,' said Mary. - -'Well, the international post; and it will go hard with us if we -don't trace the wanderer out. Besides, if the colonel gives me -leave, I may start for Servia myself.' - -'You!' exclaimed Mary and Annabelle simultaneously, but in tones so -different that Fotheringhame laughed; for the voice of the first was -expressive of joy and gratitude, and of the second, ill-concealed -alarm and dismay. - -We have elsewhere shown how the sister of Count Palenka was scheming -out the journey of Cecil to the frontier; so, pretty much about the -same time, another journey with reference to him was schemed out by -poor little Mary at Eaglescraig. - -Nothing as yet was defined as to the movements of Fotheringhame, if -he did adopt the idea of setting out in quest of his friend; for he -had his commanding officer to study, and Annabelle, who was of more -importance to him now than the F.M. commanding at the Horse Guards. - -But Mary, assisted by John Balderstone, chalked out his route, as she -conceived it must be, from London to Vienna and Buda-Pesth; from -thence to Belgrade by steamer, as she supposed. Oh! it seemed all -very plain and easy, seated over the map, which she could span with -her tiny hand. - -How she longed to go thither herself! So great was her impatience -that not even the enchanted carpet of the Arabian tale, which -transported its proprietor through the air to wherever he wished to -be, in an instant, or the enchanted bridle of the famous Ayrshire -'Deil of Ardrossan,' the possessor of which could make his steed -perform such wondrous feats of speed, would have sufficed her. - -She was full of schemes now for communicating with Cecil, for -discovering his exact whereabouts, and more than all, for bringing -him safely and quickly home; while the general thought chiefly of his -restoration to his former rank and position in the regiment. - -Mary had seen in Robertson's charming little drama of 'Ours,' how the -heroine made her way to the Crimea, amid the winter tempests, and -found the wretched hut of her lover, Hugh Chalcot. Why should she -not go to Servia and bring home the wanderer! Mrs. Garth would go, -of course; and might not Fotheringhame and Annabelle, with whom -matters were progressing so far now, make their wedding trip, if -solicitors and guardians would only look sharp about contracts and -settlements! - -It would be quite a joyous journey if the general would only consent, -for were not she and Cecil as solemnly engaged as a man and woman -could be, and with the full consent and sanction of him, her only -guardian! And the girl's heart seemed to go out to him, the absent -and the suffering, with a futile and passionate longing. - -Oh yes--yes; she saw it all, and had thought it and planned it so -cleverly, with dear old John Balderstone! So they would go, by -London, Vienna, and Belgrade, to--she continued, as he bent over the -map--to where Cecil was, for they would never--never come home -without him; and in anticipation, she imagined the joy, the wonder, -and the whole excitement of their sudden meeting. - -But one thing did provoke her a little! - -It seemed as if, in the presence of Annabelle and the new phase of -their love affair, the primary object of Fotheringhame's visit took -somewhat of a secondary place, till the latter, like the whole -household, was terribly startled one morning, when the wishes of all -were frustrated and their hopes crushed by an appalling and -bewildering Reuter's telegram, which Fotheringhame strove, but in -vain, to conceal from Mary, and which ran thus: - - -'The ex-British officer who is now a prisoner in the camp at -Deligrad, and under sentence, it is believed, of death for treason to -King Milano (as the Prince of Servia names himself) and treachery to -General Tchernaieff, is now known to be the same who so lately and so -gallantly saved the life of the latter in the battle on the banks of -the Morava, when Guebhard's troop of Lancers gave way and fled.' - - -'Now what on earth does all this mean?' exclaimed Fotheringhame, in -blank dismay, as he read this over for the third time to Mrs. Garth, -while Annabelle, who thought only of Mary, clung to his arm with her -eyes full of tears. - -'It is a sad--sad tragedy this of ours,' said the old lady, folding -Mary to her breast; 'but, my darling pet--it may be some mistake; let -us pray that it is so, and that light may come out of the darkness -yet.' - -'This is torture upon torture. O my God--is life worth living?' -wailed Mary in her heart, asking unconsciously the question of a -brilliant essayist. - - - - -CHAPTER XI. - -A DARK PREDICTION. - -It is perhaps impossible to describe adequately all that passed with -the speed of thought through Cecil's mind when the group of Servian -officials approached the room in which he was confined. - -He had heard the drums beaten at sunset, and somehow deemed the -falling in of the pickets--though a usual circumstance--a prelude, -perhaps, to his own execution, or a hopeless and degrading -transmission to some fortress, he knew not where; and where, too -probably, he would never be heard of again, but pass through life -chained to a heavy shot, with a number painted on his canvas caftan. - -Well, death, however sudden, was better than such a fate! - -For a moment or two his blood had stood still as the comers drew -near, and the noise of their swords and spurs was heard on the stair. -The unlocking of the door found an echo in his heart. - -He nerved himself, with a prayer on his lips, to hear the worst they -had to tell him--desperation and resignation curiously mingling in -his mind. - -'Oh why,' he muttered, 'are we born--why do we live only to endure, -to suffer, and to die?' - -Then he thought of the poor girl who shrunk close to him in her -disguise, and a great fear for her was added to his own agony of soul. - -Thus, he was rather surprised to find himself politely saluted by the -minister of police, by Count Palenka, and the provost-marshal, both -of whom had been so severe and sharp with him when last he saw them. - -'Herr Lieutenant,' said the deputy minister of police, 'we have the -pleasure of announcing to you that you are a free man--free without a -stain upon your honour, and may, when you choose, return to your -post.' - -'His Excellency General Tchernaieff has commissioned me personally to -restore to you your sword, which I do with profound pleasure,' said -Count Palenka, advancing in turn, and handing to the bewildered Cecil -his sword and waist-belt. - -'To what do I owe this change in my affairs?' he asked in an unsteady -voice, as if unable to realise the situation. - -'The discovery of the true character of that villain, Mattei -Guebhard!' replied Palenka. - -'Guebhard--who has now deserted to the Turks, and for whose head the -King now offers a reward of a thousand ducats,' added the police -official. - -'And when was this discovery made?' - -'At noon to-day, Herr Lieutenant.' - -'By whom?' - -'By my sister, Margarita, who has more legal acumen than all of us -put together,' replied Count Palenka; 'she asked to see the -commission found upon your person, and old Tchernaieff bluntly -refused to show it even to her. But you know how lovely she is, and -the spell of her power and presence--her polished _insouciance_ and -cultured as well as natural fascination, and how she unites the -witchery of a girl to that of a woman of the world. All this proved -too much for our old Cossack,' continued the count, laughing; 'he -yielded--put the document in her hand, and almost immediately her -quick eye detected the forgery.' - -'Forgery?' - -'Yes, the partial--for it was only partial--erasure of his name and -substitution of yours. A touch of some chemical acid, applied by the -Herr Deputy of Police, proved the truth beyond a doubt; and a rumour -of this reaching Guebhard in his tent, he fled, and is now safe in -the Turkish lines. So Margarita has saved you!' - -'Margarita?' repeated Cecil, almost mechanically. Why, after all -this discovery and removal of all suspicion of his honour, did she -still mean to carry out the intended scheme of flight--even to the -last moment, sending him the disguise by her maid Ottilie? To secure -him to herself--could he doubt it? It was a strange and wayward -idea; but any way, as matters stood now, she had loaded him with a -debt of gratitude which he never could repay. - -'You saved my life, as well as the life of Tchernaieff, Herr -Lieutenant,' said the count, taking his hand; 'I must never forget -that, and henceforward you may command me as you will.' - -Cecil could not help remembering that the count's mind had been a -little oblivious of the circumstance at their last interview; but, to -do him and Tchernaieff justice, they were both generous and profuse -in their apologies. - -The minister of police was not long in detecting the sex of the -terrified Ottilie as she attempted to leave the apartment, wherein -her presence and disguise led to the immediate suggestion of an -intrigue--which was so natural with a girl so pretty--and after some -laughter and quizzing, she was glad to let them all adopt the idea -and make her escape. - -So ended this somewhat melodramatic situation, of which, like -Margarita, Cecil had seen many with lime-light and orchestral -accompaniments, but he never thought to undergo the horror and -bitterness of heart consequent to being an actor therein on the stage -of real life. - -So, with an emotion of gladness all the greater and more keen from -the revulsion that took place in his mind, he buckled on his sword -and once more went forth a soldier and a free man; his gratitude to -Margarita mingling with a fierce and most unholy longing to be once -again face to face with Guebhard, a chance not unlikely to be soon -afforded to him by the fortunes of war. - - -'Welcome again, my dear fellow! glad indeed to see you!' - -'By Jove! we feared it was all up with you in that cursed affair!' - -Such were the greetings, with a warm shake of the hand, which Cecil -received from Pelham and Stanley when he visited them in the infantry -camp, which was chiefly in a wood near Deligrad, and where he found -them with some other officers seated near a fire, whereat a suddenly -improvised meal was in process of being cooked by their Servian -servants, and which consisted simply of a turkey, coated with clay -and roasted in a hole covered with hot ashes; which, together with -potatoes and tomatoes, was to be washed down with German beer. - -'Life here is not exactly the life of flies in amber, or that of -lotus-eaters,' said Pelham, laughing, after he heard the story of -Cecil's misadventure; 'but even here, where we have Montenegrins and -Bashi Bazouks in plenty, we don't often come across so accomplished a -scoundrel as this Mattei Guebhard.' - -'But, Falconer, old fellow, though a genuine Scot, brave as a lion -and obstinate as a mule, he nearly proved too much for you,' said -Stanley, proffering his cigar-case, 'and would have done so in the -end, but for your fair auxiliary. By Jove! that girl must be a -regular brick!' - -'You gave the Turks an _alerte_ at Alexinatz after I left the camp?' -said Cecil, to change the subject. - -'Your branch of the service, the cavalry, did,' replied Pelham; 'we -came on with the infantry supports, and, as we had to keep our faces -quite as often to our men, in leading them on, as to the enemy (you -know what cowardly beggars the Servians are!), I nearly had my dorsal -fin carried away by a carbine bullet. But here comes our turkey, -done to time; and now to dinner with what appetite we may.' - -'We have had no fighting since Alexinatz,' said Stanley, 'and our -camp-life seems tame after what has gone before it.' - -'Like claret on the top of champagne.' - -'Man alive! for days we have had nothing better to drink than German -beer, and Pelham consoles himself by expatiating on Moselle as if he -had been weaned on it.' - -It was as music to Cecil, hearing once again the pleasantly modulated -and frank English voices of Pelham and Stanley, who made him so -welcome to share their humble repast--humble in its mode of -production and appurtenances--but both declared themselves sick of -Servia and its army, and after another battle or two, as the novelty -had worn off, they had resolved to resign and return home. - -Cecil thought that he would gladly do the same; but he had no home -that he knew of to return to. - -He knew nothing of the round sum so kindly offered and paid by -Stanley and Pelham for accounts of his safety, and the generous -fellows, of course, never mentioned it to him; but neither of them -knew that it eventually led to Guebhard--acting on the information of -the wood-cutters--tracking him as he did to Palenka, and from thence -through the forest. - -It was the evening of an autumn day, late in the year. A golden -light lingered on the mountain-slopes, and a soft, silvery mist rose -from the oak and pine forests that clothed them. The salmon were -leaping from rock to rock in a tributary of the Morava, that flowed -through the camp, and cattle were herding peacefully in the valleys -under the shadow of Mount Mezlanie; and the fields of Indian corn, -rice and maze were being reaped in places where the wild Turkish -Timariots had many a time in the days of old swept in furious bands -from Thrace to Belgrade, slaying the stalwart and young, the aged and -helpless; sparing the lovely alone as their spoil; and where, in -later times, the standard of Black George had led so often to -victory, but never to defeat. - -It was a glorious autumnal evening, and, seated there by the camp -fire with pleasant English comrades, and enjoying what had long been -a rarity to him, a good cigar, Cecil felt all the joyous impulses of -the time--a change or relaxation of mind, after all he had so lately -undergone. - -'Here,' said Pelham, as he lounged on the grass at full length, a -tawny beard of imposing aspect flowing over the breast of his brown -infantry tunic, and smoking his briar-root with the marked laziness -that follows a day of hard work and excitement, for he had been -foraging in the vicinity of the enemy--'here we have to do without -the thousand and one trifles that seem so necessary to one's -existence in the atmosphere of Tyburnia and Belgravia; and yet, -somehow, we don't seem to miss them.' - -'Your rescue of Tchernaieff and Palenka in the cavalry charge, and -your decoration with the Takova cross, and so forth, have all been -duly chronicled in the London papers,' said the dapper little -correspondent (before mentioned) to Cecil; 'and doubtless they have -been the means of sending a thrill through the breasts of the -listless, _nil admirari_ and languid snobs of society.' - -Has she heard of all this? was Cecil's only thought; and the dear old -Cameronians, too? - -As these heedless spirits had got hold of Margarita's name, and -knew--but not how far, exactly--she had been woven up in the network -of Cecil's late adventures, he had to undergo some raillery on the -subject, and somewhat to his annoyance. - -'It is an established fact in fiction and in real life--in history -and in poesy,' said Stanley, twirling his long moustache and adopting -a sententious tone, 'that a fellow must inevitably fall in love with -the pretty girl who nurses him after a spill in the hunting-field, -after a wound received in action, and more especially if she actually -saves his life; and this girl did yours, and she is downright lovely! -I saw her in the iron church, on the day that Tchernaieff distributed -so many crosses and medals to the troops. And you know, as Sancho -Panza says, "as days go and come, and straw makes medlars ripe," in -the fulness of time we may expect to see----' - -'Stanley, how your idle tongue wags!' - -'If it wags, it cannot be idle, Cecil; and if you are destined to -marry this fair Servian, and found a race of heyducs, or whatever the -deuce they are called, I suppose it is no use attempting to run away -from her.' - -Cecil, who knew more of what had passed between himself and Margarita -than the heedless speaker had the least idea of, felt his secret -annoyance increased by this banter. Owing her the most profound -gratitude, as he did, and painfully aware of her rash, wild, and -ill-concealed but ill-considered regard for himself--a regard by -which he felt himself imperilled, rather than charmed or -flattered--he could not, with patience, hear her name mentioned in -this way by these thoughtless fellows--blasé waifs from the society -of 'the West End.' - -'By Jove, how pink he grows!' exclaimed Pelham; 'but no doubt she -hopes to finish her maidenly career with you, Cecil.' - -'Hush!' said the latter, with open irritation, yet laughing to -conceal it if possible; 'here comes her brother.' - -Wearing a very handsome Russian uniform--a green tunic faced with -black velvet and laced with gold, and with several decorations -glittering on his breast, the count, on foot, with his sword under -his arm, approached the camp fire, and touched his flat round forage -cap in salute. - -'Herr Lieutenant,' said he to Cecil, 'I knew that I should find you -here. I have a message to you from the general, which I know you -will receive with pleasure.' - -Cecil started to his feet and bowed. - -'To reward you for all you have undergone, his excellency means to -give you a new opportunity for distinguishing yourself,' continued -Palenka, smiling. 'You are to reconnoitre, about dawn, the country -between Mount Mezlanie and the Timok river, about twenty miles from -this; observe its features, what you may see, and report thereon. -The picked men of your troop--your own, as yet without a captain--to -the number of twenty sabres, will parade at midnight, in front of the -general's quarters.' - -Cecil was still on the staff, but he accepted the duty assigned with -pleasure, and felt the hint conveyed, that his troop was as yet -without a captain, as the latter had been killed at Alexinatz. - -'I can stay with you but a few minutes, gentlemen,' said the count; -'and meantime will join you in a glass of some wine my servants have -brought, in honour of the Herr Lieutenant and his victory over the -jade Fortune.' - -'Tokay!' exclaimed Stanley, in a low voice, as he saw with interest a -Cossack extracting the tiny cobwebbed bottles: 'Tokay, by all the -gods!--such wine as can't be got for money, I have no doubt.' - -'You are right, Herr,' said the count, who overheard him; 'they are -the last of a present the Emperor gave my father--and I have just -begged Tchernaieff to accept, from me, a dozen--they are all of the -first brand, and from the grapes of Hegyallya.' - -Other officers now came to share the count's Hungarian wine--Russian -Hussars in sky-blue dolmans, Servian dragoons with queer forage caps, -like Scotch glengarries, and baggy red breeches; and a picturesque -group the whole made, Palenka being the most striking figure there. -He was very handsome, and would have formed a fine study for a -painter. He had a visage naturally pale, but embrowned by exposure, -a dark, martial, eagle-eye, and black moustache, with a general -daring, undaunted and fiery air about him--in aspect, curiously -between a man of fashion and a reckless Free Lance; a man who in -thought and habit had much of the old heyduc in him, and was perhaps -a little behind this unromantic, unmoved, and unheroic age. - -Beside him sat Pelham, a brave and reckless fellow, but of a very -different mould--under the middle size, yet a winning and -aristocratic-looking Englishman, about thirty years of age, with blue -eyes, and a general and genial sunshiny smile in his face. - -'And where, now, is she to whom I owe so much--Mademoiselle Palenka?' -asked Cecil in a low voice, when occasion served, and feeling the -necessity, in common politeness at least, to remember the fact of her -existence. - -'She has left the camp,' was the curt response of the count, over -whose face a shade fell for a moment; for some rumours--some -suspicions of his sister's interest in the questioner--must have -reached him, and he knew that the impulsive Margarita was difficult -to control; so Cecil said no more on the subject, and, changing his -place to another part of the noisy and laughing group, became -somewhat silent. - -He had ample food for reflection, certainly. - -It was impossible for him not to think with positive wonder on all -the strange complications that must have arisen had the count, and -those who accompanied him, been but a very little later in coming to -announce that he--Cecil--was free; and that if he had availed himself -of the disguise brought by Ottilie, and reached the appointed spot -where Theodore awaited him with the horses, and too probably -Margarita too (indeed he could not doubt she was there), and had he -taken, with her, that flight which the detection of the deserter's -forgery rendered unnecessary, the whole future of both their lives -must have been changed from that hour; for it was evident that she -had meant to cast her lot with him, and for all she knew or could -foresee, her one life against a censorious world. - -'We must never meet again--I must see her no more!' was his thought -again and again, and he was conscious that the count was looking at -him scrutinisingly from time to time. The usually heedless and -unobservant Pelham detected this, and said to Palenka inquiringly: - -'Why do you look so gravely--so sadly at our friend, with whom you -were laughing but a few minutes ago?' - -'Sadly--do I? Well, sooth to say, I feel somewhat sorry for him.' - -'Why--what the deuce is up now?' - -'I am rather an acute physiognomist,' replied the count, looking down -and affecting to select and manipulate a cigar, 'and think I can -see--can read in his face, by a certain gravity of expression there, -that he will--after all he has escaped--die a violent death.' - -'_A violent death!_' repeated Pelham, with an expression of surprise -in his face; 'from what do you gather this?' - -'I cannot say--a kind of prescience--an intuition of destiny--that I -have no control over; but I have rarely been mistaken.' - -'Well,' replied Pelham, 'I might predict as much about many of us; we -may perhaps be engaged to-morrow, and some that are above the turf -just now, may be under it soon enough.' - -The count gave an inscrutable smile, and began to smoke; and Pelham -was glad only that Cecil--going, as he was so soon to do, on a duty -of some peril--had not overheard a prediction so strange and gloomy -concerning himself. - -'Destiny--prescience--bosh!' thought Pelham; but the count's face and -manner impressed the volatile Englishman, who had only come to fight -in Servia as the means to a 'new sensation.' He became perplexed, -silent, and when Cecil spoke, his voice seemed somehow to stir a -painful chord in the breast of Pelham. - -'A violent death!' - -This strange prophecy gave him some cause to think. Did the count -refer to the chances of war, or that Cecil was fore-doomed -prematurely, and had his destiny--his kismet, like an -Osmanlie--written on his brow? Or was it that he resented, with all -his apparent candour and generosity, some love-passages between his -sister and the late prisoner, and meant to have the latter cut -off?--a matter easily achieved in that lawless land. - -Pelham was restlessly uneasy on the subject, and sat reflectively -sucking at his briar-root in silence, till the bugles sounded for -lights and fires out--for silence in camp, and all retired to their -tents or huts. - -At midnight, punctually, Cecil, cloaked and armed, rode to the -headquarters of Tchernaieff, in front of which he found his troop -mounted, and a sergeant calling the roll by lantern-light, the rays -of which fell feebly on the dark faces and darker uniforms of the -Servian troopers, who were all in light marching order, without -valises or other encumbrance, save forage-nets, sponge-bags and spare -shoes. By lantern-light he opened the ranks and inspected them; the -pistols and carbines were loaded. From Palenka he got a written -memorandum of the path or route he was to pursue, though much was -left to his own discretion. - -The party, consisting of twenty sabres, broke into sections of fours. - -'_Shagoum-marche!_' (walk-march) was the first command, and they got -into motion. - -'_Rishu!_' (trot) cried Cecil, and away they went, and quickly left -the camp behind them, looking somewhat ghost-like amid the starless -gloom, as they glided noiselessly over the soft turf, on which, as -yet, the hoofs of their horses made no sound. - - - - -CHAPTER XII. - -THE RECONNAISSANCE. - -Young soldier though he was in some respects, Cecil knew well the -importance of the duty assigned to him, and the great circumspection -requisite in the mode of executing it; all the more as Circassian and -Egyptian cavalry had been but recently heard of in the vicinity of -Rajouz, a village about five miles from Deligrad. - -Whatever Cecil did, he usually gave his heart to; and he was doubly -anxious to prove himself worthy of the renewed trust and faith -reposed in him by Tchernaieff, and to stifle the qualms of disgust he -had begun to feel for the Servian service, and which usually rise, -sooner or later, in the heart of every Briton at any foreign service, -and which was the more likely to influence Cecil by the memory of -late events. - -As his party rode on at a leisurely walk, after quitting the vicinity -of the camp, the hoofs tramping out the rich odours of the fallen -leaves and aromatic plants, he gave strict orders that there was to -be no smoking (lest lights, even so small, were seen), and that there -must be no talking or singing--that utter silence must pervade every -movement. - -His party had food for three days; thus he halted and fed the horses -at every two leagues, so that they should always be fresh and fit for -duty, taking care to halt in thickets, or at a distance from all -roads, and using every precaution to preclude surprise while the -feeding was in process, and the horses consequently unbitted. - -He was furnished with a guide, whom, however, he kept ignorant of the -route indicated to him by Tchernaieff--the line of country towards -the Timok river. - -He knew, too, that an officer, be his rank what it may, can never, -with honour, decline the perilous duty of a reconnaissance, as the -honour is amply made up by the importance of the expedition, which -frequently proves of the utmost consequence in the operations of the -future. - -Thus, when day began to dawn, and he found himself traversing the -fields and forest lands on the eastern slopes of Mount Mezlanie, -while moving with the utmost care and circumspection, with two -advanced troopers some distance in front, riding each with loaded -carbine on thigh, he began his notes and task of surveying, by -minutely examining the face of the country, the hollows and vales, -whether stony or swampy; the grass and the watercourses; the line of -the principal roads, their turnings, breadth, and capability for the -passage of artillery; the situation of farmhouses or villages, and -their capabilities for defence; the bridges, etc.--and all the -memoranda thereon he extended and corrected during the halts for -refreshing the men and horses. - -Particularly had he to note where grass, hay, and corn could be -procured, in case of an advance in that direction; with the proper -ground for camps, with fuel and water in the vicinity, and so forth, -omitting nothing that might prove of value to his leaders. And in -this new species of employment the first day passed without event, -and the approach of evening found his party preparing to halt for the -night in a thicket of oaks and pines, under the shadow of some lofty -and impending precipices, the fronts of which glared redly in the -western light, above the deep green of the forest trees. - -A line of silvery haze, exhaled by the evening sun, winding among -them, indicated the course of the Timok river, which descends from -the south side of Mount Haiduchki, of the Balkan chain in Servia, and -flows along the confines of Bulgaria till it reaches the Danube. So -the river was almost in sight, and as yet neither Cecil nor his -troopers had 'felt' the Circassian or Egyptian cavalry; and -everywhere the country seemed quiet, the peasantry attending in peace -to their agricultural avocations. - -Near the halting-place lay a deep pool surrounded by cedars and -pines; rich boughs drooped into its water, on which the snow-white -lilies floated, and there the horses were unbitted, and they and -their riders drank thirstily. - -By dawn next day all were in their saddles again, and the -reconnaissance was resumed. - -Sharply observant, though naturally unsuspicious, Cecil had, ere -this, begun to remark that an armed peasant, with a large black -beard--but all men were armed there, and then especially--who had -questioned the advanced file of men and obtained from them a light -for his pipe--appeared to dodge or watch his party, which rode at an -easy pace, and from time to time he saw this peasant appearing on the -crest of one slope, as they began to descend another. - -Disliking this, he sent a corporal back at a trot to question this -fellow and demand his object or purpose; but the latter eluded this -by disappearing in a thicket, only, as it eventually proved, to -follow still, but unseen and more warily. - -As the road traversed one of those warm valleys where, in Servia, the -cotton-plant is raised in great quantities, and where the plantations -present so pleasing an appearance, the glossy dark green leaves -contrasting so finely with the white globular flowers scattered over -the tree, Cecil's party overtook three mounted persons--a man and two -females--who, after a consultation among themselves apparently, -checked their horses to let his troopers come up with them. - -As they drew near them, Cecil felt his pulse quicken. There was no -mistaking the brown habit faced with scarlet, the smart hat and white -ostrich feather, and the graceful figure of the wearer, or the -old-dragoon seat of her male attendant. For here was Margarita, -accompanied by old Theodore, and the third mounted personage was the -pretty Ottilie. - -'Margarita again--and here! By Jove! there _is_ some fatality in all -this!' thought Cecil; and he spurred in advance of his party, and -joined the trio, two of whom at once reined their horses back; and -one of them, Ottilie, coloured very deeply, for she was not ignorant -of the grotesque rumours that had been current concerning the -disguise in which she had been found. - -'You here, Herr Lieutenant!' exclaimed Margarita, with genuine -surprise, while placing her whip in her bridle-hand, she presented -the other to Cecil; 'here northward of Mount Mezlanie?' - -'I am reconnoitring--and you?' - -'Am _en route_ for Palenka; then via Belgrade for Vienna.' - -If she thought to interest him by this intelligence she failed, for -he said: - -'I am glad to hear that you are leaving this district, for we know -not which way the tide of war may roll: and the fact of your being -here without an escort is most rash, as patrols of Circassian and -Egyptian horse have been seen between the Timok and the Morava!' - -'We are now within ten miles of Palenka, and have seen nothing as yet -to alarm us,' she replied. - -Palenka was in a safe district; but who could count on what might lie -between? Why should he not escort her so far, when he was free to do -so, as his command was a roving one? and Palenka lay on the west side -of the Timok, and in the district he was to examine. - -Her eyes sparkled and her colour heightened as he announced his -intention; and they rode slowly on together, he the while, with all -the interest that he could not help feeling in her, wishing in his -heart that she was safe in Belgrade, Vienna, or anywhere else than by -his side. - -She thanked him for the proffered escort. - -'Say nothing of that,' said he; 'I owe you so much more than I can -ever repay.' - -'You owe me a debt, I know; yet it might be best adjusted by our -forgetting--as if we had never known--each other.' - -'Margarita, who that has seen and known you will ever forget you?' he -asked, with truth in his voice and eye. - -'Many, I have no doubt.' - -Her manner was somewhat bitter and weary, and from under her long -dark eyelashes she looked at him, from time to time, with a kind of -passionate pain. - -'One fact I shall never forget, at least--that you saved me from -great and deadly peril, by your acumen and superior intelligence.' - -'By my suspicion of Guebhard and general knowledge of his character, -and of what he is capable--say, rather.' - -'And thus you rendered my flight from Deligrad unnecessary.' - -'Yes,' she replied curtly. - -On that point he said no more. She coloured for a moment at his -reference to it, and then became pale again; but paleness was the -normal condition of her face. - -This brilliant woman loved him, and had not cared much to conceal -that she did so. What was he to say to her--what to tell--how to -explain all? It was impossible for him to put in clear, cold words -before her the mortifying fear that he could not--should not love her -in return, because he was affianced--so hopelessly, as he -supposed--to another. - -Could he ask her to take back a heart he certainly had never sought? -It was in every way a perplexing and grotesque situation. - -'You have become very silent,' said she, in a tone of pique, while -switching, and then checking her horse. 'Of what are you thinking?' - -'That if some of those wild Circassians, of whom I have been told, -were only to appear now----' - -'Heaven forbid! why?' - -'That I might empty a saddle or two, and risk in your service the -life you saved, and thus make an atonement----' - -'I want no such risk run; and what,' she asked a little sharply, 'do -you mean by atonement?' - -'Only this, that you saved my life, Margarita, and may claim its -whole future, if you will,' said he, while Mary's face came -reproachfully to memory, for the speech was disloyalty to her, -however gallantly meant to Margarita, whom the peculiarity of its -tenor irritated rather than flattered. - -'This is an idle speech, and I know its value. I thank you for your -escort, but we shall part at Palenka, and as another day will see me -on the road for Vienna, we shall never meet again; and you may become -to me, what I shall never be to you--a dream, without pain perhaps.' - -This was one of her many strange and passionate speeches, his general -or vague replies to which always piqued her. - -'Youth and pleasure are a dream,' said he. - -'And life itself, say some.' - -'But these metaphysicians do not tell us where or how we shall wake -to find it so--unless in death.' - -'Enough of a subject so gloomy and abstruse,' said she sharply, for -Cecil's strange indifference galled and piqued her keenly. - -Though a fashionably-bred woman, and as a girl accustomed to the best -society in Vienna, in wild Servia she was certainly rather -untrammelled by the bonds of conventionality. Her life from young -girlhood had been full of gaiety, variety, vivid colour, and very -rational pleasure. She had been the object of much adulation, -admiration, and love, too; she had been amused or bored by all, but -won by none till now, when Cecil, the wanderer, the soldier of -fortune, with no inheritance but his sword, had won her regard -without seeking it. - -She was assured now--bitterly so--that he would never kneel to her as -a lover; yet she was loth that he should ever free himself from the -power of her fascinations, if she could make him feel it. Fain would -she have won that heart which seemed so fresh and guileless, so -unlike any she had yet met--so unworn and prone to have good faith in -all men. - -There was a certain languor and then occasional fiery carelessness in -Margarita that must have come to her with the blood of the old heyduc -of Palenka, and his bride--some odalisque, perhaps, won by the edge -of his sabre amid the plunder of a pasha's household, and hers was -the disposition, the passion and the situation, that so often lead to -blind and bitter hatred, ending in crime and sorrow. - -She knew the power of her beauty over all men, and she knew also the -claim for special gratitude over this loyal, dauntless, and grateful -heart, and hoped that she knew how to use both; thus many a time she -looked at him with her bright, languid eyes, the colour of which was -often difficult to define, with an expression which seemed to say: - -'I saved your life and honour--therefore you ought to belong to me, -and to no one else!' - -And Cecil found it impossible to deny, even to himself, the knowledge -and certainty that this woman, so dazzlingly fair that few women ever -saw her without jealousy, and fewer men without admiration or -passion, had been ready--and was now ready--to risk shame, suffering -or danger, and fly with him, seeking obscurity and exile in Bulgaria -or anywhere else. - -'Was ever man more tempted!' thought he, as he saw--with -satisfaction--the gilded vanes and cupolas of Palenka glittering in -the sunshine above the green-wooded bank of the Morava, and he reined -up his horse to bid her farewell. - -'You will surely ride up to Palenka, and bid mamma adieu?' she said, -her eyes dilating with reproach. - -'To visit Palenka, or anywhere else, is inconsistent with my duty; -and the count your brother viewed my sojourn there with unconcealed -displeasure.' - -'As you please,' said she, coldly. Then, after a pause, she added, -'We have resolved to leave Servia, mamma and I, for a time--my -brother wishes us to do so.' - -'I would fain see you once again,' said he, with an access of -tenderness, suited, however, to the occasion; 'but it may not be. -To-night I shall halt in the wood near Tjuprija, and to-morrow go -back on the spur to Deligrad.' - -'The wood near Tjuprija--that is close at hand; so if we who have -been so strangely thrown together are parted to meet no more in the -future, and you would care to see me once again--just once--at noon -to-morrow be by the wayside chapel on the rocks above the ruin--the -chapel of Lazar--and--' she paused, as a spasm of pain made her proud -and beautiful face quiver, 'and I shall be there.' - -'At noon, then, to-morrow,' said he, bending over her gauntleted hand -and kissing it, after which she rode off at a quick pace, followed by -her two attendants, while Cecil fell back and rejoined his troopers, -who made all haste to put out and hide the pipes in which they -had--in defiance of orders--been indulging during his recent -preoccupation in front of them. - -At the same time a man--the bearded peasant before-mentioned--who had -been concealed among some laurel-bushes, and had overheard the -parting, crept stealthily away, with an expression on his face that -would have startled Cecil had he seen it. - -'To what end, or to what useful or wise purpose, under all the -circumstances, can this assignation be? and in such a lonely place?' -he thought. 'But what could I say--how decline the last request of -one to whom I owe so much?' - -Yet he wished it all well over, and anticipated, with genuine British -dismay, something of a painful scene. - - -The night was passed by his troopers peacefully in the solitude of -the wood referred to, under the stars. Morning came in bright with -ruddy sunshine, and after such a humble repast as soldiers prepare -under such circumstances, Cecil ordered them to unbit and unsaddle -their horses, groom them, and re-examine all their ammunition--not -all at once, but by fours at a time--and after patrolling the woods -in the vicinity, and finding all quiet, he halted them again in the -wood, and set forth to keep his appointment at the chapel, which was -on a rocky steep about a mile from it. - -He crossed the Morava by an ancient bridge, supposed to be the work -of Roman hands, and began to ascend the steep and rocky bank that -overhung it, till he overlooked the windings of the river and the -woods that half-concealed them, and attained the summit of a species -of pass in which stood the wayside chapel--merely a rough species of -altar, whereon was painted a rude and half-defaced effigy, surmounted -by a projecting pediment or roof of red tiles. - -Masses of wild vines flourished in luxuriance all around it, with -other creepers, and from amid these there peered grotesquely -forth--with its metal halo sorely faded--the effigy, which was -supposed to represent the Servian _Krall_, Lazar, who was taken -prisoner in the last great battle on the plains of Kossava (which -ended in the subjugation of Servia), and whose relics, after his -murder in the camp of the Sultan Amurath, have wrought so many -miracles, according to the superstition of his country, and now lie -in the monastery of Ravenitza, which he founded; but Cecil thought -nothing of all this, and probably knew nothing about it, as he looked -about him anxiously and in haste for Margarita. - -It was past the time of noon now; but she was not there. A sheer -cliff of vast height, the base of which could not be seen, descended -on one side; on the other was the narrow walk by which he had mounted -to the wayside chapel. - -He heard no sound but the voices of the birds, and he looked in vain -for her figure--her drapery floating between the stems of the trees. - -Why had she failed to keep her tryst? a kind of keen disappointment -occurred to him now; he looked at his watch again. Time was long -past now, and he thought of his troopers and the homeward march to -Deligrad! - -Then, as he looked about him, his eye fell on two objects that gave -him a shock, a bracelet and a handkerchief. The former lay imbedded -in the turf, as if trod upon; the other fluttered on the stem of a -wild vine. - -He took up the former, a Turkish rose-pearl bracelet, which he -remembered to have seen Margarita wear; so she must have come to the -meeting-place and lost it. But why had she come and gone so soon? - -The handkerchief, a white silk one, he examined, and on a corner -thereof saw the name of 'Mattei Guebhard.' - -Guebhard--then he too had been there; had in some way anticipated -him! And now he saw that all the turf about the narrow path bore the -indentations of feet, as if a struggle had taken place, and a great -horror of--he knew not what--fell upon the heart of Cecil. - -He thought of the Circassian and Egyptian patrols, who were said to -be scouting between the Morava and the Timok, but he thought not of -the peasant who had dogged his party yesterday. - -Had Guebhard succeeded in carrying her off--in abducting her beyond -the Turkish lines? If so, in these days of Bulgarian atrocities, -Cecil could but fear the worst, and his heart died within him as he -returned, slowly and reluctantly, and with many a backward glance, to -the road, where his troopers awaited him. - -There was no time given him for inquiry, no time for further delay, -and at a rapid trot the homeward march began. - - - - -CHAPTER XIII. - -THE WAYSIDE CHAPEL. - -On the morning of the same day, Margarita was surprised to receive a -note, purporting to be from Cecil, whose handwriting she had never -seen, requesting her to be at the wayside chapel of Krall Lazar two -hours before noon, as the exigencies of the service required his -presence elsewhere at the time formerly appointed. - -This note had been give to Theodore by a man attired like a peasant, -who promptly disappeared. - -'Sooner than noon!' thought Margarita; 'perhaps he is impatient to -see me. He does love me--he must love me. But perhaps some dread of -Palenka fetters his tongue; or can it be--but let me not think -_that_!' - -Never had Ottilie found her mistress more difficult to please in the -mode of dressing her beautiful hair, than on the morning of this day, -in the selection of a costume and the choice of colours; but at last -she was attired to her own satisfaction, and when the time came, left -Palenka by a garden-gate, and took the path that led to the wayside -chapel, or altar, for, though named the former, it had rather the -character of being the latter only. - -Like Cecil, she, with all her hopes and wishes, had more than once -questioned herself as to the end or utility of this meeting which it -had been--she felt it--so unwomanly in her to invite. - -She could not yet bear the idea that he should pass out of her life, -or he out of hers. She dreaded an unknown rival, as she had never -been baffled before; and over that rival, if such existed, she hoped -in the end to triumph by the power of her beauty and fascination of -manner, and to win him, without pity, to herself; and, full of such -thoughts, she trod lightly the steep and winding way that led to the -shrine of Krall Lazar, and softly sang to herself the little Servian -song of 'The Wishes,' which elsewhere she had sung to Cecil. - -The morning was a glorious one, and in the poetry of her nature -Margarita felt all the softening and exhilarating influences of it. -The heavy fragrance of the great fir forest, on which the night-dew -lingered, loaded the air, and the rays of the sun fell aslant them -here and there, through the flat and fan-like boughs, from which the -great, over-ripe cones, brown and full of seed, were dropping ever -and anon. - -A sea of pines, dark-green and sombre, seemed to spread in spiky -conical peaks up the steep mountain-slopes, as she proceeded by the -narrow pathway to the appointed place, her heart beating hopefully -and happily in anticipation. - -At last she reached the vine-covered shrine; it stood alone; no one -was there. - -'Cecil!' she said softly, and listened. - -Then came a sound as of branches crackling, and a man clad like a -Servian peasant started from behind the edifice and stood before her; -but through the disguise, now minus the beard, and with close-shaven -chin and well-trimmed black moustache, she knew the pale face -of--Mattei Guebhard! - -'You here?' exclaimed Margarita, shrinking back. - -'Yes, I,' said he, grimly; 'you got a note----' - -'From--from the Herr Lieutenant.' - -'No; from _me_.' - -'You?' - -'In his name,' said Guebhard, laughing softly; 'could I have lured -you here, else?' - -'Decidedly not,' she replied, with perplexity and anger. 'But how -knew you that I was to be here?' - -'Every movement of yours is known to me.' - -'And your purpose?' asked Margarita. - -'I scarcely know--punishment--revenge!' he replied, incoherently and -a a little wildly. - -As he surveyed her now he saw not a vestige of her soft, persuasive, -and caressing manner, or the witchery of her sovereign smile. Her -face expressed only deep anger, profound disdain, and utter -indifference by turns; yet he attempted to take her hand, but she -wrenched it away and waved him back, with a grandeur of gesture that -compelled him to obey, while her eyes flashed with unspoken -indignation. - -It was at this moment that the rose-pearl bracelet fell from her -wrist, but both were too preoccupied to observe it. - -'You visited the English cur in his prison?' said he, after a pause. - -'Who told you so?' - -'Heed not who told me so--suffice it that I know you did.' - -'What then? Am I accountable to you for my actions?' - -'This morning you are.' - -'Fool--you forget yourself!' - -Guebhard looked into her cool and defiant face, and read but too -plainly an expression of hatred in her beautiful eyes. He saw the -curl of careless scorn on her sweet red lips, and a sigh of rage -escaped him, though for a moment--but a moment only--his eyes sought -hers with an anguish of entreaty. - -'Perjurer and deserter!' said she defiantly and bitterly; 'the -soldier who is false to his colours--the man who is false to his -country--is beneath rebuke; but not beneath vengeance.' - -'You saved the man's life on one hand,' said he, hoarsely; 'on the -other, you exposed me, compelling me to anticipate an old intention -of joining the Turkish standard, which must prevail here and -elsewhere. You saved his life and won his gratitude and love; but -neither will avail, for by the God who hears us, you shall never see -him more!' - -'Who will separate us?' - -'I shall!' - -'Stand aside, Captain Guebhard!' said she haughtily, and now dreading -every moment to hear the step of Cecil ascending the path; 'stand -aside--from this day you and I must be to each other as the dead.' - -'As the dead--yes--be it so. I know you hate me now--though once you -did not do so.' - -'I never even valued you as a friend, though you flattered yourself -that you stood even higher than a friend in my estimation; and now as -a deserter from the Servian cause----' - -'I am more Bulgarian than Servian in my blood, perhaps more Italian -than either,' said he, hotly. 'Milano omitted to give me the cross, -though I had won it in our first battle, so I have assumed the -crescent in its place; that is all--and the crescent will prevail in -the end.' - -'Never! we shall live to see the crescent thrust into Asia or the -sea; but as I did not come here to talk politics, I have the honour -to wish you good-morning, Captain Guebhard, and trust that our -comedietta is over.' - -'It is a tragedy, as you may find,' was the grim and menacing -response. - -'What do you mean, sir?' - -'Simply what I say.' - -'Insolent! But I fear you will never make your fortune as a Romeo.' - -Oaths never rose to the lips of Guebhard; he was--though a finished -villain--too polished a man to indulge in such: but terrible was the -hatred that baffled passion was now raising in his lawless breast. A -dark and angry red shot for a moment across his usually pallid face, -and his eyes gleamed with a vindictiveness of expression that made -the heart of Margarita throb wildly, and with sudden apprehension; -but she could not pass him. - -Behind her was a precipice, and before her--barred by him--lay the -path which she must descend to elude him. - -Like a heroine, who is described in a recent novel, 'she knew well -enough that forgetfulness was a treasure for evermore beyond the -reach of those who once loved her.' Guebhard had loved her, she -knew, and this love had well-nigh maddened him--and now Guebhard, in -his tiger-like nature, was beginning to hate her--nay, hated her -already! - -He grasped her delicate wrist with a force she could not withstand. - -'Listen to me,' said he, with calm yet sad ferocity in his tone and -eyes; 'I am not the first, among many, whom your beauty and your -wiles have fooled and beguiled--for few women have had such -Circe-like power as you--but I shall be the last on whose face you -will look.' - -'What do you mean?' she asked, in a low and agitated voice. - -'That you will soon learn--come here,' he continued, hoarsely; -'here--and look down,' he added, dragging her to the giddy verge of -the beetling cliff, at the base of which, spread out like a map, was -the woody landscape stretching away towards Katadar, with the Morava -winding through it like a silver snake. - -'Have pity, Guebhard!' exclaimed Margarita, shrinking back, while a -mortal terror seized her now, for the expression of his eyes froze -her heart. - -'Pity--it is too late--too late!' he replied, yet with something like -a sob in his throat. - -'Forgiveness is saint-like, Guebhard,' she urged piteously. - -'But I am no saint, Margarita--I am only a humble mortal.' - -'Mortal or not--man or devil--why have I to seek forgiveness of -_you_?' she exclaimed, as a gust of indignation and pride came to her -aid, and she strove to break away from him; but finding that all her -efforts were vain, and that he was too strong for her, she shrieked -out wildly, 'Cecil! Cecil!' - -The name seemed to madden him. Stung to frenzy, he drew a pistol -from his belt; but replaced it, and grasped his yataghan; that, too, -he declined to use, lest it might elicit a shriek again and bring -succour, for with all his frenzy, there was a method in his madness, -and his next thought was--strangulation! - -The proud and lovely neck she would not have permitted him to kiss -was now to feel the tiger-like clutch of his long, lean and felon -fingers, as they closed round her snow-white throat. - -'Mercy, Guebhard--mercy!' she gasped; 'I am too young--too -young--perhaps too wicked--to die!' - -Fate was upon her, and Guebhard was no longer a reasoning being. -There were tears in her starting and bloodshot eyes, and clamorous -fury gathered in Guebhard's heart, while his infernal gripe grew -closer; her arms fell powerless by her side--he felt the tumultuous -heavings of her bosom against his own. Sense had not left her; she -could not doubt the desperate character of his attack, and though she -ceased to struggle, her eyes spoke, and with such a language that -Guebhard dared not look on them again--they seemed so mournfully to -implore his mercy--but his heart, blazing with the insensate hate -that springs from baffled love, knew none! - -In vain; his gripe grew tighter upon her delicate throat, that was -all symmetry and whiteness: a terrible spasm convulsed her frame; -then he knew that all was over, that she was dead in his hands, and -daring no more to look upon her, he flung her over the awful cliff -close by; and that he might not hear the sound, if any, that came -from below, he sank on his knees, and covered his ears with his hot -tremulous hands. So perished Margarita! - -Her death was not the first that lay on Guebhard's soul, no doubt; -but, for a minute, he scarcely seemed to breathe, and his wild -glaring eyes seemed to wander stealthily in the air, in the woods, -and on the ground beneath him, as if to avoid the last glance of -appealing despair, that seemed to confront him everywhere now. - -The leaves of the trees seemed to become eyes--then tongues that -whispered, he knew not what. - -'Margarita!' said he involuntarily, and, to his overstrained fancy, a -thousand echoes seemed to give back the name of the dead--the dead -girl that, though mangled and lying far down below, was not yet cold. - -'Margarita!' he said again, but in a lower voice, the name breaking -from him in the instinct of the awful time, rather than in conscious -utterance. - -Suddenly the sound of approaching footsteps met his ear. A man was -ascending the pathway to the shrine, and Guebhard, who, in the agony -and frenzy of the time, had forgotten all about Cecil--for it was he -who was coming--dashed into the copse-wood and fled from the spot -like a hunted hare, seeking the gloomiest spots with that loathing of -the light which it has been averred some murderers feel. - - - - -CHAPTER XIV. - -THE BATTLE OF ZAITCHAR. - -'How misfortune seems to dog me, and all in whom I have ever had a -passing interest or regard!' thought Cecil, as he rode on in rear of -his returning party, and recalled the words of Antonio: - - 'I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano; - A stage, where every man must play a part, - And mine a _sad one_.' - - -His thoughts went backward over the few but ever-varying years of his -own life; his wanderings with his mother in Italy and elsewhere; his -service in India, so full of adventure, change, peril and vivid -colour; marches over dusty and arid plains, and through desert -jungles, where luxuriant vegetation had run riot for ages; the -pleasures of cities; the careless times in camp and barrack, with -Leslie Fotheringhame, Dick Freeport, Acharn and others; pig-sticking -and fighting wild hill tribes; of long balmy nights on the starlit -Indian or Arabian seas, while the crowded transport ploughed on with -her living freight; the good fellowship of the splendid mess; the -love of his men, and though remembered last, perhaps, not least, -honest Tommy Atkins, with the proffer of his savings; of all that had -been, and never could be again; of gay nights and balls; and, last of -all, the ball that ruined him; of Mary Montgomerie, and all the loss -of her meant to him; and again his thoughts would revert to -Margarita, and to what had been--what could be now, her fate! - -Into that fate--if, as it seemed too probable, some tragedy or -catastrophe had happened--he had neither time nor opportunity given -him to inquire. - -What could have come over her? was his ever-recurring thought. -Surely--even in that land of atrocities--Heaven would be too merciful -to let a hair of her head be injured, she was so good and pure, so -proud and true to herself and all. - -Betimes he rode into Deligrad, where the tricolour waved on the armed -rampart, and the busy camp, with its streets of tents and huts, still -covered all the ground beside the Morava. - -He proceeded straight to the winter quarters of the staff, circular -huts formed of logs, planked and plastered with mud externally, and -thatched with straw and reeds, and in one of these miserable abodes, -before which two sentinels paced, he found Tchernaieff and a couple -of officers, in rich Russian uniforms, smoking cigars, and making -themselves as comfortable as they could under the circumstances. - -He presented his papers, sketches and memoranda, and made his report -as to finding all the country quiet, and seeing nothing of the -enemy's scouting or patrol parties; and was warmly complimented by -the grim old Muscovite, who shook him by the hand and presented him -with an acceptable bumper of wine, saying the while, 'Deo Gratios!' -and signing the cross in the Russian fashion, with three fingers from -right to left. - -'I sent you again on a perilous and important duty into a strange -country,' said Tchernaieff, 'and you accepted the hazard as readily -as you have performed that duty.' - -'I am not used to weigh hazards or danger, excellency,' replied -Cecil; 'I am the native of a country that never nurtured fools or -cowards, and now have my home here.' - -'In every land brave men find a home; and for these memoranda I thank -you, for I have to send troops through that very district towards -Zaitchar. But you have run greater risks than you are aware of, for -Circassian troops were concealed in some of the woods through which -you passed.' - -Cecil thought of the disappearance of Margarita, and the evidence of -the deserter Guebhard's presence at the Krall Lazar; but he only -replied: - -'I have not set much store on my life, since I came to Servia, at -least. Besides, general--of what need was thought--I had your orders -to obey--the King to serve.' - -'Right; and now, good-morning, Captain Falconer.' - -It was so; Cecil found that he had been made captain of his troop, -and was warmly congratulated on this unexpected promotion by his -English comrades Pelham and Stanley, whose society he preferred to -all others in camp, and the former said laughingly to the latter, -whom he had taken into his confidence: - -'Either the count is--as I hope--a false prophet, or Falconer's fated -time is not come yet; he has returned scatheless from this duty, at -all events.' - -The field was soon to be taken by a portion, if not by all the army; -more fighting was to be seen, and Cecil, in the overcharged state of -his mind, welcomed the chance of new excitement with a strange -species of grim joy. - -But now came tidings that, when returning for the headquarters of -General Dochtouroff, Count Palenka had fallen into the hands of a -Circassian patrol, been made prisoner, and carried, whether to death -or captivity, none knew; so that he, anyway, was ignorant of the -crime, or catastrophe, that had darkened his home. - -At this time, some twelve battalions of Turks occupied the town of -Zaitchar, which lies seventy miles north-eastward of Deligrad, on the -river Timok, and in the attack on which, on the 18th of the preceding -July, Colonel Kireef, one of the bravest officers of the Russian -army, fell, after receiving four wounds in succession. - -This position was now watched by only a brigade of Servians, under -Colonel Medvidovski, a young officer concerning whose movements and -rashness Tchernaieff became apprehensive; thus he desired General -Dochtouroff to repair to that place for the purpose of aiding the -colonel with his advice and experience, and soon after he reinforced -him by a few Servians, among whom was Cecil's troop of cavalry, which -was ordered to proceed by the Bovan Pass, up which his troopers -toiled slowly in an autumn evening, and from the summit of which a -vast expanse of woody country could be seen, wearing all the varied -tints of the season. A twelve miles march brought him to Banja, -where he halted for a time, and then resumed his route over the -mountains, by a path sometimes so narrow that he had to reduce his -sections of fours to files, but all pushed on unwearyingly and full -of enthusiasm, as a battle in the vicinity of Zaitchar was -confidently anticipated. - -In the ranks of the army against which they were marching now was, no -doubt, his bitter enemy, Mattei Guebhard, commissioned and with rank, -probably, because of his defection, and Cecil knew that in close -quarters the rascal, if possible, would be sure to seek him out. - -'Well,' thought he, 'he is right welcome to do so;' aware that if -once he got Mattei Guebhard covered by his pistol or within reach of -his sword it would go hard with him if one red fez was not struck to -the dust. - -The smoke of burning hamlets, which had fallen a prey to bands of -Bashi Bazouks, curled up here and there through the russet, green and -yellow of the woods, on either side of the line of march, indicating -the close approach to the vicinity of the enemy, whose troops were -mustering near the Timok, after crossing which, by a wooden bridge, -Cecil could see the white-walled houses of Zaitchar shining in the -sun; but from thence he had to proceed, by marching in the night, -into the valley of Krivovirski Timok, where he overtook the troops -under General Dochtouroff, to whom he instantly reported himself, and -Colonel Medvidovski, pushing on for the great business of the day. - -The cavalry cloaks were rolled up and buckled to the saddles, girths -and bridle reins carefully inspected, the edges of the swords tested, -and the loading of all revolvers and carbines looked to. - -A drizzling rain had fallen overnight, and a dim, silvery haze was -floating up from the dark woodlands and the deep valley through which -the Timok was rolling away to meet the Danube, and the occasional -boom of a heavy gun pealing through the murky morning air, followed -now and then by a sharp rattle of rifle-muskets, indicated that the -column of Count Keller, who was acting in concert with Dochtouroff, -and had already got into action, had been partially repulsed, and was -retiring. - -'Push on!' was the cry on every hand. - -'_Rishu_ (trot), _galloppe!_ (gallop)' were the orders for the -cavalry, and in sections of fours that arm of the service went -quickly to the front, and with loud cheers, though to the infantry -was assigned most of the grim work to be done that day. - -Cecil, in India, and more recently in Servia, had been too often -under fire to feel any novelty in the situation now. Rather -reckless, he had no particular anxiety so far as concerned his own -safety or ultimate escape. He had but one distinct idea: that rather -than be disabled by a wound, and thus rendered helpless, homeless, -and penniless, he would prefer death outright! - -He felt for a time a little tightening of the chest as the hollow -boom of the cannon on the left front became louder and louder; but -even that sensation passed away, and he rode on with much of -indifference, varied at times by that emotion which a true -soldier--especially a soldier of fortune--can never be without--a -desire for distinction and honour. - -The whole scene around him was inspiriting and full of the highest -excitement. Heavily laboured the horses of the artillery to get the -guns and ponderous waggons up the steep ascents that overhung the -river. At each recurring rise the drivers flogged and spurred, and -the gunners pushed behind, or with sinewy hands urged round the -spokes of the wheels; horses stumbled, and traces strained to the -verge of breaking, till the hill crests were won, and the downward -progress began. - -Fifteen thousand Servians and Russians were forming in columns for -the attack, and the bright sheen of bayonets and swords flashing in -the morning sun came out of their sombre masses of brown, grey, and -dark screen. Over the former waved the tricolours of Milano -Obrenovitch; but the black eagle and tricolour of the 'Monarch of the -Snows' were displayed by the latter. - -Zaitchar was to be the centre of the operations, and to maintain that -position were sixteen thousand Turks or more, who had covered it with -earthworks and batteries for three miles in front of the town, -defending it in the form of an arc. - -Many of the Servian regiments were armed with old muzzle-loaders and -smooth-bores, while the blue-clad Turks, whose fezzes in long scarlet -lines dotted out the position, had breechloading Snider rifles and -Krupp cannon; so the two armies were far from being equally matched, -either in appointments or valour. - -Count Keller's column, descending from the mountains on the south -coast, was to co-operate with Dochtouroff against Zaitchar; -Medvidovski's column formed the centre, and other brigades and -columns, led by leaders who have no connection with our story, and -whose barbarous names would only puzzle the reader, made up the force -which menaced the little town of Zaitchar in the form of a -semicircle, at an average radius of seven miles. - -The cracking of rifles and the white spurts of smoke starting up from -fields, green hedges, and other enclosures, indicated the -commencement of the attack, as some companies in skirmishing order -were thrown out on right and left, and then came the thunder of the -Krupp guns from Veliki Izvor, the chief point of the Turkish position. - -In their brown tunics and blue, glengarry-like caps, the Servian -columns were closing steadily up, with loud hoarse cheers and cries; -but louder and higher above them rang the 'Allah-Allah Hu!' of the -more confident and resolute Turkish infantry. - -From a five gun-battery on the right, Herzberg, a skilful officer, -was throwing shells with great precision among the latter, and Cecil -viewed with growing interest a column of Servian infantry deploying -from that point with greater skill and order than he had seen in -Servia before, as it was led by two brave and well-trained British -officers, Pelham and Stanley. Down the hill this column came at a -rush under the fire of the Turkish gunners, who from amid the dim -smoke on Veliki Izvor threw shells thick and fast among them; but the -column was under the shelter of a wood, amid the russet and yellow -foliage of which it disappeared, until it emerged again to open fire -upon the enemy's lines, now almost completely enveloped in smoke, -while the roar of rifle-musketry made the welkin ring. But the -column which had deployed and advanced so well was repulsed by the -Turks, and fell back, disputing every inch of ground; nor could any -effort on the part of Pelham, Stanley, and other officers induce the -soldiers of it to reform and advance again: for the Servians are but -timid men at best. - -Over dead and wounded men and horses, over ground torn, furrowed, and -cut up by bursting shells and artillery wheels, over gouts of blood -and pools of water, the Servians were now falling confusedly back, -after terrible losses, when Dochtouroff gave the order for the -reserve to advance. - -'Up they jumped, without waiting for any second order,' says a -British officer in his narrative, 'and ran with great speed, firing -off their guns and cheering loudly. There was only one fault to be -found with them, and that was that they unfortunately ran and fired -in the wrong direction! In vain Dochtouroff shouted; in vain he -swore, but they only ran the faster. I asked him to allow me to try -and compel them, with the aid of my sword and revolver, to halt, -front, and charge the enemy. "No, no," said he; "they are not worth -wasting powder on. Nothing can stop them, and the day is lost."' - -On all sides now were heard the shrieks and half-stifled groans of -the wounded, the last sobs of the dying, and piteous entreaties for -water or for aid. Faces paled by death and smeared with blood were -everywhere; the green grass, the purple violets of autumn that grew -wild, like the white cups of the arum lilies, were all splashed and -empurpled with the same ghastly tint. The bodies in some places lay -across each other in piles, the swarthy, brown-clad Servian soldier -and the more swarthy Turk, with his red fez and his shining military -buttons, the badge worn by all ranks, from the Sultan to the -drummer-boy. - -By some mistake the Servian artillery were prematurely ordered to -retire, and thus, as the supports had failed, the retreat became -general, and by three in the afternoon the action was over; but ere -this Cecil had been in one or two cavalry charges to check pursuit, -and to do him justice, General Dochtouroff left nothing undone by -personal example and by brief harangues in Servian and Russian to -prevent the retreat from becoming a headlong rout along the Lukova -road. - -Outstripping the _Assakiri Mansurei Mohamediges_, as the regular -infantry of the Turkish army boast themselves to be, some of their -cavalry came on with wonderful _élan_. At one point Cecil got his -squadron to form a front by going threes about, as a corps of Turkish -lancers came on, with swords jangling, accoutrements rattling, and -their green pennons--the holy colour--streaming straight out over -their scarlet fezzes. A sharp, short word of command in Turkish, a -sharper note from a trumpet, the lance-points flashed in the air as -they came down to the charge, and the horses from a rapid trot rushed -on in a wild gallop, and in a moment there was a shock, a crash, and -a wild and terrible _mêlée_. - -Saddles were emptied, and steeds and riders went down on every side; -but Cecil's Servians, despite his fiery example, could make no -impression on the Turks. Resolute in aspect, beetle-browed, -keen-eyed, and hawk-nosed, they come on with heads stooped in full -career, their cries of 'Allah, Allah!' rending the air; and whenever -a Servian, sword in hand, attempted to close, their couched lances -bristled against his arm or his horse's breast; so the former pressed -on, in an invulnerable line, till Cecil's troopers fairly gave way, -and quitted the field on the spur with bridles loose, sweeping him -away with them, for Servian courage and Servian honour were sorely -tarnished on that day in front of Zaitchar; nor did the cavalry and -other fugitives fairly stop till they reached a place called -Balgivac, some thirteen miles from the field of battle, where -Medvidovski and his staff had halted. - -Dispirited and disgusted with the result of the day--not that he had -any vital interest in it--but, wet, cold, weary and exhausted, Cecil -flung himself on the bare earth, like nearly all around him, without -food or rations of any kind; and thus he was found by Stanley, Pelham -and another English volunteer, who shared his brandy-flask with them -all, and they spent the remainder of the night in comparing notes of -the past day's heartless work, reviling the Servians, their want of -mettle and discipline, and drawing comparisons between them and 'our -own fellows,' that were far from flattering to the troops of His -Majesty King Milano Obrenovitch. - - - - -CHAPTER XV. - -A RIDE FOR LIFE OR DEATH! - -Cecil's troop, which had lost heavily in the encounter with the -Turkish lancers, escorted some of the wounded and sick to the camp at -Deligrad, passing through a beautiful valley, and skirting the slopes -of Mount Urtanj, one of the greatest hills in Servia. The way was of -the roughest and steepest kind; his progress was slow, with a convoy -of blood-stained, tattered and dying creatures. It was a march he -never forgot, and from one circumstance, perhaps, more than all. He -met _en route_ the old village pope (or priest) of Palenka, mounted -on one of the shaggy, hardy little ponies, and from him--amid many an -exclamation of lamentation, sorrow and anathema--he learned distinct -tidings of the fate of Margarita, and that her remains had been found -by some woodcutters at the base of the cliff below the Krall Lazar -chapel, and a storm of terrible emotion swelled up in Cecil's heart, -as he listened to the broken accents of the priest. Great was his -horror and great his pity! He forgot all the vengeance he personally -owed Guebhard in this new, unthought-of and more terrible debt, and -sadly and touchingly the rare beauty of the dead girl and her -devotion to himself came back to memory now! - -Full of thought that could take no coherent form in words, he rode on -as one in a dream, and almost oblivious now of all around him; of the -sufferings of those who formed his miserable convoy; of the dark -blood dripping through the straw, from half-dressed wounds, that -burst out afresh; of the groans and cries elicited by every jolt of -the clumsy ambulance waggons; of the monotonous rumbling of the -wheels that shook and jarred against ruts and stones; even of the -deaths that were occurring from time to time, leaving the dead and -the living side by side, while the forest birds of prey hovered over -his sorrowful line of march, and followed it, in anticipation of a -banquet. - -He thought of Margarita, who, he felt assured, had perished thus -awfully through her love for himself, and through the assignation -made at the way-side chapel--an assignation of which Guebhard -must--by some unaccountable means--have become cognisant; and then he -thought of Guebhard, the half Bulgarian, and sighed in fury through -his clenched teeth--'Oh, to be near Guebhard, but for a minute!' - -But the latter was nearer him then he could well have imagined. - -For food and rest, and to have his wounded attended to, and the dead -taken from amid the living to a place of interment, he halted at a -village which was indicated in his 'route,' on the slope of Mount -Mezlani, just as darkness was closing in, and through the net work of -the forest branches the western sky glowed vivid with lurid light, -though darkness had fallen on the valleys far below the mountain -slopes, and a busy time he had of it, with a couple of surgeons, a -staff of soldier-nurses and orderlies, going from waggon to waggon, -and hearing but one reiterated story of suffering, one repeated -chorus of cries, moans and often curses. - -Seeking the only _cafane_ in the place, he dismounted at the door, -had a dish of hot _poprikash_ and black coffee, dashed well with -brandy--of which, as his duty was not yet over, he partook standing, -and was in the act of lighting a cigarette, when a man, dressed like -a Servian peasant, but marvellously well mounted for such, approached -the door, and without quitting his saddle, asked in a low and timid, -or somewhat uncertain voice, for some refreshment. - -The voice of the stranger gave Cecil a species of electric shock, for -'there is no instinct so rapid and so unerring as the instinct of a -foe;' and despite the voluminous dark beard and peasant garb, he -recognised the clearly cut features, the hawk-like nose with delicate -nostrils, and the black beady eyes of Guebhard! - -The voice, the sight, the presence of this man after the awful -narrative of the village pope so recently told, and now acting -suspiciously as a spy in the interests of the enemy, roused Cecil's -blood to fever heat. As a deserter, spy and assassin, this man's -life was trebly forfeited, and Cecil left his seat, slowly and -deliberately to avoid giving alarm, and feeling in his heart a grim -sweetness in the idea that the destroyer of Margarita was to perish -by _his_ hand! - -But, as he moved towards the door of the _cafane_, the light of a -lamp fell upon him, and he was instantly recognised by the renegade, -who remained in his saddle outside an open window. - -Guebhard started violently; a ferocious vindictiveness sparkled in -his eyes; his face grew paler with rage and alarm that were evidently -mingled with a panther-like desire to rush at Cecil. He ground his -teeth; he quivered in every limb; and then, suddenly seized by a -panic of fear, fired three shots from a revolver at Cecil, wheeled -round his horse and galloped away. - -Every shot went wide of its mark, and another moment saw Cecil in his -saddle, in hot pursuit, guided for a time only by the sound of the -flying hoofs. Careless of whither he rode, even if right into the -Turkish lines, he dashed on, goring his horse with sharp rowels at -every bound. - -'Halt, dog and scoundrel!--halt, or die!' he cried again and again. - -Guebhard was now about a hundred yards ahead, but that distance -lessened fast as Cecil tore after him, his pistol levelled twenty -times ere he would risk a shot, as there was no time for reloading, -and the night-clouds were deepening fast. - -They were in full race--pursuer and pursued. Cecil fired two -chambers; but both must have missed, as Guebhard neither winced nor -fell, but fired at random in return. - -'The fiend take him!' was the latter's thought; 'he baulked my -night's work once, and slew my Montenegrin comrade, and I have -already missed him, shot after shot!' - -Without other thought than flight, Guebhard, aware that he was unable -to defend himself now that his pistols were empty, and knowing that -his personal strength and skill with the sword were inferior to those -of Cecil's, spurred wildly on and on, with every respiration tasting -all the bitterness of anticipated death in his coward heart, -expecting every instant to feel a shot pierce his back like a red-hot -bolt and stretch him there to feed the wolves and carrion crows. - -Guebhard, perhaps, was not quite a coward by nature; but somehow the -panic of an utter poltroon possessed him now. Was it the terrible -deed he had done at the chapel of Krall Lazar that unnerved his heart -and unstrung his sinews? It must have been so. The last glance he -had seen in the eyes of Margarita haunted him; and he thought of that -delicate and faultless form lying mangled at the foot of the cliff to -become the prey of vultures and wild animals now, when his own end -seemed so terribly close and nigh, at the hands of her avenger--the -man he had so often wantonly wronged, and who, he knew, would be -pitiless as a famished tiger. - -If he had remorse, it was curiously mingled with an emotion of -jealous triumph, that to this man Margarita was lost for -ever--wrested from him by his hands, as we have said, and that Death -alone was her possessor now! - -'Coward, rein up!--your sword--your sword to mine!' cried Cecil, more -than once; but neither taunt, sneer, nor threat availed him then. - -At this time he felt in his heart much of that emotion which a writer -calls 'the religion of revenge, which had been sacred to his -forefathers, in the age when murderers were proven by bier-right, and -for wrong, the Fiery Cross of war was borne alight over moor and -mountain.' - -Fiercely, high and tumultuously, coursed the blood through his veins. -Every muscle was strained, like those of a race-horse in the field, -for he had an awful penalty to exact, and Guebhard knew well that he -had a terrible debt to pay--one for which not even his life and the -last drop of his blood would atone. - -Yet Guebhard, perhaps, could not have told whether he most loved or -hated the memory of the girl he had destroyed. - -He knew that too probably, if steel and lead failed, if once in the -grasp of Cecil, the latter would trample him to death, choke him like -a viper with a heel upon his throat; and, sooth to say, such was the -terrible idea that occurred to the pursuer at times while, with fiery -exultation, he found himself gaining upon his prey. - -The sweat of a great mortal agony gathered on the temples of -Guebhard; his mouth was parched; his breath came short and fast; and, -half-turning in his saddle, he could see, in the starlight, the white -set face of his pursuer almost within arm's length of him, and the -outstretched head of his horse more than once actually in a line with -his crupper. - -The black beard had fallen off now. - -'How,' thought Cecil; 'how came it to pass that this man, so full of -the common vulgar terror of mere physical peril, ever turned -soldier--even in name!' - -He next thought it was fortunate that, owing to the slowness of the -past day's march, and the short length of it, his horse was tolerably -fresh; but that of Guebhard seemed to be in the same condition. - -He recalled the assassin-like attempts on his own life; his being -tracked in the forest; wellnigh done to death and buried alive; he -recalled the forged document which brought, for a time, dishonour on -him and destruction close indeed; but more than all did he think of -Margarita, done to death so terribly; and Guebhard thought of all -these things as he rode wildly on, and the other as wildly and madly -pursued him. - -He had wrested her from his enemy, and what he had done he would not -have undone even had he the power. Since she would not, and could -not, be his, she was lost to the other--dead!--taken by his hand, and -yet he feared to die! - -Whatever the wretch Guebhard felt when alone was given way to there, -in the darkness, to the full. No spectator or chance visitor--none -of those with whom he had mingled in the Turkish camp--ever saw a -change in the pale, delicate, and immutable face of the destroyer, or -could have detected the dread secret his calm, soft smile concealed. - -He had always feared, however, that sooner or later retribution would -come; that his desertion, if not his other crimes, would find him -out, and strike him down in the hour of fancied security, and -now--now it seemed that the time of fate had come! - -Cecil's last shot had been expended; but as revolver-firing is always -dubious, and in certainty every way inferior to the old single or -double-barrelled pistol, that shot had only grazed the shoulder of -Guebhard, who was next aware that Cecil had drawn his sword, the -steel blade of which glittered blue and grim in the starry light! - -Where were their horses taking them--towards the Morava, or the -valley of the Timok? - -Cecil gave no thought to this, nor cared; down steep pathways, jagged -with rocks; through orchards, more than once; past fields of flax and -Indian corn; past walls laden with vines; past houses and farmsteads, -sunk in darkness and silence; past villages, where pariah dogs barked -and howled at them; through woods, where the interwoven foliage was -dense above, and the late violets grew thick and fragrant below, and -the wild acanthus spread its beautiful leaves. - -Anon, down narrow gorges where the arbutus and laurel overhung the -way; then thundering along the worn pavement of some old Roman road; -now so close that they could hear each other breathing; and anon, a -horse's length asunder, as some obstruction--a laurel root or a vine -tendril--gave momentary hopes to the fugitive. - -Of the way he went in this night ride for death and life--for -retribution and punishment--Cecil had no knowledge and took no heed; -he seemed to follow it, as we follow paths in dreams; yet he did so -unvaryingly, and unswervingly. - -At last the darkness became so intense by the thickness of the -foliage overhead, in a deep and narrow way, that Cecil failed to make -out the figure of the fugitive for a time. - -The sound of their own breathing and that of their horses, with the -crash of the hoofs, alone broke the stillness of the night--of the -world it almost seemed--where all things slept amid the utter -tranquillity that had fallen everywhere. - -They rushed down steeps, where the loose and perilous stones emitted -showers of sparks when struck by the iron hoofs; the necks of their -horses were outstretched like those of racers; their flanks heaved, -and their bridles and breasts were covered with white foam flecks. - -In the gloomy way, under the forest trees, Cecil--we have -said--failed to see the figure of him he pursued--but he could hear -his horse's hoofs crashing on before him, and he followed the sound. -He neared the animal, a grey, closer and closer, as now its speed -seemed to slacken; with a low fierce exclamation, he came abreast of -it, only to find the saddle empty, and the rider--gone! - -But whether the latter had taken his feet out of the stirrups, caught -the branch of a tree and swung himself up into it, or threw himself -off amid some thick underwood and crept quietly and safely away, -Cecil could not determine. But one fact remained; he saw no more of -Guebhard for that night! - -His mortification and disappointment at being suddenly baffled thus, -were extreme; and his disgust was enhanced in no small degree by the -humiliating conviction, that the sooner he was clear of that -identical wooded way the better for himself, as he knew not from what -tree, or clump of underwood he might, at any moment, be covered by -the pistol of Guebhard, lurking in security and unseen. - -Where was he now, and how to find his way back to where he had left -his convoy of ambulance waggons? - -He had noted no land marks--taken no heed of the way he had come. He -had seen before him Guebhard, and Guebhard only! He must have ridden -many miles--how many he knew not, and now his horse was weary and -blown. - -Fortunately for him, his orders were to halt at the village he had -left for the night, and to begin the next day's march at noon, or as -soon after as the wants of the wounded and sick had been attended to; -and steering his way chiefly by the stars, he rode slowly on his -return, with an irritating sense of annoyance, humiliation, and -disquietude, as, for all he knew, he might be close in the vicinity -of the enemy and fall into their hands. - -He rode slowly and warily, and fortune favoured him; about dawn he -found himself near the little town of Kragojeratz, on the right bank -of the river Lepenitza, a tributary of the Morava, and there his -Servian uniform at once procured him a mounted guide to the village -he had left, and from which he was then about twenty miles distant. - - - - -CHAPTER XVI. - -WHAT THE 'TIMES' TOLD. - -Jaded and weary, Cecil began the homeward march, and strange to say, -the effect of the long and revengeful pursuit of Guebhard on his mind -was this: that he felt--if not less resentment and hatred against -that personage--a desire that when condign punishment befell him, it -might come from some other hand than his. - -He felt somewhat soothed by a conviction of the abject terror and -deep humiliation to which he had subjected Guebhard; yet, ever and -anon, the narrative of the village pope gave his heart a pang of -positive pain. - -Again in Deligrad, to him the scene of so much suffering and -unmerited degradation. - -'What am I to do now with the remainder of this life that is left to -me?' he thought, wearily, as he dismounted from his horse, and tossed -the bridle reins to his orderly, leaving his painful convoy now to -the care of the doctors and nurses, though many were there who were -beyond all human care, and would only answer now to the reveille that -would be heard in the unknown land. - -He gladly sought out the log hut shared by Stanley and Pelham, whose -regiment, with many more of the troops lately engaged in the assault -on the Turkish lines at Zaitchar, had now come into cantonments. As -an abode, the hut was nearly as wretched as any of ours in the Crimea. - -The soil of the floor was banked up in the centre and at the sides; -the former acting as the site of a fireplace, the latter for two -beds. Four upright posts driven into the earth and boarded all -round, formed the chimney, and thereon hung swords, revolver cases, -field glasses, flasks, pannikins, etc. - -A few boxes, bullock trunks and bottles full or empty, formed the -furniture, and upon a species of couch improvised from the former and -covered by a bear's skin lay Stanley, in half undress, with a cigar -in his mouth. His figure was tall and slight, and it set off the -dingy brown uniform, more than the latter set off him. He had the -upright military carriage he had won in the Household Brigade; he had -still the suppleness of youth, and eyes that had lost none of their -fine, clear and honest fire of expression. - -He sprang to his feet as Cecil entered and gave him a cheery shout of -welcome. Pelham was on duty, but Stanley duly did the honours of -their mutual abode, and produced from some mysterious receptacle -dishes, glasses, knives, cold ration beef with tomato salad (tomatoes -were plentiful in the camp at Deligrad), bread, wine and a box of -havannas. He bustled about like a frank jolly Englishman as he was -now, and all unlike the _blasé_ frequenter of Belgravian ball-rooms -he had been, and would yet become again; but while listening to -Cecil's exciting account of his race over night, it was evident to -the narrator that he had in his face a preoccupied and perplexed -expression, though rather a bright one. - -'What is up, old fellow?' asked Cecil, who had been observing him -narrowly; 'you seem as if you had something on your mind--something -cheery too. Are you about to quit this work as not very -remunerative?' - -'That I shall no doubt do in time, if some Turkish bullet does not -knock me on the head,' replied Pelham, as he carefully selected a -fresh cigar; 'but I have something in my mind--whether cheery or not, -I cannot say; but finish your meal--fill your glass again, and then -we'll have a talk about it.' - -While Cecil satisfied an appetite the result of much recent exposure -and exercise, Stanley produced a worn, frayed and very tattered copy -of the Times--a copy that was now a month or two old. - -'By Jove! when I look upon this paper, "how the old time comes o'er -me," as Claud Melnotte says,' exclaimed Stanley; 'and Regent Street, -the Row, the clubs with their bow-windows, the parks, the coaching -meet, the collar days at Buckingham Palace--the bank guard, pocketing -the guinea and punishing the port, the West End--how London, one and -all, with its beauties, comforts and luxuries appear in mental -procession, making one long to leave Servia and Servian affairs to -the care of the devil; for the lark is over--the game played out; I -for one have had enough of it, and home is now the place for me!' - -Cecil sighed. - -He had no--_home_! - -'To what is all this the preface?' he asked. - -'To nothing; it is only the expression of my own thoughts; but there -is a notice in the _War Office Gazette_ here--where the deuce--oh, -here it is. I have heard you speak, more than once, quite -incidentally, of the Cameronians.' - -'Likely enough--I knew some of them--once.' - -Cecil winced as he spoke, for Stanley was eyeing him keenly, and then -said: - -'Look here, old fellow, do you know anything of this--this -name--Pelham and I have been puzzling our brains over the -announcement.' - -Cecil took the paper and gave a violent start, with a half suppressed -exclamation, as he read: - - -'CAMERONIANS--The name of the officer, the proceedings of the -court-martial on whom were cancelled, and who was re-gazetted to this -regiment in last week's _Gazette_, is Captain Cecil Falconer -Montgomerie--not Captain Cecil Falconer, as formerly.' - - -'Montgomerie--what can this mean!' said Cecil almost involuntarily, -and feeling intensely perplexed. He was, beyond all description, -startled too, while a great rush of joy and hope mingled in his -heart, with the surprise that possessed him. The notice--the -cancelled proceedings of the court-martial, and the name evidently -referred to himself, but whence came this addition--the surname of -Montgomerie? - -Stanley was watching him silently. Was all this the clue to much -apparent mental suffering, that Pelham and himself had suspected and -seen? Was this the explanation of much in his manner that seemed -reserved and curt, when 'the service' was spoken of, though they both -suspected shrewdly that he had been in it--was 'an army man?' - -'You colour painfully, Cecil, old fellow,' said he, patting him -kindly on the shoulder; 'but, if this gazette refers to you----' - -'It does--it must--but why am I named Montgomerie?' exclaimed Cecil, -impetuously. 'I have the name of Falconer.' - -'You have been in some scrape perhaps--who among us has lived a life -without pain, or who among us has been without reproach?' - -'I have lived a life--latterly at least--that has had much of pain in -it; and if there was any reproach, it was unmerited--all!' - -'I can well believe it, and congratulate you heartily,' exclaimed -Stanley, clasping his passive hand, while Cecil, still as one in a -dream, muttered about the name of 'Montgomerie?' - -'By Jove,' said Stanley, as a sudden light broke upon him; 'I -remember your affair now, and the noise it made at mess-tables. -Well, well--court-martials are not infallible--neither are the Horse -Guards authorities, for the matter of that. I remember when we were -lying in the Wellington Barracks, how a fellow in the -Coldstreams--but have another glass of wine!' - -'Oh, Stanley,' said Cecil, in a broken voice, 'you do not know--and -never, never may you know--what it is, and has been, to live on day -after day, under the cloud that cast a gloom on my life! To bear, -with a dull aching of the heart--to exist under a cloud and -unexplainable shadow, trying by some brilliant act, hoping by -well-done service, to redeem my name in this----' - -'Well--in this devil of a country, to which Pelham and I came, for a -new sensation, in search of a spree, in fact. I know the world, -Cecil--it is a cruel world, even to the strong; and the best of us -get into scrapes with it.' - -'But I got into none--at least, none that I can understand or -explain,' replied Cecil, a little incoherently. - -'Yet you were--were----' - -'Dismissed!' - -'Poor fellow--I remember well; and this notice?' - -'Refers to me--it must--the sentence of dismissal has been cancelled; -though I cannot understand how, or through whom. I thought I had not -a friend in the world--save one,' he added, as he thought of Mary. - -'How did all this cursed evil come about?' - -And Cecil told him all--at least so far as he knew. - -'I see it all, as plain as a pikestaff!' exclaimed Stanley, when the -latter concluded; 'something has turned up--something new come to -light, and they've reinstated you. You were dismissed generally, not -specifically, and so rendered incapable of serving Her Majesty again; -it makes all the difference in the world! Another bumper of wine, to -re-wet the old commission!' - -Cecil drained the glass like one who was sore athirst, for he was -then under considerable mental excitement. - -Restored to his rank and to the old Cameronians--the cloud under -which he had left the service, and which so nearly broke his heart, -dispelled! The proceedings of that most fatal court-martial, which -in his dreams had so often haunted him as a nightmare--cancelled, as -if they had never been; how had all this come to pass, and who was -the guardian angel that had brought it about? - -A fever of impatience possessed him. But he could not yet, with -honour, quit the Servian army, though he had the power of resigning -at any moment. He had no official letter; perhaps the Horse Guards -knew not where he was--and letters, if any, for him, might be at the -bottom of the Morava, as a mishap had befallen the mail; and more -than all, a general action--a great battle, a decisive one for -Servia, was confidently believed to be upon the tapis. - -Then he would think, if it should be all some mysterious mistake, and -this notice referred, by a blunder, to some one else--a mistake, -after all--after all! for he had been so long accustomed to the -frowns of Fortune, that he feared she would never smile upon him -permanently again. - -'By the way, old fellow,' said Stanley, suddenly, 'there is a letter -for you, in the care of Pelham; it may throw some light on all this.' - -'A letter--official?' - -'No.' - -'A letter--from whom?' - -'How should I know?' said Stanley, laughing; 'it is all over -postmarks, anyway. The dragoon bringing the mails from Belgrade was -shot by some Circassians, and fell into the Morava. Some woodman -saved a bag or two, but the letters were nearly destroyed; and here -comes Pelham with yours. We only got duns from London tradesmen, and -laughed as we lit our pipes with them here.' - - - - -CHAPTER XVII. - -MARY'S LETTER. - -Whether he thanked Pelham for what he brought him; how he bade the -former and Stanley adieu, and in what terms he did so, Cecil never -gave thought to, nor did he remember; he was only aware of one fact, -that the letter placed in his hand, crumpled, sodden, spotted with -blood of the Servian dragoon, and partly defaced by the water of the -Morava, was from Mary--from Mary Montgomerie; and oblivious of all -else the world contained, he rushed away, breathlessly, to the -solitude of his own tent, to peruse it. - -Amid all it had undergone in transmission, the tinted paper on which -it was written retained a subtle, but faint perfume. It was dated -from Eaglescraig, and nearly a month back, and was sorely defaced and -in some parts quite illegible. - -A letter from Mary! he had opened it, hastily yet tenderly, with -tremulous fingers--for his hands, that never shook when holding sword -or pistol, shook now like aspen twigs, and as he held the paper -before him a mist crept over his sight; for he knew that her hand had -touched the paper and had written the lines that were there. - -'My own little Mary!' he murmured; 'on earth I have nothing whereby -to be worthy of you--and I have won and retained your love!' - -He read on quickly and nervously, only to return to the beginning, -and read over and over again; but in some places whole lines had been -obliterated. - -'My darling, oh my darling!' he read in one place, 'we have traced -you at last, and learned from the newspapers that you have escaped -some awful peril, the details of which have not yet been made public. -Write to us soon, and that you are coming home--write to the general, -if you will. Oh, how happy he would be.' - -_He_--what mystery--what change was here? - -'And oh! my own Cecil, you ...... and how can I tell it to you, -although I do so with joy, that now we know all--all about the -giddiness that seized you at the ball, when talking with me, and how -it was caused by Hew---Hew--the infamous and cruel, who, as he has -since confessed in writing, when it was supposed he was dying, that -he drugged your wine--unseen by all!' - -Cecil paused and started to his feet, and passed a hand across his -throbbing forehead. - -'Drugged--oh, villain!--villain--vile trickster!' he exclaimed, while -tears, hot and salt, came unbidden to his eyes. - -'Sir Piers,' continued the letter, 'the general, as he will always -have himself called--the dear old thing!--went straight to the Horse -Guards about it, and saw the commander-in-chief personally. You know -his position, services, and influence; and so, dearest Cecil, you are -again ..... - -'In the old corps,' said Cecil, as the letter here was again -illegible, 'as the _Gazette_ shows--Falconer--Montgomerie--why, and -under which name is the remainder of my life to be passed?' - -A whole paragraph followed, so sorely defaced that, with all his -intense anxiety, Cecil could make nothing of it; and yet his future -life might hinge on all that paragraph contained or detailed. But he -failed to decipher it, save a word or two here and there--among them -the names of 'father--mother--cousin--my own cousin,' and old John -Balderstone was again and again referred to, in connection with some -mysterious letters and documents he had found in some mysterious way -to all appearance, and the whole bewildering passage concluded thus: - -'Sir Piers deplores in his inmost heart his harsh treatment of you -and your poor parents.' (My parents!) 'And craves earnestly that you -will return to your home--to Eaglescraig, and to _me_, dearest Cecil. -He is telling me a long story about India, and letters going by -_dawk_ (whatever that may be) as I write, thus I scarcely know what I -am putting upon paper .... Oh, how we all miss you, Cecil--I more -than all; but you will soon be coming back to us now, thank God! -Long and drearily pass the days--the mornings and evenings now at -Eaglescraig; and I can but think of you, so blighted apparently in -life, so lost to your own world, so ruined and so far away from me, -in a land of peril. I write this to you on the merest chance, and in -the prayerful hope that it may reach you; as we only learned your -present terrible whereabouts from a newspaper paragraph. - -'In Servia! oh, my love! what took you to such an unheard-of place as -Servia? .... I never open the piano now; I dare not trust myself to -sing.' - -The sight of her writing sent ever and anon a thrill to his heart, -even as a touch of her gentle and delicate hand would have done. - -'You will be delighted to learn that the quarrel or estrangement -between your friend Leslie Fotheringhame and my dear Annabelle has -all been explained away, and they are to be married in two months; -but in the meantime Leslie has resolved .... and to please me .... in -Servia. Ah, dearest Cecil, I thought such strange things only -occurred in novels and melo-dramas as are occurring now to us! Only -think of ....' - -'Such strange things; to what does she refer? More obliteration!' -sighed Cecil. - -And now the letter ended, as such documents usually do, with many of -the sweet, if childish, endearing terms so appreciated by lovers, and -of which they never weary, as they are meant for their eyes alone. - -How often Cecil read it, kissed it, and strove to fill up and draw -deductions from the fragmentary passages, we shall not pretend to -say; but great food was given to him for speculation and marvel. - -What was this miraculous discovery of John Balderstone? What event -had produced such a beneficial effect upon everyone, on the general -and himself in particular? How had it turned the heart of the -general to him, and to 'his parents,' the ill-treatment of whom he -deplored? - -That the general, a soldier and man of the highest honour, smarting -under a sense of Hew Montgomerie's treachery to an innocent man, had -done as he had, by putting himself instantly in communication with -the military authorities, and procuring his restoration, as the -victim of a conspirator, Cecil could readily understand and be -profoundly grateful for; but beyond that, all Mary's letter was to -him--chaos! - -Mental questions occurred to him in tiresome iteration. - -In the fever of his impatience and doubts of all he wished -elucidated, he drank some wine, but it seemed destitute of strength -and coolness; he tasted some grapes, and they failed to moisten his -tongue; he lighted a choice cigar, but its soothing influence was -gone. - -Mary's letter, delicious though it was to receive, meant much more -than he could extract from it. What was all this new mystery of -which he had so suddenly become the centre? Would she write -again--and when? - -He must write to her; but where might she be at that precise time? -At Eaglescraig, without doubt. Their love was one that had made them -cleave unto each other in the teeth of all adverse circumstances, and -hope naturally began to brighten anew in Cecil's heart, as he turned -alternately from the puzzling notice in the _Gazette_ to Mary's -equally puzzling letter. - -'Patience,' he would mutter; 'patience, and in a little time all will -be made clear.' - -But nevertheless he grew more impatient than ever. - -How much of caressing tenderness, as well as information of -importance, had been obliterated in Mary's letter by the envious -water of the Morava! When would he obtain a key, a clue to it all? - -The soft, bright dreams that are so frequent in our earlier years, -and form a part of our existence then, and which as time goes on -become greyer, duller, and farther apart, and less tinted with -sunshine, were coming back to Cecil's heart again, as he sat in his -tent alone, and striving to think it all out--the new mystery that -enveloped him. - -He lost no time in writing to her in reply, a long and passionate -letter; all the longer and more passionate that he had heard nothing -of her for such a length of time, and had all the pent-up emotion of -his heart to pour forth. Though he knew not what was meant by the -discoveries to which she referred, he tendered through her all his -thanks to the general for his kindness, and, in the exuberance of his -joy, felt that he could even forgive Hew for the malice he had -displayed and the terrible wrong he had done him. Home! he would -start for home the moment he could hear from her again, or get some -details, some official letter of instructions, on the subject that -perplexed him; and he deplored that as matters stood he could not -just then, with honour, quit the army of the Morava. _Why_, he did -not tell her--that the thunderclouds of a great battle were soon to -darken the air around Deligrad! - -The rumour spread rapidly, with many exaggerations, that the 'Herr -Capitan' in Tchernaieff's own Dragoons was an officer in the British -army, and it greatly enhanced the importance with which Cecil was -viewed in the Servian camp. - -If, ere he could leave that arena with honour, he was doomed to fall -in battle now, it seemed to him hard to have to quit life so -suddenly, when it became full of new value, and seemed more worth -living! - -Often had he reflected that he had not yet seen his thirtieth year, -and that all the maturity of life spread out before him, and he felt -that he had the spirit, energy, and courage to carve out name and -fame for himself; but were either to be won in the heartless struggle -between Servia and Turkey? He had always feared not; and now, with a -bright, glorious, and triumphant revulsion of feeling, he felt it -mattered not. He had now a name and career elsewhere! - -'I like this young fellow Falconer immensely,' said Stanley to -Pelham, as they talked over his affairs after he left them; 'but I -wish him well out of this camp and country too, especially if he has -new and brighter prospects at home.' - -'Well,' replied Pelham, who, like Stanley, was a handsome fellow, -with much of that easy but indescribable air and manner of a man who -has seen all the world of life has to show, 'he has been down on his -luck--got court-martialled, it seems, in some row, and is now -reinstated in his regiment and rank--squared it with the F.M. at the -Horse Guards and all that.' - -'With a girl he loved also--an heiress I expect; and yet he is going -in for the last of this campaign.' - -'What of that--why shouldn't he see the end of the fun?' - -'What of it? This much! won't it be strange--very strange--if Count -Palenka's weird prediction comes true, and the poor fellow gets -bowled out after all?' - -'By Jove! I never thought of that. What a fellow you are! But I -don't believe in predictions of gipsies, jugglers, and things, don't -you know.' - -But there was much in the memory and the time--the memory of the -count's dark grave face, his manner and expression--that impressed -even the thoughtless Stanley; so he dropped the subject, and smoked -on in silence. - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII. - -THE HEIGHTS OF DJUNIS. - -It was the morning of the 20th of October, and the bells of St. -Nestor's Monastery were just tolling for matins, when the deep hoarse -boom of the Turkish Krupp guns announced their attack upon Djunis, -the key of the Servian position, some almost impregnable heights -overlooking Deligrad and the valley of the Morava. - -It was a wild and gusty morning. The chill breeze was sweeping -fiercely through the groves and woodlands, casting their dark and -fitful shadows in the morning sunshine on the ground beneath. There -the dead leaves were whirled in clouds to and fro, and the green -blades of the dewy and yet untrodden grass shone like steel or silver -in the sheen of the level sun. - -Long ere this, the Servian and Russian troops--three thousand of the -latter had joined only two months before--were under arms, and all -moving into the various positions assigned to them; and the sombre -columns, in the brown uniforms of Milano, or the dusky grey capotes -of the Emperor, were marching in masses up the steeps and along the -slopes, with their bayonets and accoutrements flashing incessantly in -the sun, deploying, deepening, and extending, anon reducing their -front as some natural obstruction came in the way, to deploy in front -formation again, the tri-colours waving in the wind, while -occasionally the clear blast of a bugle was borne past on it. - -Cecil's regiment, formed by squadrons of which he commanded the -leading one, had all the cloaks rolled and strapped to the pommel of -the saddles. Baggage, valises, and all that might impede the men in -action, were left in camp, and the edge and point of the sword alone -were looked to for the work of the day, which was chiefly to support -a battery of guns and go wherever they were wanted. - -'My God, I thank Thee!' thought Cecil, with high and pure enthusiasm -in his heart, as he leaped on his horse that morning; 'to-day, -whatever may happen--whatever fate may befall me--I am again a -Cameronian, a Queen's officer, one of the true old Cameronians who in -every fight, from the days of Dunkeld to the fall of Magdala, have -carried their colours with honour, and given place to none!' - -And so he felt that it was as much in the character of a British -officer, as one in the service of Milano Obrenovitch, he drew his -sword in what was eventually to prove the last battle of the Servian -war. - -The cavalry brigade to which he belonged moved off by fours from the -right of squadrons. - -'_Shagaum-marche!_ trot--_à levo!_--nà préte!' (left wheel--forward!) -followed, and the column began to descend the Krusevac road, moving -to the left across a valley. - -Here he passed the infantry corps of Pelham and Stanley, halted -temporarily. - -'A cigar, Falconer,' said the former, holding out his case. - -'Thanks--acceptable indeed in this chill atmosphere.' - -'If I get knocked on the head to-day--' began Pelham, who was rather -a reckless fellow. - -'A cheerful beginning!' said Stanley, sharply; 'I wish you would shut -up, old man. But well, suppose you were so?' - -'My tragic fate would be mourned sincerely, at least by many a -sorrowful West-end trader, in whose books my later annals have been -noted. But, ta, ta, Falconer--there goes our bugle. Advance!' - -Shot dead by a Snider bullet in his heart, poor Pelham, within an -hour after this, lay cold and stiff on the slope of the Djunis, while -his regiment took up its position in front of the fast-advancing -Turkish lines. - -With the three days' fighting that now ensued we shall not trouble -the reader, further than with that portion which cannot be -omitted--the part that Cecil saw, and that he bore in it, with what -befell him there. - -Though Tchernaieff, on this day, placed the management of the troops -chiefly in the hands of General Dochtouroff, he seemed to be -ubiquitous, and was seen everywhere in rapid succession all over the -Servian position, assisting in the placing of brigades here and -there, on the most advantageous ground, and, as an officer who was -present has recorded, 'he placed the troops exactly where they were -most needed, for the Turks made their attack upon the very positions -he had fixed upon.' - -'Good-morning, Herr Capitan,' said he, as he passed Cecil's squadron, -which had halted near some glassy steeps most difficult of ascent, in -rear of the Servian position; 'but it seems to me that the enemy has -got very correct information about all the points of our ground.' - -'They have evidently been furnished with a plan, excellency,' -remarked a Russian aide-de-camp, whose breast was covered with -Crimean and Khivan medals. - -'A plan!' exclaimed Cecil; 'how can they have got it?' - -'How, but through the agency of that scoundrel Guebhard, the -renegade!' replied Tchernaieff, with a dark frown, and a Tartar-like -gleam in his eyes; 'but the seven gates of hell are always open, and -if he is here under fire, he may reach one of them to-night!' - -'If not?' - -'And if he ever falls into my hands, it will be an eye for an eye--a -tooth for a tooth--his wretched life against the many lives lost -to-day!' - -He galloped on; the battle had begun in earnest now; fire and smoke -enveloped the whole position that towered skyward; the booming of the -heavy Krupp guns and the roar of rifle-musketry loaded the air, and -amid it all the Grim Sergeant was calling fast his ghastly roll, -while Cecil sat inactive, impatient in his saddle, and longing to see -some work cut out for the cavalry. - -Wounded Servians and Russians came pouring past from the heights, -smeared with blood and dust--the bronzed and battle-hardened veterans -of old wars and the lad newly enrolled but a week before; some were -binding up their wounds as they limped past, and some fell on the -way, and lay there prone, dead or in a swoon, unheeded and -untended--a painful spectacle to look upon in cold blood. - -So closely was the attack of the position pressed, and so mixed up -did the batteries of artillery and the brigades seem, that amid the -sulphureous cloud that enveloped them it was difficult to know, -sometimes, which were Servian and which were Turkish. - -All day long around the steeps of the Djunis the cannon boomed and -the rattle of musketry continued, and great was the slaughter -everywhere. Whatever might have been the shortcomings of the -Servians in previous battles, all fought well and nobly then, and the -din of battle all the livelong day rang between the peaks of the -wooded mountains, with a thousand hollow reverberations, drowning -every sound elicited by human enthusiasm, valour, suffering, or the -heavy hand of coming death. - -The smoke seemed to mingle with the clouds, especially towards -sunset, where westward, beyond the mountain-tops, a red and -tempestuous sun was setting, filling all the vast expanse with -intense ruddy light, that threw up intervening objects in opaque and -distinct outline. - -On many a face that had been bright with youth and health in the -morning the sunset fell now, and left it cold, white, and lifeless; -the dusk drew on, and still the terrible work of slaughter went -forward without ceasing. - -As it deepened into utter gloom, the red, streaky, and incessant -flashes from hundreds of cannon burst forth incessantly; the infantry -sought each other's where-abouts by their mutual firing, pouring it -in almost at random, while on one side ever and anon burst forth the -deep, hoarse 'Hurrah!' of the Muscovite and Slav, on the other the -incessant and shrill high shout of 'Allah, Allah, hu!' till, as if by -mutual consent, the contest ceased, and both armies lay down, weary -and worn, to endure hunger, thirst, and cold, on the ground where -they had fought, and surrounded by all the agony and horrors of their -mutual carnage. - -Many lay down on that night on the slopes of the Djunis who never -rose again. - -Cecil passed it rolled in his cloak beside his charger, with a stone -for a pillow; but sleep was a stranger to his eyes, and amid the -incessant cries and moans of the wounded, who streamed past rearward -by twos, threes, or even scores at a time, he strove to think of -Mary's letter and all it suggested, to render him oblivious, for a -time, of all his terrible surroundings. - -A sergeant of his troop shared with him the contents of a flask of -raki, fiery stuff, but very acceptable under the circumstances, for -Cecil was as great a favourite with his Servian troopers as he had -been with the Cameronians; and the act of the sergeant--whilom a poor -copper-miner in the mountains--recalled to his memory the faith and -generosity of his old Cameronian servant, Tommy Atkins, on the last -night he was under the same roof with the dear old regiment. - -Cecil knew not how the fight had gone on the summit of the position, -but when morning dawned, among those who were still straggling, -crawling, and limping down from it came a man in a scarlet tunic. -Scarlet! The sight of the familiar colour made Cecil's heart leap. -The wearer, who was severely wounded, proved to be a new aide-de-camp -of Tchernaieff's, a lieutenant of the 1st Hussars of the Russian -Imperial Guard, whose uniform is like the British. - -He informed Cecil that a portion of the position, named the Crevet -Plateau, which Dochtouroff had retaken from the Turks, had afterwards -fallen again into the hands of the enemy; but he had sworn to retake -it or die there, and after a terrible conflict, in which men perished -by companies around him, he had failed to do so, though his troops -had got into that state of rage or frenzy which the French term -_acharnement_. - -With dawn the work of death began again, and Cecil's troop, with some -other cavalry, began, by a circuitous route, to ascend the position. -Ere long shot began to fall and shells to burst among them, -scattering wounds, suffering, and death; but so much were the whole -heights involved in smoke that he could see little of what was going -on, and knew less of the great game that was being played, though the -hill on which he was ordered to halt commanded a view of the valleys -on both sides. - -A regiment of Russian infantry, far away on the right, held with -resolute bravery a post assigned it by Dochtouroff, and the Turkish -masses with their scarlet fezzes and green standards, and their -incessant shout of 'Allah!' seemed to hurl their fury against it -again and again in vain. On the left the smoke from three villages, -set on fire by them, rolled along the valley and veiled everything. -In one part of the field a Russian regiment, which had expended the -last of its cartridges, deliberately 'stood at ease' under the -Turkish fire, perishing where it was posted, rather than lose honour -by falling back! - -Thick lay the dead and thicker the wounded on every hand, and the -medley of sounds that went up from the Crevet Plateau and the -eminences around it was appalling; and the evening of the second day -was drawing on. - -Suddenly General Dochtouroff, pale and excited, but with flashing -eyes, dashed up to where Cecil was at the head of his squadron, and -sharply reining in his horse on the curb, said: - -'A brigade of guns is getting into position to attack the flank of -yonder Turkish column on the left. At the hazard of your life you -will support the guns!' - -Dochtouroff then galloped away, and, as it proved eventually, Cecil -never saw him again. - -'Here come the artillery!' cried a voice, as the guns came thundering -to the front--all Russian, painted green, guns and carriages alike. -Along the slope of the Djunis heights the brigade came in column at -full speed, withdrawn from some other position to act with effect at -the point indicated. Crushing many a dead body, and splashing -through pools of blood, they went in wild career, the drivers using -whip and spur with a will; the fence of a flax-field was swept away -like a gossamer web, as the guns rushed to the front--six horses to -each gun and limber, three riders to each gun. - -Over vineyard walls, fallen trees, through laurel bushes, every horse -straining at the gallop, every driver lashing his team and goring -with the spurs, while yelling, 'Dobro! dobro! hurrah! hurrah!' they -made a wonderfully impressive sight. - -Sometimes the guns bounded up eighteen inches or more, as the -iron-bound wheels went over some rock or obstruction, but no man lost -his seat, and no horse failed in its pace--eight guns, eight -tumbrils, eighty horses, and a hundred men, all rushing on for life -and death to obey Dochtouroff, and get into position, the cavalry -galloping in their rear, and from a column of march right in front, -as they wheeled up into line, they formed to the left. - -The guns were slewed round with their muzzles to the enemy's line, -the limbers were cast off, drawn rearward, and in hoarse Russian the -word was given to fire. 'Boom, boom, boom!' rang along the front, -shrouding all in smoke, and making terrible havoc in the ranks of the -Turkish brigade; but still went up the cry of 'Allah, Allah, hu!' the -concluding word of the Muezzin's call to prayer. - -The guns were not charged with shot, but short-fuse shell, and the -roar of each explosion veiled for a moment all the other sounds of -battle. The explosions were awful, and fast fell the fezzes to -earth, the corpses so mangled as to be scarcely recognised as human; -yet the brave Turks, incited by their officers, full of military and -religious ardour, seeing, perhaps, the glories of Paradise opening -before them and the dark-eyed girls waving their scarfs of green, -closed nobly in, and were making a forward movement as if to charge -the guns, still shouting, 'Allah, Allah, hu!' And now came the time -for Cecil to go to work, to get clear of the brigade of cannon, and -form in front to charge, while the latter were reloaded; and even -after all he had undergone there now boiled up in his heart the -'rapture of the strife,' as Attila is said to have termed the fierce -excitement of battle. - -'By half troops to the right turn--left wheel--forward--trot!' were -his orders. - -'By half troops left wheel--form squadron!' he cried, raising himself -in his stirrups and brandishing his sword; -'forward--_gallop_--CHARGE!' - -By this time, the Turkish infantry were confusedly endeavouring to -form square over the piles of dead and dying who had fallen before -the cannon. - -Ere the final word had left his lips, Cecil had seen that his -squadron had advanced at a brisk trot to within fifty yards of the -enemy's front--that there were no closing and crowding of his files -to impede the free action of man and horse, and that the former kept -the latter well in hand, pressing forward by leg and spur when -necessary; and in splendid order, ere the square was formed, with the -force of a locomotive, the troopers were sword in hand among them, -hewing them down on right and left, the hurrahs of the Servians -mingling with the yells of the Turks. - -'Fours about!' sounded the shrill trumpet, and away wheeling off to -the right and left, while the Turks were still struggling to form -square, he left the guns uncovered, and once more the plunging -fire--grape and canister this time--went with serpent-like hiss -through the swaying mass--tearing off legs, arms, and heads, laying -the dead and the dying in swathes above each other. - -As he again formed his squadron, breathless now, in rear of the guns, -Cecil could see through the whirling and eddying smoke that it was no -longer a line, but a mob of men who were in front--a mob whose -shrieks, screams, and shouts rent the evening air, while the muskets -and bayonets seemed to sway helplessly to and fro. - -Another round of these terrible guns from right to left, given with -such force and rapidity that the hot guns almost leaped from the -ground with the concussion, and the Turks in that quarter gave way en -masse, just as the fiery sun went down beyond the dark mountain -ranges. - -Again Cecil led on his troopers, who had been straining like -greyhounds in the leash--on over the ground an acre and more of which -was covered by men mutilated in every way--corpses struck by four, -five, six bullets--yea, in some instances by a whole charge of -canister--and where every blade of grass was dyed red--on to the -charge once more, and, as there was no time to take prisoners, a -terrible havoc was made--a havoc at which his heart, even in the -thrill of what he thought was victory, began to sicken; but he had -received his orders to support the guns, and nobly had he done so. - -At that point the strife was nearly over, when a cry of agony escaped -the lips of Cecil, as a bullet--the last shot of some wounded -man--pierced his chest like a red-hot sword-blade, and he fell -forward on the neck of his horse, clutching wildly at the reins the -while; at the same moment another Turk who lay wounded--an officer -apparently--by one slash of his sharp Damascus sabre, all but -disembowelled the animal, which uttered a snorting cry, and wheeling -round, quitted the field at a mad and infuriated gallop, with his -helpless rider clinging to the pommel of the saddle. No one could -stop or intercept its headlong career, and in less than a minute the -luckless commander vanished from the eyes of his squadron! - -Was Palenka's prediction about to come true after all? - -Cecil had thought the field was won, yet it was not entirely so. Had -the winning thereof depended on the fiery valour of one man, -Dochtouroff had been victor. At the head of two hundred Russians he -charged with the bayonet right into the centre of the Turkish main -attack, with such fury that ere the rifles crossed the enemy wheeled -about and fled, and he saved the principal position--that of Djunis; -'but Krupp guns, Snider rifles, and better trained troops, in far -superior numbers, had done their work, and Servia was beaten!' - -During the three days' fighting, the latter lost not less than nine -thousand soldiers, in killed, wounded, and missing; and of three -thousand Russians who were in the field, only seven hundred remained -untouched at sunset on the third day. - -The losses of the Turks were never precisely known, but they must -have been terrible, as they were the attacking force, and had -assailed well-chosen positions that were deemed impregnable. - -In Russia and abroad, bluff old Tchernaieff was blamed for -recklessness in his tactics, and doubtless he made mistakes which -ended in failures. 'And then,' says Captain Salusbury, in his work -on those wars, 'it must not be forgotten that he always expected -reinforcements which never came. And again it is to be noted that he -had to operate with eighty thousand of not the very best troops in a -country that required, to command success, two hundred thousand -well-trained and thoroughly disciplined soldiers. There is no doubt -that the men I saw under fire were a far inferior lot to those who -fought in the early part of the war.' - -When the battle--the last of the strife--was fairly over, a requiem -for the dead was solemnly held, according to the Russian ritual, in a -tent upon the field, where numbers of ladies, the wives--and in too -many sorrowful instances the widows--of Russian officers were gliding -about like angels of mercy, ministering to the wants of the wounded. -While leaving Dochtouroff to hold the position, Tchernaieff withdrew -to the camp at Deligrad. - - -Meanwhile where was Cecil Falconer, or Montgomerie as he had been -learning to call himself now? - - - - -CHAPTER XIX. - -WOUNDED. - -Away rearward from the field, out of all range of musketry and -cannon, Cecil's maddened horse--maddened by the agony of a mighty -wound--swept at a furious rate, while he--blinded with equal agony -and unable to guide or control it--clung to his holsters or the -pommel of the saddle, as it bore him on he knew not whither; but it -rushed in its wild career down a wooded valley, actually treading on -its own entrails by the way, till it fell heavily with its rider in -the depth of a coppice, and there both lay, to all appearance, dying, -unseen by mortal eyes. - -Down sank the sun beyond those mountains which are spurs of the -Balkans, a globe of fiery flame in an angry and cloudy sky; the day -was done, and with it many a human life! - -Cecil fainted soon after being thrown from his horse, but ere he did -so there came over him a strange dreamy wonder of how the battle was -progressing, or rather how the tide of war was going, for in the -distance he could still hear the cannon on the heights of Djunis. - -Anon the din of the battle passed away, and on his partially -recovering consciousness the stillness of death surrounded the place -where Cecil lay helpless beside his dead horse--a stillness broken -only by the voice of the vila, or when the damp dewy wings of the -night-birds brushed his cheek when whirring past him. - -The snow-clad summits of the lofty hills that overlook the valley of -the Morava on one side, and that of the Timok on the other, shone -pale and white in the light of the uprisen moon. - -At times, not far from him, he could hear the snort of a wild boar or -the cry of a wolf, scared by the recent din of battle perhaps; and -now he became conscious of the rush of a mountain runnel that ran -near him, but which, sorely athirst though he was, loss of blood had -rendered him too feeble to reach. - -Close by him, with holsters, housing and gilded martingale, lay the -dead body of his caparisoned horse, the blood of which was freely -mingled with his own. - -The hours of the night passed slowly on. The moon waned; but the -stars grew brighter. Tender thoughts of Mary and all their mutual -past, and of the future which now too probably would never be, came -to him at times; and in imagination he more than once thought that -her voice--but curiously mingled with that of Margarita--came to his -almost death-drowsy ear. - -Cold and clammy fell the dew of night on his white and upturned face; -his breathing was long, deep, and laboured, for the ball that so -nearly finished him had deeply pierced his breast. He lay well-nigh -lifeless. Would he ever be found--on the farthest skirts of the -field as he was--till too late; till death had come first and claimed -his own, ere the birds of the air, the wolves and wild dogs made a -banquet of him? - -The moaning of the night-wind in the giant pines was heard at times; -but it brought no sound, save the snarling voices of the beasts of -prey, busy perhaps elsewhere. The flow from his wound had stopped; -he must have perished otherwise; a species of bloody paste had sealed -up the wound for a time; but Cecil's mind had become a chaos now, and -he could remember nothing but the agony in his chest and the -intensity of his thirst--an intensity to which the murmur of the cool -runnel close by added tantalisation. - -Would a cooling draught ever moisten his lips again? Even the -heavily falling dew had failed to do so. - -At last he became alive to all the dire realities of the -situation--that he was lying in a lonely and untrodden spot, done -nigh unto death; far from aid or succour, unable even to drive away -the insects that, when morning came, would be battening in his blood, -and when his sole watcher would be the greedy and expectant carrion -crow. It would be so. He would die in solitude, and never find a -grave until even that might be found when too late! - -Around him, at times, the solitude was awful. - -He must have slept or been senseless, for after a certain space he -found the sun shining above the tree-tops, and some of the ravenous -kites, that were croaking and wheeling above him in circles, had -already begun to settle on the body of his horse, and dig their sharp -beaks into it--something of life and volition in his face alone -preventing them from assailing him, though they eyed him greedily, -viciously, and askance from time to time. - -A cry of great horror escaped him. Then his wound burst forth -afresh, and he became completely senseless and oblivious of all -around him. - -After all--after all he had undergone, was he at last to find an -unknown grave under the eternal shadow of this vast Servian forest! - - -As the third day of the battle was drawing to a close, an -enterprising Briton, well mounted and armed with holster-pistols at -his saddle, was galloping with headlong speed along the road that led -from the north towards the camp at Deligrad; but evening fell ere he -reached the scene of operations, and only in time to see the last red -flashes of the loud artillery pale out in the darkness on the lofty -heights of Djunis. - -The heavy odour of gunpowder pervaded all the air, and every yard of -the way now was encumbered by wounded men. - -'I thought to have seen some of the sport,' muttered the horseman, -who was a well-built soldier-like fellow, with a heavy moustache, and -though clad in a coarse and warm tweed suit, wore a handsome Indian -helmet secured by a gilt chain under his firm and resolute-looking -chin; 'and now I have only arrived in time to be in at the death--the -death of thousands, no doubt!' he added with a sigh; 'I wonder which -way the day has gone, and who has won--Slav or Turk--not that it -matters very much to me. A three-days' battle! Pray God that _he_ -may have escaped in them!' - -In the moonlight he reached the entrance to the camp at Deligrad; but -there, and over all the ground that lay between it and the two -wayside hospitals above which the white flags with red crosses were -always flying, there were crowds of wounded and dying men, whose -moans, cries, and supplications loaded the air, and made the heart of -the stranger sicken. - -At the entrance to the camp the word _Stoe!_ (halt!) was shouted in -his ear, and he was stopped by the guard which was under arms, and -allowing only ambulance waggons and men in uniform to pass--and the -stranger had neither the parole nor counter-sign. - -'Are you in the service of Prince Milano?' asked the officer -commanding, in French. - -'No.' - -'You are a traveller, then?' - -'Yes--monsieur--every man travels, nowadays,' replied the other, -tossing away his cigar. He then inquired anxiously for the -head-quarters or where-abouts of General Tchernaieff and his staff; -but no one could say whether the gallant old Muscovite had, or had -not yet left the heights of Djunis. - -'Have you come from Belgrade?' asked the Servian officer, raising his -voice, for the number and cries of the wounded were increasing every -moment. - -'Yes--monsieur--on the spur.' - -'Then, perhaps you have despatches from the King.' - -'What king?' - -'The devil! here is a fellow who never heard of the King of -Servia--Milano Obrenovitch!' - -'A spy!' said several voices, in Servian and German. - -'Spy, be hanged!' exclaimed the stranger. - -'We have taken one already, and hanged he shall be on the -morrow---the rascal Guebhard!' said the Servian captain, exultingly. - -'I know nothing about all this--I have my passports, which show that -I am an officer in her Britannic Majesty's service.' - -'Bravo! can I serve you?' asked a wounded officer, who was limping -past, supported by a soldier. - -'Thank God, here is a fellow who speaks English!' exclaimed the -stranger to Stanley, for the wounded man was the latter, come down -from the heights with a ball in his leg. - -'And you wish to see the general?' - -'I wish rather to see one who is, or was, on his staff--Cecil -Falconer, a brother officer of mine. Allow me to introduce -myself--Captain Fotheringhame, of the 26th Foot!' - -For he it was--brave, honest, and friendly Leslie Fotheringhame, who -had obtained leave, and come all the way to Servia in search of his -absent comrade. - -'Ah--the old Cameronians!' said the other, as they shook hands. 'I -am Captain Stanley, late Foot Guards, and now, for my sins, Major of -the 5th Servians. I know Falconer well. He was with the cavalry -that went forward to support a brigade of guns. Since noon, I have -seen and heard nothing of him--sorry to say so. I am enduring agony -with my wound. We have had a terrible day of it. I came here in -search of a new sensation; and, by Jove, I have got it--this ball in -my leg! The carnage has been great--and I doubt if poor Falconer has -escaped--all the more that--that----' - -Stanley paused, and hesitated. - -'What?' - -'His death was curiously predicted.' - -'Predicted!' repeated Fotheringhame in a tone of incredulous -surprise; 'by whom?' - -'A brother aide-de-camp--an officer of rank.' - -'The deuce--do you, an Englishman, think such things possible?' - -'When you have been a few months in Servia you will think any devilry -possible,' replied Stanley, with a grimace as his wound stung him; 'I -wish you every success in your inquiries for Falconer, and I shall be -glad to hear of them from yourself at my hut in the lines. Make your -inquiries where the cavalry charged on the right front of the -position, and--till we meet again--good-bye.' - -And with his head reclining on the shoulder of the Servian soldier -who supported him, Stanley, who was evidently in great pain, limped -away, while Fotheringhame, knowing not exactly what to think of all -this--for, though he might have scouted any predictions at another -time, he could not fail to be impressed with doubt and dread, from -the terrible sights and sounds on every hand--took his way towards -the part of the field indicated by Stanley, walking his horse onward, -and upward, from the camp at haphazard in the darkness of a now -moonless night. - -We need neither refer to fully, nor attempt to describe, the endless -scenes of horror that met the eye of Leslie Fotheringhame, as he -stumbled on vaguely over the starlit field of battle--the arena of -the three-days' conflict round the fatal heights of Djunis--scenes -which redoubled in their harrowing intensity as the cold grey dawn -stole in over the faces of the dead and the dying. - -By industriously prosecuting his inquiries among the wounded and the -men of the ambulance corps who were conveying them, he discovered the -exact ground where the brigade of guns had gone into action, and -Cecil's squadron had charged. The brown uniforms of 'Tchernaieff's -Own' were lying there thick, but thicker lay the awful heaps of the -Osmanlies, whom the fuse-shells, grape, and canister had mowed down -as a scythe mows the grass. - -From a sergeant of Cecil's regiment--a sergeant who spoke German, and -was the same good fellow who had shared with him the flask of raki on -the night before the battle--he learned how his friend had been -wounded, as well as his horse, and how the latter had borne him out -of the field, and been lost to sight in the ravine that opened away -deep down on the rear of the right flank. - -The prediction spoken of by Stanley seemed terribly near verification -now, as Fotheringhame searched all the woody ravine, with his heart -heavy as lead, for he remembered the farewell messages of Mary -Montgomerie, and how, when he left her, the kisses of intense -gratitude she bestowed on his cheeks were scarcely less tender than -those of his own Annabelle. - -He searched all the valley, but beneath the deep shadow of the pines, -and amid all the wild undergrowth of years, he could see no sign of -man or horse--only some croaking kites wheeling lazily in -circles--and he turned away, thinking that it was among the -blood-splashed wards of the hospitals and ambulance tents, or by the -pits where the dead were to be interred, his sorrowful search could -only be prosecuted now. - - - - -CHAPTER XX. - -SAVED! - -We have said that when the kites began to assail his dead horse close -by him, a cry of great horror escaped the lips of Cecil. Feeble -though it was, it reached the ears of Leslie Fotheringhame, just as -the latter was in the act of turning, sadly, to leave the wooded -hollow. - -Moving his horse round a clump of wild laurel bushes, he saw a -caparisoned charger lying dead, and near it a man in uniform, to all -appearance dead also--he lay so motionless and still. - -Fotheringhame drew near. In the strange brown Servian uniform, with -his face pale as death could have made it, and obscured by blood and -mud, Leslie Fotheringhame had some difficulty in recognising the -young friend he had come so far to find--in knowing again the once -happy and merry face that, in times past, had been so often opposite -his own at the jovial mess-table; but when he did so, a -half-smothered ejaculation escaped him, and a great joy, mingled with -greater pity, gushed up in his breast, as he leaped from his horse -and knelt beside him. - -Cecil's eyes were sightless now, and, though half-closed, fixed -glassily on vacancy. - -'Cecil--Cecil Falconer!' exclaimed Fotheringhame, as he took in his -the cold and passive hand; but the sufferer heard him not. 'Life -yet, thank God!' he added, as he felt Cecil's pulse, and then his -heart, but withdrew his fingers covered with blood. - -Folding the broad leaf of an acanthus into the form of a cup, he -brought therein some cool water from the adjacent runnel, and Cecil -drank thirstily again, and again; and then his head sank back, with -the eyes still unclosed, yet sightless--seeing nothing and -recognising nothing. - -Fotheringhame took a flask of brandy from one of his holsters, and -poured some, with water, between the lips of Cecil, whose head he -pillowed on his arm. - -Partially restored by this, after a time the sufferer attempted to -speak; but his utterances were unintelligible, and his head sank -lower: his eyes closed now, and his thoughts were -wandering--wandering away to Mary, and to the old regiment in -feverish dreams--dreams, perhaps, suggested by the voice of -Fotheringhame. - -The latter found that the wound in the chest was deep, for there the -ball had lodged, and not a moment was to be lost in having it -attended to. Galloping up to the plateau, he soon procured some of -the ambulance corps; a stretcher was improvised by a blanket and a -couple of muskets, and Cecil was speedily placed in one of the -waggons for conveyance to the camp at Deligrad; but so great was his -agony, that the vehicle had to be stopped from time to time, and the -contents of Fotheringhame's flask, by giving him artificial strength, -alone prevented him from fainting. - -Yet strange visions haunted him. Out of the gathering mists of -death, as he deemed them, he thought he saw the face and heard the -voice of his old friend and comrade; and with them the voice of -Margarita, singing the sweet soft song of 'The Wishes.' - -Once he seemed to see distinctly the face of Fotheringhame, and his -eyes dilated with something of wonder and alarm in them. Then he -closed them, muttering, 'Another dream,' believing it was an -unreality. - -And now, as the ambulance waggon reached the road that led from the -camp to Deligrad, in the open ground Fotheringhame saw some thousand -troops, horse, foot, and artillery, massed in columns, forming three -sides of a hollow square, and his soldier-eye examined critically the -brown ranks of the Servians, and then those in Russian green, as the -bayonets were fixed, and flashed in the morning sun as the arms were -shouldered. - -The fourth or open side of the square was occupied by preparations -for an execution, for there stood a man tied to a post, and before -him a firing-party, composed of twelve Bulgarian volunteers. Deadly -pale looked the culprit, who was stripped to his shirt and baggy red -breeches--Mattei Guebhard, for it was he--taken prisoner in the late -action, by Stanley's regiment--baffled, checkmated, standing there in -dishonour, the centre of thousands of stern and unpitying eyes. - -To this end had his life come! - -Discipline alone kept the troops silent; but the crowds of Servian -peasantry and the camp-followers hooted and yelled at him, loading -the air with opprobrious cries. No braggart was he then. - -He made the sign of the cross repeatedly in the Greek manner, -mechanically, or in a spirit of latent superstition, for religion he -had none. - -Fotheringhame heard only that he was a deserter and spy, yet, -checking his horse, he looked on the scene with breathless interest, -little knowing how prominent a part the culprit had recently played -in the life of his friend Cecil. - -In attendance upon him was the old village pope of Palenka in his -bell-shaped black felt hat with long tabs floating behind, and a -venerable beard spread over the breast of his glittering vestments. -Guebhard smoked a cigar, and for a time preserved a bearing of -indifference, till the priest withdrew and the words of command were -given to the Bulgarians, who cocked their rifles, and his eyes were -bound. Then, unable to stand erect from emotion or craven fear, his -knees gave way under him and his head fell forward, the lashings -which bound him to the post alone supporting him partially. - -The death-volley rang sharply in the morning air; soon all was over, -and the troops were defiling past where the shattered corpse hung at -the post, their colours flying and drums beating merrily, and from -thence into their lines. - -By this time Fotheringhame had conveyed Cecil to the hospital, and -with difficulty secured the attendance of a surgeon, for all the -medical men had their hands full. - -The sights and sounds in the wards were more appalling than anything -he had seen on the field; and the surgeons, with their coats off, -shirt-sleeves rolled up, and red to the elbows in blood, looked like -veritable butchers. - -'Horrible work this, doctor,' said he to a fat, fussy little German; -'cutting off legs and arms with knife and saw, quietly and in cold -blood.' - -'_Ach Himmel!_ you think it is better done with a sabre, while -yelling like a devil broke loose!' - -'In a charge--yes; but please look to my friend.' - -Cecil was now stretched on a pallet, his tunic unbuttoned, and with -his breast a mass of blood, a piteous sight he looked. A second -doctor now came, and while they conferred in German, Fotheringhame -felt his heart stand still. - -'_Mein Herr_,' whispered one, looking up, 'there will be a crisis -soon.' - -'When?' - -'When we have the bullet out.' - -'I trust you have hope?' - -'There is always hope while there is life,' replied the doctor, -turning aside while he carefully wiped a probe; 'but he has lost so -much blood, and is so low, that if he rallies it will be little short -of a miracle.' - -The other doctor deemed the case a hopeless one, and a cry nearly -escaped Fotheringhame when he saw Cecil's form convulsed by a spasm, -as the bullet was extracted, and a swoon came over him. - -'If he should die in my hands--poor Cecil!' thought the kind-hearted -fellow, in great misery of mind; 'or if I am only taking him home to -die! That prediction about a violent death, what did it mean? Who -the devil made it? Looks too deuced likely to happen!' - -And so, while the soft and tender hands of the Sisters of Charity did -all those little offices about Cecil that no wife, mother, or sister -in blood could have done more ably or kindly, Fotheringhame smoked a -cigar close by, full of thought and anxiety, while a long and deep -sleep fell upon the patient, a sleep that was worth a hundred -nostrums. - -'Poor fellow! he is down in his luck, certainly,' thought -Fotheringhame; ''gad, I shall rejoice to hear when the doctors think -him safe round the corner, and we may start for home.' - - -When sense came completely back to Cecil, he knew not where he was, -nor for some hours thereafter did he exactly comprehend all that had -lately happened to him and passed around him; he had lost so much -blood, and been thereby so giddy, weak, drowsy, and insensible. - -His first recollections were of the battle--of supporting the -field-battery, and the charges he had led ere he fell; then the night -in the woody hollow--his thirst and the kites hovering over him! - -Now he was in a handsome, lofty, and airy room, and on a pretty -French couch; a soft flower-scented breeze came through an open -window, the hangings of which were partly drawn; and he had also a -sense of a woman flitting noiselessly about him, and by her plain -black dress and the white band with the red cross on the left arm, -her crimped cap and spotless white apron, he recognised in her one of -the German nurses or Sisters of Charity, who, the moment she caught -his eye and saw him move, gave him a cooling and refreshing drink, -glad to find symptoms of recovery in a poor sufferer whose mutterings -alone had given her a clue to his wants, while she had felt her heart -touched by the utterance of the ever-recurring name of 'Mary'; but -her work was nearly done now, as she had nursed him back to health -and something like strength. - -'Where am I?' he asked, with a husky voice. - -'In Belgrade, _mein Herr_.' - -'Belgrade! with whom?' - -'Friends; kind friends, who will take care of you now that the -horrible war is all over.' - -In a well-hung carriage procured by Fotheringhame from General -Tchernaieff, Cecil, all unknown to himself, had been conveyed more -than a hundred miles from the field of battle and from the crowded -and pestilential hospitals thereby, and was now comfortably quartered -in the Krone or La Couronne Hotel at Belgrade. - -Cecil was greatly bewildered by hearing that he was in the capital of -Servia, and was disposed to ask more questions; but his nurse told -him that he must be patient, adding, while the tender light of a -sweet and womanly soul lit up her eyes: - -'And you must not talk, it is bad for your chest, Herr Captain; drink -more of this--you cannot! Then I must feed you with a spoon.' - -'You?' - -'Yes,' and tenderly the blooming little fräulein raised his head on -her soft arm, and made him partake of the medicated food the doctor -had ordered. - -'Now go to sleep,' said she; 'sleep and feed--feed and sleep, you -naughty boy, and we soon shall have you in your saddle once more.' - -He dozed off again, but tossed restlessly on his pillow, as dreams -came to him now more distinctly than before. - -'He has youth and strength, and pure good blood--at least, what is -left of it,' said the doctor, smilingly, to honest Fotheringhame, who -was always hovering near; 'I believe in these--and such nurses as -you, Sister Gretchen, with plenty of jellies and -beef-tea--_ja_--_ja_!' - - -'Bravo, old fellow! you've turned the corner at last!' was the -exclamation of Fotheringhame to Cecil, some days after this. - -'You think so, dear Leslie,' replied Cecil, in a weak voice, as he -held out a wasted hand to his friend; 'but I only fear that I am -getting near the end now--the end of a sad and broken life!' - -'Now don't talk this way, or I'll be off like a bird and leave you!' -said Fotheringhame. - -'How shall I ever be able to thank you for coming all the distance -you have done, to look after a poor waif like me? And but for your -so miraculously finding me, I must have perished--inevitably -perished!' - -'There was nothing very miraculous in it. I traced out the position, -and by chance lighted upon an old sergeant, who showed me the way -your horse had gone; I followed the track, and, thank God, heard your -cry.' - -'Another moment, that odious kite would have torn out my eyes. Oh, -Heavens! I shall never forget, my dear Leslie, the horror of that -helpless time! After leading my fellows to the last charge in -support of the guns, I have no recollection of anything--I must have -gone down like a shot!' - -Fotheringhame thought that now the time was come when he could safely -enlighten Cecil as to the change in his fortune, and elucidate the -mysterious portions of Mary's half-obliterated letter--that he was -Sir Piers's heir--her cousin, and that the obnoxious Hew had -disappeared from the family group; and, as may easily be supposed, -great was Cecil's bewilderment and wonder to hear of a discovery--a -_dénouement_ so singular. - -Mary's cousin--the general's heir--heir to Eaglescraig and his -baronetcy! Could such things be? - -He had much to inquire about again and again, and much to think of -deeply now; and sedulously as his mother, in her widowhood and in her -pride of heart, had kept all knowledge of his family, and even of his -name, from him, innumerable things that occurred in their wandering -life took a tangible form now, and the cause of many an emotion and -occurrence, that had puzzled him in the past time became apparent -enough; and in his grateful heart a great pity mingled with the -yearning memory of his mother. - -'And now about yourself and Annabelle Erroll,' asked Cecil on one -occasion. - -'Only that we are to be married as soon as we get back, so make haste -and get well, old fellow!' was the laughing reply of Fotheringhame. - -The war in Servia was virtually over now; and even had it not been -so, Cecil could have resigned now with honour, as Stanley did, who -was also _en route_ for England, with several other volunteers. - -An armistice had been signed on the day after the last battle, and -the sword was sheathed in the valley of the Morava, and Milano IV. -remains still prince, but not king, of Servia and Bosnia. - -With the struggle between Russia and Turkey, on the soil of Servia, -Cecil had done. Of what the former for ages has looked forward -to--the destruction of the latter--a prophecy of extreme antiquity -foretells the accomplishment--a prophecy uttered when, or by whom, no -man knows; but eight centuries ago it was read on the brazen horse of -an equestrian statue, then ages old, when brought to Constantinople -from Antioch. - -Though weak from the effects of his terrible wound, Cecil was -recovering fast; while love and fortune seemed to smile alike upon -him; and to him and Fotheringhame pleasant indeed was their journey -from Semlin, on the famous Danube, to Monaco, so famous in the -Hungarian annals for its terrible battle, and from thence homeward by -Vienna and the Netherlands. - - - - -CHAPTER XXI. - -'THE END CROWNS ALL.' - -A yellow autumn moon in a deep blue sky was pouring a flood of light -over the old 'Queen of the North,' throwing the giant shadows of her -rock-built fortress far athwart the dark valley below, and of the -ridgy masses of the old city of mediæval times, towering high above -the long white terraces of the New Town, when Leslie Fotheringhame -thankfully deposited his charge--the poor waif whom he had found -dying on the bank of the Morava--in one of the many stately hotels in -the vicinity of Princes Street; we say thankfully, for though Cecil -was recovering, he was still weak enough to render the prediction of -Count Palenka something unpleasant to remember. - -'Now, Cecil, a bumper of Moselle, as a refresher after our long day's -journey, and then I go to meet those at the railway, whom, I suppose, -you will be right glad to see!' said Fotheringhame, ere he laughingly -took his departure in a cab. - -Cecil drained the wine, and looked around him, half fearing that he -might be dreaming--and that the spacious room, the brilliant -gaselier, the Turkey carpet, the tiger-skin before the stately white -marble mantelpiece, the great mirror in which his own pallid face and -eyes unnaturally bright with long suffering were reflected, might -pass away. How much had he seen of misery, how much bitterness of -thought, and how much peril had he undergone since last he had -surroundings such as these! - -Could it all be real, that within an hour, perhaps, Mary's hands -would be in his? - -He approached one of the tall windows and looked out upon the night, -and on the well-known scene, with all its familiar sights and sounds, -with the moonlight streaming over steeple, tower, and dome--St. -Giles's crown--the castle on its rock, so high in air that its lights -seemed to mingle with the stars, and from it came the sound of the -Cameronian drums, awaking the echoes of turret and battery--the drums -he would soon be following again; but the heavy sigh of supreme -gratitude that escaped him reminded him by a pang of the wound in his -chest, and he reeled giddily. - -'I would that they were come,' he muttered. 'I knew not till now -that I was still so weak,' he added, as he looked at his wasted hands. - -The shadow or outline of a man's figure standing in the broad iron -balcony without the window now fell suddenly on a window-blind. -Cecil drew it up--threw open the sash abruptly, and found himself -face to face with--Hew--Hew watching him! - -He seemed shabby in dress and dissipated--his hair and moustache -untrimmed; his eyes were bleary, his nose pimply, and his whole air -and aspect were those of a sorely broken-down tippler. - -Cecil, in utter repugnance, recoiled a pace, and an ugly expression -flashed in the shifty and bilious-like eyes of Hew. - -'You, here!' exclaimed Cecil. - -'Yes--and I saw your arrival.' - -'Are you living in this hotel, Hew?' - -'Well--I am, in a manner of way,' he replied, sulkily: 'I am the -billiard-marker!' - -'The billiard-marker? Have you fallen so far?' - -'Yes,' he replied, with a fierce grimace. - -'You did me an infamous and awful injury, Hew, as your own confession -has shown; but,' added Cecil, in the generosity of his nature and -under the impulses of the time, 'I forgive it all now.' - -'Thank you--how good!' sneered the other. - -'Let us forget our feud--your feud, rather; but never let me look -upon your face again.' - -'Only children and fools, they say, forget.' - -'And what have you to remember, pray?' - -'All that you have come between, and me.' - -'I have only come to my own.' - -'Curse you!' exclaimed Hew, hoarsely and bitterly. - -'You are a rancorous fellow--begone instantly!' replied Cecil, as he -closed the window; and, feeling somewhat exhausted by the emotions -this most unexpected interview stirred within him, he threw himself -upon a sofa to await the return of Fotheringhame with those who were -to accompany him, and after a time he forgot all about Hew and his -close vicinity. - -Weary and weak, a drowsiness encouraged by the warmth of the room -stole over him, and, in spite of his efforts to keep awake, he fell -into a drowsy state between sleeping and waking; but his mind was -full of Mary, who would soon be with him--the real and imaginary so -blended in his vision, but indistinctly, with that vacuity which -makes the dreamer sigh when his fancies have become a memory. - -Hew was still watching without, and unnoticed by the crowds that -passed and repassed in the lighted street below. His heart was full -of the bitterest rancour, envy, and rage. His mind was full of a -species of madness--but a madness with a great deal of method and -cunning in it. - -He peeped in from time to time at the sleeper, with a gleam of -intense malice in his stealthy eyes. Cecil was alone and unattended, -and he lay there apart from all, and quite unheeded amid the bustle -of the great hotel. - -'There is not much life left in the fellow,' muttered Hew; 'a good -shake--a squeeze of the windpipe, or a few more drops in his drink -than I gave him at the ball, and Eaglescraig is mine!' - -The door of the apartment was shut--if he would act, it must be done -promptly. He would enter and leave the room by the French window, -and after all was over, leave the balcony by another apartment, and -repair at once to his usual scene of work, the billiard-room. - -A blindness and giddiness, with a great terror, came over him for a -moment; as one in a dream, he looked at the crowds passing below--the -stars above; gave a last glance to assure himself that his avenue of -escape was clear, and then with a heart beating wildly, fired as it -was by envy, avarice, malice, and all uncharitableness, he again drew -near the window of Cecil's room and laid his stealthy hand upon it; -but, as he did so, a deep hoarse malediction escaped in a kind of -whisper, and shrinking back he stole softly away with all speed, and -quitted the balcony--for he had seen a tableau that baffled his -vengeance, and no doubt saved his soul from the perpetration of a -terrible crime! - -A little delay might have changed the fate of more than one person -connected with our story; a great tragedy might have taken place -almost without discovery, for had aught occurred to Cecil, it might -have been attributed to his wounded and weak condition--so near was -the prediction of Palenka being verified, not on the field of battle -or in the carnage of charging squadrons, but in the quietude and -seclusion, of a fashionable hotel! - -From the latter, the amiable Hew took his departure on the instant, -and it is very unlikely that he will ever cross the path of Cecil -again. - -Dreams are usually independent of all details and coherency; but -Cecil, as he dozed on, seemed to become gradually aware of the dear -and familiar face, of one who smiled gently upon him, as she bent -over him--her very life--her treasure, and delicious was the thrill -the dream gave him. - -The sense of a beloved presence became more vivid and defined. He -heard his name called, and started to find Mary stooping over him, -her veil thrown back, and her eyes--soft and loving at all -times--softer now with an infinite yearning, as she saw how weak he -was, and how hard had been the struggle between youth and Death! - -'Mary, Mary, let me hear your voice again!' he said, as he folded her -in his arms, yet with that expression of doubt in his haggard eye, as -of one who feared the joy around him might be a dream and pass away. - -'Take her to your heart, my boy--the same blood runs in your veins!' -said old Sir Piers, all unused to act 'the heavy parent,' but his -keen bright eyes were as humid and moist as an old man's can well be, -as he took Cecil's face between his withered hands, and gazed into -his features as if he thought he could never look at them -sufficiently; 'my own boy's eyes!' he exclaimed, with a kind of sob -in his throat; 'my own boy's brow and lips--my poor Piers--you are -his son--his son!' - -A soft kiss was now laid upon his cheek--the kiss of Annabelle -Erroll, and then the latter retired into the recess of a window, with -her tall, dark lover Fotheringhame, who had no doubt a vast deal to -tell her, and seemed to do so, very quietly and very softly, under -the shadow of the curtains. - -'My darling, my darling!' Cecil could but whisper again and again. - -'Oh, Cecil--Cecil, whom I thought I was never--never to see again! -How have I ever lived through all this!' she kept repeating; 'why did -you go to Servia?' - -'What mattered it where I went _then_--at the time, I mean!' - -He gave a short sigh, as even her beloved cheek on his wounded chest -made him wince. - -'Egad, what a home-coming we'll have!' said the general; 'Rungeet -entering Lahore will be nothing to it! Old John Balderstone, and -Mrs. Garth, widow of Garth, of Ours--you remember her, Cecil? will be -mustering the tenants and everybody--old Tunley too--what a Christmas -we'll have! And there will be a bonfire on the old tower-head at -Eaglescraig, that will light up the whole Firth of Clyde!' - -But the lovers thought only of the future, which seemed so close and -certain now. - -Pillowed on Mary's breast--surrounded by friends and all the perfect -safety of home and assured position, there was--to Cecil--a calm and -delicious joy in existence now, after all the fierce whirl, the -aching disappointment, and the wild excitement of his life recently. - - - -THE END. - - - -BILLING AND SONS, PRINTERS AND ELECROTYPERS, GUILDFORD. - -_J. 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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:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: The Cameronians, Volume 3 (of 3)</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:0;'>A Novel</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: December 3, 2021 [eBook #66875]</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 THE CAMERONIANS, VOLUME 3 (OF 3) ***</div> - -<h1> -<br /><br /> - THE CAMERONIANS.<br /> -</h1> - -<p class="t3b"> - A Novel.<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p class="t3"> - BY<br /> -</p> - -<p class="t2"> - JAMES GRANT,<br /> -</p> - -<p class="t3"> - AUTHOR OF<br /> - 'THE ROMANCE OF WAR,' 'OLD AND NEW EDINBURGH, ETC.<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /></p> - -<p class="t3"> - IN THREE VOLUMES.<br /> - VOL. III.<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /></p> - -<p class="t3"> - LONDON:<br /> - RICHARD BENTLEY AND SON,<br /> - Publishers in Ordinary to Her Majesty the Queen.<br /> -<br /> - 1881.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="t4"> - [<i>All Rights Reserved.</i>]<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p class="t3b"> - CONTENTS OF VOL. III.<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /></p> - -<p class="noindent"> - CHAPTER<br /> -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> - I. <a href="#chap01">NEWS AT LAST!</a><br /> - II. <a href="#chap02">THE COINCIDENCE</a><br /> - III. <a href="#chap03">EAGLESCRAIG ONCE MORE</a><br /> - IV. <a href="#chap04">THE DIVIDED PAIR</a><br /> - V. <a href="#chap05">A STRANGE ACCUSATION</a><br /> - VI. <a href="#chap06">A FATAL PROOF FOUND</a><br /> - VII. <a href="#chap07">CECIL'S VISITOR</a><br /> - VIII. <a href="#chap08">BAFFLED!</a><br /> - IX. <a href="#chap09">CROSS PURPOSES</a><br /> - X. <a href="#chap10">THE TELEGRAM</a><br /> - XI. <a href="#chap11">A DARK PREDICTION</a><br /> - XII. <a href="#chap12">THE RECONNAISSANCE</a><br /> - XIII. <a href="#chap13">THE WAYSIDE CHAPEL</a><br /> - XIV. <a href="#chap14">THE BATTLE OF ZAITCHAR</a><br /> - XV. <a href="#chap15">A RIDE FOR LIFE OR DEATH!</a><br /> - XVI. <a href="#chap16">WHAT THE 'TIMES' TOLD</a><br /> - XVII. <a href="#chap17">MARY'S LETTER</a><br /> - XVIII. <a href="#chap18">THE HEIGHTS OF DJUNIS</a><br /> - XIX. <a href="#chap19">WOUNDED</a><br /> - XX. <a href="#chap20">SAVED!</a><br /> - XXI. <a href="#chap21">'THE END CROWNS ALL'</a><br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap01"></a></p> - -<p class="t2"> -THE CAMERONIANS. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER I. -<br /><br /> -NEWS AT LAST! -</h3> - -<p> -From such terrible episodes and -scenes as those that close our -last chapter, and from such a -land of wild barbarity, we gladly turn -homewards for a time. -</p> - -<p> -It was summer; and the season had -scattered its roses and their leaves lavishly -over the old Scoto-French garden of -Eaglescraig, for such it was, with its -closely-clipped privet hedges, its long grass -walks, balustraded terraces, mossy sundials, -and parterres, where deep box-edging was -alternated by flower borders running along -the paths, and where wall-flowers, -sweet-williams, and tiger lilies, with moss and -Provence roses, were varied by espaliers that -in the coming time would be laden with -fruit. -</p> - -<p> -The summer was in its glory, but there -was not much brightness within the house -of Eaglescraig. So Cecil, who had latterly -met with such scanty kindness from Sir -Piers, was actually his grandson, and the -honours of the old line were perhaps -neither to die out, or pass to a far-away -branch, after all! -</p> - -<p> -John Balderstone had proved all this, -and great were the content and glee -thereat among the old visitors of the -mansion; there being no regrets for Hew -being 'scratched,' as he called it, 'and out -of the running now,' for his general bearing -had rendered him obnoxious to every one. -</p> - -<p> -'So the whirligig of time brings about -its revenge,' said old Tunley, the butler; -'pride always goes before a fall.' -</p> - -<p> -'Yes!' coincided John Balderstone, -with an angry smirk on his face; 'now, -Master Hew may go to Hecklebirnie!' -</p> - -<p> -'Where is that?' -</p> - -<p> -'Three miles beyond—well, a very warm -place, as our Scots proverb has it,' added -the factor, as he drained a stiff jorum in -Mr. Tunley's pantry. -</p> - -<p> -Mrs. Garth rejoiced openly at the -change that had come to pass. -</p> - -<p> -'It would have been unnatural indeed,' -she said, 'that a girl so sweet and sensitive -as Mary should have been mated to Hew, -whose actions, nature, and habits would -have jarred on her softer nature perpetually.' -</p> - -<p> -And Sir Piers heard her, ever and anon, -making such remarks as this, without -according the angry response they would once -infallibly have elicited; while to Mary the -relief was inexpressible! But meantime, -where was Cecil now? This question was -ever in her mind, causing an aching, -gnawing anxiety there, amounting to positive -physical pain; and she heard it daily on -the lips of all around her, Hew excepted; -and once in his cups the latter expressed -to John Balderstone a fierce hope that the -absent heir might be——' -</p> - -<p> -'Stop, sir!' cried John; 'where?' -</p> - -<p> -'Oh, anywhere,' replied Hew, with an -angry gloom in his bilious-looking eyes; -'I am not particular as to climate, or -locality.' -</p> - -<p> -So far as Mary was concerned, his -occupation was gone, like his hopes of -everything now; and, gentle and tender -though she was, Mary, remembering all -the past, could feel no pity for him. -</p> - -<p> -'Dear old Snarley!' she once exclaimed, -catching up her pet terrier, and then -talking at Hew; 'you, at least, have -always loved me for myself alone—no -thought have you of fortunes or acres, of -rent-rolls and bank-notes; you would -rather have a marrow-bone, than -all—wouldn't you, my darling doggie?' -</p> - -<p> -And Hew eyed her, and the dog too, -viciously. He could no longer, as before, -coarsely and vulgarly, taunt Mary with -the obscurity of Cecil's birth, now that it -was proved beyond all doubt to be superior -to his own; neither could he avail himself -now, as before, of the general's countenance -and support, since his rival was the real -heir of line and entail; while he was but a -penniless dependent. -</p> - -<p> -How bitterly and unwillingly, again and -again, he anathematised the hour, in which -that—to him—fatal packet was so inopportunely -discovered by John Balderstone, and -its blighting contents brought to light! -</p> - -<p> -Had it only, by fate, been left forgotten, -unknown in its place of concealment, for a -year or so more, all might have gone well -with him; but now—now—he could only -curse heavily and grind his teeth in the -impotency of his wrath and the deep -bitterness of his disappointment. -</p> - -<p> -'All the world's a stage, and the men -and women only players;' but he who had -played the deliberate villain in the drama -of Cecil's life as yet, was still unmasked, -and Hew grinned with malicious triumph -as he thought of that. -</p> - -<p> -The generous Sir Piers felt that he -owed Hew some reparation for the loss of -his Indian appointment, and the heavy -blight that had fallen on all the prospects -once before him; and he hoped that if -Hew would only settle down to work and -study, that something—he knew not -precisely what—might be done for him yet; -but Hew, exasperated by the trick fortune -had played him, and the humiliating change -in his position, had taken heavily to the -bottle of late, and his naturally savage -nature became at times inflamed to the -verge of madness. -</p> - -<p> -Mary was inevitably lost to him now; -and that which he deemed much more -important—her money! But if Cecil could -be removed—crushed—destroyed—thrust -out of his path and of this life too—he, -Hew, would again be the heir of entail—heir -to Eaglescraig and the baronetcy. -</p> - -<p> -But where was Cecil now? -</p> - -<p> -Could he but discover him—could he -but cross his path, he would not be over -particular about how he got rid of him; -and at such times dark and terrible -thoughts possessed him. -</p> - -<p> -To drown care, and as a source of -excitement, he had plunged deeper into his -dissipations; he had become a more -frequent visitor at race-courses, where a -very little of his own money went into the -pockets of others, while a good deal of the -money of others accrued to him, by some -mysterious process. He also stuck to his -card playing—écarté being, as of old, his -favourite game; and unless each rubber -thereat represented a sum larger than he -deemed sufficient to give zest to the game, -even écarté had no charms for him. -</p> - -<p> -Some of his escapades drew upon him -the indignation of the general, and feeling -himself all but discarded, his absences -from Eaglescraig became longer and more -frequent; so that none there knew precisely -of his haunts or whereabouts, till the -portly Mr. Tunley brought the startling -intelligence one day that 'after a terrible -bout of delirious trimmins, Master Hew -was—or believed himself to be—dying, at -the Montgomerie Arms Inn,' where he -prayed the general in pity to come and see -him once again. -</p> - -<p> -Accompanied by a medical adviser and -old John Balderstone, Sir Piers at once -rode to the old posting-house indicated; and -there, pale, wan, hollow cheeked, and with -eyes unnaturally sunk and bloodshot, he -found his once favoured protégé in a state -that shocked him. -</p> - -<p> -Hew was far from dying yet, as the -doctor averred; and Sir Piers too—he -'had seen too much of that sort of thing up -country, not to know all about it;' but, in -his lowness and perturbation of spirit, Hew -firmly believed that the hour of his demise -was close indeed; and clinging to the hand -of Sir Piers, while moaning and sobbing, -he confessed how he had cheated and -swindled often, and how he had maligned -Cecil in many ways, and more than all, -the cruel trick he had played him, on -the night of the ball, by drugging his -wine. -</p> - -<p> -He uttered a veritable howl of dismay, -and fell back in his bed, when he saw the -sudden expression of horror, rage, and -shame, that mingled in the face of the -honourable old soldier, in whose heart there -swelled up a great emotion of pity for -Cecil. -</p> - -<p> -He fiercely withdrew his hand from -Hew's despairing and tenacious clutch, and -started back a pace from the bed whereon -the culprit lay. -</p> - -<p> -'It is well that we have all heard this -confession of a crime, as black as -assassination—a confession which I request you -both to commit to memory, and you, John -Balderstone, most carefully to writing. As -for you, sir,' he added, with a withering -glance at Hew, 'I shall never look upon -your face again, and now leave you with -the doctor and your own conscience, if you -have such a thing about you! Order my -horse,' he concluded, as he rang the bell, -and quitted the room without glancing -again at Hew, whose wasted face was -buried in the pillows, among which he was -groaning heavily. -</p> - -<p> -Buried in deep, anxious, and angry -thoughts—angry with himself too—the -general rode slowly home. -</p> - -<p> -So—so—this was the secret and true -character of Hew Montgomerie—a blackleg—a -cheat—the perpetrator of a great -villany, on an innocent man! 'When -anything in which we have most believed, -grows shadowy and unreal, we are apt to -grow unreal to ourselves;' and the general, -who had once believed greatly in Hew, now -knew not what to think. -</p> - -<p> -'Jealousy and avarice are the meanest -of passions,' he thought, and terribly had -Hew given full swing to both. 'Jealousy, -I know, has driven people to incredible -acts of deceit; but this act of Hew's -has been, beyond all calculations, infamous!' -</p> - -<p> -'It has been just as my heart foreboded!' -said Mary to Mrs. Garth, when the -revelation reached them, and the measure of -her horror of Hew was now full. She -then thanked Heaven for her wealth, -that she might share it with the -bruised and the fallen; but whither was -he gone? -</p> - -<p> -Alas! no one could find the smallest -clue to it. -</p> - -<p> -After the revelation, which fear of death -had wrung from him, Hew recovered -rapidly, and made many a solemn promise -'to eschew horseflesh and bits of -painted pasteboard;' but it was only a case -of 'the devil was sick,' etc., for when well -he plunged into his old bad courses, far -exceeding the allowance the general so -generously made to him, and then he -disappeared for a time. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -Autumn had come now; the crops had -been gathered, and the gleaners were busy -on the upland slopes and fertile braes of -Cunninghame and Kyle; the last of the -high-piled wains had gone homeward -over the furrowed fields and through the -leafy grass lanes that led to the picturesque -rickyard; the fern and heath-covered -wastes were in all their beauty, the great -gorse-bushes in all their golden bloom, and -the woodlands wore many a varied hue, -from dark-green to russet-brown and pallid -yellow. -</p> - -<p> -Since the discovery made by John -Balderstone, and the revelations of Hew, -the general had been rather a changed -and broken-down man; but he now clung -to Mary Montgomerie more than ever, -and daily she drove him in her -pony-carriage—the same in which Cecil was wont -to accompany her, wrapped cosily up in -the skins of animals he had shot in -India—handling the ribbons so prettily with -her gauntleted little hands, and always -comporting herself so sweetly and tenderly -to him, and just as a favourite daughter -would have done. -</p> - -<p> -He felt that a great crime had been -committed against one who was his own -flesh and blood; and that, in ignorance, he -had condoned that crime; and, more than -all, in society had visited it with all the -acrimony he deemed due and proper to the -occasion. -</p> - -<p> -'I have again been guilty of rash judgment—of -indiscretion and of cruelty!' he -said again and again to himself in secret; -and his mind drew painful pictures of the -ruined Cecil, a wanderer or outcast, -perhaps in penury, misery, and despair, -driven, it might be, to suicide; and, -remembering the real or fancied vision he -had seen in time past, had a nervous and -childish fear of perhaps beholding another. -</p> - -<p> -Already had the father been wronged; -and now, how much more deeply the son! -Was a curse coming upon his race—a curse -like that which blighted the Campbells of -Glenlyon, and more than one other family, -for some crime committed in ages past? -It almost seemed so; and he had no -language wherewith to express his loathing -of Hew, and the cunning and cowardice of -the latter. -</p> - -<p> -Tidings of Cecil or how to trace him, -were the daily thought of all at -Eaglescraig, and the general wrote again and -again, but vainly, to Leslie Fotheringhame, -to Dick Freeport, Acharn, and other -members of the corps on the subject; but -none could afford the slightest clue to the -mystery that enveloped his disappearance. -</p> - -<p> -The presence of friends, if not avoided, -was certainly not courted at Eaglescraig -now; even the general forgot his -reminiscences of India and the Cameronians -in this new anxiety, and the days passed -slowly, gloomily, and monotonously on, till -Mary bethought her of Annabelle Erroll, -who she knew had a sorrow of her own, -and pressed her to visit them again. -</p> - -<p> -The curiously and mysteriously worded -advertisements inserted by John Balderstone -in the second column of the <i>Times</i>, -concerning Cecil, and seeking some knowledge -of his whereabouts, never reached him -by the banks of the Morava, or beyond the -slopes of the Balkan mountains; and fears -began to gather in the hearts of those who -loved him, that if not gone to the -Antipodes, he must be dead! -</p> - -<p> -'I am breaking up, John,' he would -say querulously to his old friend, 'and am -about as much use now as a Scotch M.P. or -a third wheel to a field-piece!' -</p> - -<p> -Yet, as we are all creatures of habit, he -adhered to his old ways mechanically. As -an Indian veteran, accustomed to be up at -gun-fire and when the cantonment ghurries -clanged, he was always wont to be abroad -early; and there was one morning, which -he never forgot, when he was up and -about earlier than usual. -</p> - -<p> -He had been through the stables with -Pate Pastern, the groom, and seen the -carriage-horses, his own roadster, Mary's pad -and her ponies; he had been with old -Dibble, the gardener, about potting the -flowers, though he scarcely knew a daffodil -from a rhododendron; had seen the shepherd -off to look after the cattle, and now came -the postman with the letters and papers; -but he tossed them all aside and muttered: -</p> - -<p> -'What can interest me now?' -</p> - -<p> -But Mary always had the power of -rousing and interesting him, and, breakfast -over, she began to read the morning paper -aloud, as she often did, for he loved to hear -her silvery voice. She turned, as was her -wont with him, to the Indian news, though -many a hearty laugh he had at her haphazard -pronunciation of Hindostanee names -and words; and, after giving him all the -news from Simla, Calcutta, and so forth, -her eyes fell on those from the Danubian -provinces and the East; and she was in -the act of reading, when her voice broke; -as a swelling came into her throat she -stopped, and, while tightly clutching her -paper, fell back in her chair, with her face -deadly pale. -</p> - -<p> -'Mary, my darling, you are ill; what is -the matter?' exclaimed Sir Piers, starting -from his easy-chair and ringing the bell furiously. -</p> - -<p> -'News of Cecil!' she replied, faintly. -</p> - -<p> -'News of Cecil—when—how?' -</p> - -<p> -'See, see! oh, heavens!' she exclaimed, -smoothing out the paper and then pushing -back her hair from her temples. -</p> - -<p> -It was the special correspondent's detailed -account of the battle by the Morava, -and the singular gallantry of 'the British -volunteer, Mr. Cecil Falconer,' in rescuing -and remounting General Tchernaieff, after -a brigade of Cossacks had given way; of his -promotion and decoration with the Takova -cross, and all that the reader already -knows. -</p> - -<p> -Tremulously the general read the notice -again and again, with a glow of pride and -joy in his old face—joy in which Mary did -not fully share, for dread of the perils -surrounding the absent one was her -immediate second thought; but all suspense—all -uncertainty were ended now. The -absent, the wronged, and the lost one was -discovered, but oh how far away! -</p> - -<p> -'My boy's boy! my boy's boy!' muttered -Sir Piers, wiping his spectacles, which had -become covered with moisture. 'Tunley, -call Mrs. Garth—the chief of my household -staff—she must hear of this at once. -Quick, she is in the compound!' he added, -referring to the garden, as an Anglo-Indian -never rids himself of his old associations. -And motherly old Mrs. Garth, who was -looking just as we saw her last, with her -grey hair thick and soft, and with keen -bright eyes under a pair of shrewd Scotch -eyebrows, heard with genuine joy the -sudden tidings of Cecil, for whom she had -always had the strongest regard. -</p> - -<p> -The day was passed in surmises and -plans for the future, and Mary hurried -away to her own room, to find perfect -seclusion at last—away from all! She -locked her door; threw off her dress as if -it stifled her; donned her robe de toilette; -let down the masses of her hair for -coolness, threw them over her shoulders, and -sat down with her dimpled chin resting in -the pinky palm of her left hand, to -think—think—think it all out. -</p> - -<p> -What should she do! Write! -</p> - -<p> -She threw open her desk and blotting-pad; -but her brain was too excited—her -poor heart beat too fast and too painfully -to permit her to steady her thoughts, and -she paced to and fro, so wearily. -</p> - -<p> -'Thank heaven, dear Annabelle is coming!' -she exclaimed more than once. -</p> - -<p> -This battle by the Morava had been -fought, by the date given, more than a -month ago. A whole month! What -might not have happened since then? In -what fresh perils might not Cecil have -been plunged? And much had happened, -such as the gentle mind of Mary could -not have conceived, or deemed possible, in -this age of the world. -</p> - -<p> -Now the news of the Servian war—a -war to her hitherto unknown or devoid of -interest—became suddenly invested with -a new and terrible importance. -</p> - -<p> -The regiment, of course, heard betimes -of Cecil's exploit and the honours awarded -him; and, as may readily be supposed, the -mess had quite an ovation in consequence. -</p> - -<p> -For certain cogent reasons of his own, -Hew Montgomerie heard the tidings with -unmixed satisfaction. -</p> - -<p> -'In Servia—fighting in Servia, of all -places in the world!' he muttered; 'if he -only gets knocked on the head, I may find -my old place at Eaglescraig again! But -he may escape and come safely home. -Why should I not go to Servia, and mar -his future in some fashion?' he added, as a -dark and cruel expression stole into his -shifty eyes; 'but how to get there—and -where the devil is Servia?' -</p> - -<p> -Hew's ideas on geography were decidedly -vague, and even Bradshaw failed to show -how he could get there; but, intent on his -diabolical thoughts nevertheless, he -continued to think and to mutter: -</p> - -<p> -'Fighting, is he! A bullet may rid me -of him—rid me all the sooner that, no -doubt, he sets little store upon his life now. -Anyway, I should like it soon to be settled -whether I am to have Eaglescraig after all!' -</p> - -<p> -And he began to consider intently how -he could reach Servia before Cecil could -hear of his changed fortune; in what -capacity he could act when there; what -was the language spoken; where was the -money to come from with which he was to -travel? And for some days he resolved -himself into a species of committee of ways -and means, combined with many dark, cruel -and malignant thoughts. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap02"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER II. -<br /><br /> -THE COINCIDENCE. -</h3> - -<p> -On her way to Eaglescraig, -Annabelle Erroll proceeded by way -of Glasgow, and had barely -taken her seat in the compartment of a -first-class railway carriage, when a -gentleman entered, and took his place at an -opposite corner. Then the train glided -out of the station; smoky Tradeston -on the right, and the dense masses -of the ancient Gorbals on the left, were -quickly far behind, and the view on -either side became more open, as it sped -on its way; and ere long Annabelle -forgot all about her companion, in -watching the estuary of the Clyde, the rock of -Dumbarton, the mighty blue mass of Ben -Lomond, and the glorious panorama of the -hills of Argyle. -</p> - -<p> -Her companion had leisurely opened a -courier bag, and taken therefrom various -serials, without offering one to her, as she -sat with averted face, intent on the scenery. -He seemed one of those composed travellers -who can hear unmoved the scream and -whistle of any number of engines; the -startling shout of 'Change here!' as the -train pulled up at some confusing junction, -from where travellers branched off in all -directions—some the right, but many the -wrong; and where leisurely and indolent -porters spent the stirring yet monotonous -day in cramming passengers and portmanteaus -into carriages, to get rid of them as -fast as possible for the next batch of -portmanteaus and passengers, without caring -whither they went or what became of -them. -</p> - -<p> -He could see, by furtive glances over -the top of his paper, that his companion -was a tall and elegant girl, faultlessly -attired in a rich sealskin, with gold -ornaments; with feet and hands which—when -the latter left her tiny muff—were -well-shaped and small. There was a haughty -grace in the carriage of her handsome head; -she wore a smart hat, and a thick black -veil tied over her face effectually concealed -her features. He took in all this at a -glance as he settled himself to his -newspaper, while she scarcely dared to breathe, -as in him she had now recognised Leslie -Fotheringhame! -</p> - -<p> -Where was he going—what was he -doing here, in 'mufti' too? The calm, -high-bred face, to which the dark -eyebrows and thick, black, heavy moustache -imparted so much character—the face that -was ever dwelling in her memory was -before her again. In repose, she thought -it seemed older than it should have been, -or was wont to be; and when eventually -he did venture to address her, when he -smiled, it grew young and bright again, -like the face she remembered in the -pleasant time beside the Tay, and the last -season at Edinburgh. -</p> - -<p> -She saw that he had still at his watch-chain -a tiny gold locket, which she remembered -well; for it had been her gift to -him, and contained a microscopic likeness -of herself on one side, and a lock of her -golden hair on the other—or <i>had</i> done so, -when she saw it last. -</p> - -<p> -Did it contain them now, or had they -given place to memorials of—of that -other woman—a hateful and humiliating -thought! -</p> - -<p> -How she longed for an excuse or opportunity -to get into another carriage, or for -other passengers to come in, ere he -recognised her; but the train was an express -one, and no addition could be made to -their number for some time to come. -</p> - -<p> -Secure, as yet, behind the mask of her -veil, she watched him, while her heart -beat with lightning-speed, and swelled -with unavailing regret. Intent, apparently, -on his paper, he had not recognised her. -He had, of course, ceased to care for her, -she thought, when he had learned to love -that other one; and so now, her coming, -and her going, her joy and her sorrow, -were nothing to him—were less than the -snow of last winter! -</p> - -<p> -Yet she was woman enough to love him -now, when breathing the same atmosphere -with him—seated within a yard of him—to -love him, in these the days of his biting -indifference, even as she had done in those -when a smile of hers could bring him so -winningly to her side. -</p> - -<p> -'What a fool I am!' she thought; 'oh, -I hate myself! Would that I were a -man—they can so easily forget!' -</p> - -<p> -At that moment one of her bracelets -became unclasped and fell at his feet. -</p> - -<p> -He picked it up, and not sorry, perhaps, -for an excuse to address her, said simply: -'Permit me?' and clasped it round her -white and shapely wrist. -</p> - -<p> -'Thanks,' she replied as briefly; but her -voice, though low, instantly stirred a chord -in his heart; the memory of her figure -rushed upon him; he gazed keenly at -the fair face half hidden by its veil of lace. -</p> - -<p> -'Annabelle—Miss Erroll!' said he, in a -strange voice, while lifting his hat, and half -offering a hand: a motion which she ignored, -and felt herself grow pallid in being -discovered at last—pallid with something -of anger too, for, with all her natural -sweetness, Annabelle had a heart of pride. -</p> - -<p> -'We are old friends,' said he, with some -confusion or emotion of manner; 'at least -we can be that?' -</p> - -<p> -'Not even that, I fear,' said she, with -affected firmness; and then added a little -irrelevantly: 'would that I had never -come here; an express train, too—how -provoking!' -</p> - -<p> -'Is my company so hateful—or are we -to be enemies now?' -</p> - -<p> -'As you please,' she replied, with growing -irritation, for, her secret sentiments -apart, the sudden situation exasperated -her, after all that had occurred. 'To meet -you here was, at least, the last thing I -could have expected.' -</p> - -<p> -'Or wished?' -</p> - -<p> -'I have no reason for not replying in -the affirmative—yes.' -</p> - -<p> -He sighed, and for a moment looked -out of the window at the past-flying -landscape, across which the white cloud of the -engine smoke was whirling. After a -pause, he asked in a tone of assumed -indifference: -</p> - -<p> -'Are you going far by this train?' -</p> - -<p> -'Far or near cannot possibly interest -you, Captain Fotheringhame; but I may -mention that I am going to Eaglescraig -in Cunninghame.' -</p> - -<p> -'Eaglescraig!' he exclaimed, forgetting -his pretended calmness of manner. -</p> - -<p> -'And you?' she inquired, for she had a -tender interest in him, in spite of herself. -</p> - -<p> -'I am going there too,' he replied, with -the slightest twinkle of mischief in his -handsome eyes. -</p> - -<p> -'By invitation?' asked Annabelle, -aghast, conceiving that her friend Mary -had formed some scheme concerning them. -</p> - -<p> -'No; I have volunteered a visit to the -general, out of my friendship for Cecil -Falconer—or Montgomerie, we must call -him now. I have seen several notices -concerning him in the public prints; I -know all about his changed fortunes, and -I want to be of service, if I can, to him -and the old general. Thus I took this -train, by a singular coincidence.' -</p> - -<p> -'One I would have avoided, could I -have known, foreseen, what was thereby -involved.' -</p> - -<p> -'Do not say so, I implore you,' said he. -</p> - -<p> -She made no response to this; but sat -with her face resolutely turned to the -carriage window, while biting her cherry -nether lip, and with difficulty restraining -tears of vexation behind her veil; while -Fotheringhame, as he looked at her, -thought just then that no woman could -compare with her—not even Mary -Montgomerie—in his eyes; and he longed to -see her face unveiled, but dared not, in -her present mood, venture to hint of such -a wish. -</p> - -<p> -As his presence seemed to give her such -extreme annoyance, he felt half inclined -to relinquish his plan of visiting Sir Piers; -but then he had written to the latter, -announcing his intention of coming, and had -obtained two or three days' leave for that -special purpose. -</p> - -<p> -The recent tidings of Cecil in the public -prints—the brilliant exploit he had -performed in the war in Servia—'in Servia, -of all places in the world,' as Fotheringhame -said—fortunately gave this luckless -pair of travellers a kind of neutral ground -on which to meet—a neutral subject on -which to converse, apart from themselves; -but in no instance can a man and a woman -who have ever been <i>more</i> to each other -than friends meet, after parting under any -circumstances, without having emotion of -a deeper kind—be it love, or be it hate—than -ordinary individuals. Thus, ever and -anon the conversation of these two -manifested a decided tendency to take a -personal and explanatory turn; yet they sat -rigidly apart, each in their own corner of -the carriage. -</p> - -<p> -'Poor Cecil!' said Fotheringhame; 'he -may have tired of treading life's dull road -ere the report of his good fortune reaches -him—the heir of an old baronetcy and -an estate.' -</p> - -<p> -'With the affection of a dear girl like -Mary Montgomerie too!' -</p> - -<p> -'True,' added Fotheringhame, with much -sadness of tone; 'she does not forget, as -some so readily can, what Motherwell calls -"the love of life's young day." -</p> - -<p> -Thinking that, if not acting, this remark -conveyed a taunt, Annabelle said: -</p> - -<p> -'You seem somewhat changed in way -and manner since we saw each other last.' -</p> - -<p> -'If so, I have had good reason therefor.' -</p> - -<p> -'You were once gay enough, and happy too.' -</p> - -<p> -'Happy when you made me so; but -Heaven knows, Annabelle,' he exclaimed, -with sudden emotion, 'that gaiety and -pleasure have long been strangers to me.' -</p> - -<p> -'So duplicity brings about its own -punishment,' she replied, pointedly and -pitilessly. -</p> - -<p> -'Duplicity?' said he, looking up with a -surprise that seemed at least genuine; 'I -do not understand—you slighted my -visits—returned my letters——' -</p> - -<p> -'Good reason had I to do so. I had -hoped we might avoid this subject——' -</p> - -<p> -'Reason?' he queried, as her voice broke. -</p> - -<p> -'Remember your mysterious friend,' said -Annabelle, bitterly; 'she was <i>not</i> Blanche -Gordon; so who was she—what was she? -But I despise myself for asking!' -</p> - -<p> -'She was then what she is no longer -now—an unhappy creature,' was the -enigmatical reply, from which Annabelle, whose -pride revolted from making further inquiries, -drew all kinds of singular deductions. -</p> - -<p> -And now, at this crisis in their conversation, -the train stopped, and as an influx -took place of those fresh passengers so -longed for by Annabelle a short time -before, it could not be resumed in any -form, and the rest of the journey was -performed by them in silence, or nearly so. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap03"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER III. -<br /><br /> -EAGLESCRAIG ONCE MORE. -</h3> - -<p> -Mary, in the general's snug and -well-appointed old family -carriage, with a stately hammer-cloth -and heraldically bedecked panels, -awaited Annabelle at the railway station; -and though expecting Leslie Fotheringhame -at the same time, and quite prepared -to welcome him warmly as Cecil's friend -and whilom brother officer, and though -not surprised to see him arrive, she was -certainly surprised to find that he and -Annabelle had come <i>together</i>, and clapped -her little ungloved hands merrily, as she -received them, in a childlike way that -almost provoked the latter, who was a -proud and rather reserved girl. -</p> - -<p> -She coloured deeply and with positive -vexation, even under the eye of her dearest -friend, for thus arriving at the same time, -by the same train, and in the same carriage, -with Leslie Fotheringhame; and this emotion -made her more shy, more resentful to -him apparently, and more resolved to keep -as much as possible aloof from him. -</p> - -<p> -And he, piqued by this, of which he was -speedily conscious, conceived a vague and -direful jealousy of some person as yet -unknown, and it coloured his manner accordingly. -</p> - -<p> -For the first time, on this occasion, he -saw fully the soft fair face of Annabelle, as -she raised her veil, and her velvet-like lips -met those of Mary. Would they ever -touch his again? -</p> - -<p> -The weather was duly discussed, and -the advent of Snarley gave them something -to talk of, as that much-petted cur -was nestling cosily under the skin of a -man-eater that would have gobbled him -up at a mouthful; and he now welcomed -both with much yelping and effusiveness. -</p> - -<p> -Mary felt the situation of her friends to -be an awkward one, and exerted herself to -make both feel at ease, as they drove under -the evening sunshine to Eaglescraig, where -both were welcomed by Sir Piers in the -grand old dining-hall, the oak panels of -which were nearly hidden by ancestral -portraits, and from the tall windows of -which there was a noble view of mountain -and coppice, of rocky cliffs and the -far-stretching Firth of the dark blue Clyde; -and at the elbow of the host stood old -Tunley, with a silver salver of decanters -and glasses. -</p> - -<p> -'Too late for tiffin and too early for -dinner, Fotheringhame,' said the general; -'just a nip to keep the cold out, and then -the dressing-bell will ring, and Tunley will -see that you are attended to.' -</p> - -<p> -Tunley, like most of the old servants, -many of whom had been born on the -estate, had but one creed—the welfare of -the family of Eaglescraig. Their sorrow -had been sincere when 'Master Piers -come to evil,' with his father; and it had -been renewed now by the strange story of -Cecil, which had, of course, taken a -powerful hold of their fancies; thus he and -they all viewed the advent of Fotheringhame -with the deepest interest, believing -that he was in some mysterious way to -restore the wanderer to his home, and -was, indeed, but the forerunner of that -event. -</p> - -<p> -One word more about Tunley. The -poor man felt ashamed of one feature in -his past blameless life, and daily intercourse -with the general and Mrs. Garth made him -feel it keenly; for this most respectable -of British butlers had never served, even -for an hour, in the Cameronians, and this -he deemed somewhat of a blot upon his -scutcheon. -</p> - -<p> -'Mrs. Captain Garth, of course, you -remember,' said the general to Fotheringhame -(who was imbibing a liqueur glass of -mountain-dew), indicating the old lady, who -was seated in an easy-chair, holding a -hand-screen to shield her face from the glow of -the fire; 'widow of my old friend Garth -of Ours—and now, I think, we all know -each other.' -</p> - -<p> -Sir Piers had some vague idea that -there had been a flirtation—a lovers' -quarrel, or some such folly—between Leslie -Fotheringhame and Annabelle Errol; but -that was nothing to the old man—they -would square it, no doubt, if they were so -disposed. And he thought only of making -welcome his guest—a Cameronian too!—friend -of his grandson, who had been so -horribly used; and as for Annabelle, Mary -would look after her. -</p> - -<p> -Dinner duly came, and passed with the -usual commonplace conversation; the -presence of the servants precluding all from -talking freely, and conversing on the -matter nearest their hearts—the volunteer -in Servia. But Fotheringhame, from -his place by Mary's side, had but one -thought—how surpassing fair looked -Annabelle! Her dress was a plain and -simple muslin one; a blue flower of some -kind was amid the masses of her golden -hair, and the brother of it nestled amid -the soft lace in the swell of her bosom. -</p> - -<p> -After the ladies had returned to the -drawing-room, the object which had -brought him to Eaglescraig seemed half -forgotten for a time, and his thoughts had -followed her; but now the hospitable -general was pushing the decanters to and -fro; Tunley had withdrawn; and anon -Fotheringhame roused himself, for he was -full of joyous enthusiasm at distinction -won by his friend in a foreign service, -though he cordially wished that he had -never been driven to seek it there—a service -in which he had been driven by desperation -to seek a new home; and Fotheringhame -quite won the heart of the general, -who now—in all that Cecil had done and -achieved—was assured that he saw but the -reflection and reproduction of his own -character, vaguely known as 'a chip of the old -block,' and that it was from him that Cecil -inherited all this fire and spirit. He -became quite jovial, and ere the evening was -over began to sing, in a very quavering -treble, snatches of 'the old Subadahr.' -</p> - -<p> -'At the mess, we knew not what to -think of his disappearance,' said -Fotheringhame, playing with his walnuts; 'some -hinted of California and the Rocky Mountains, -others of Ballarat, the Diamond Fields -of Natal, the Cape war and the Zulus, and -everywhere else that the desperate and the -broken——' -</p> - -<p> -'The desperate and the broken!' sighed -the general, setting down an untasted glass. -</p> - -<p> -'Yes, Sir Piers—go to mend their fortunes, -to seek excitement, oblivion, and -too often to end their lives; but certainly -no man among us ever thought of Servia!' -</p> - -<p> -'It was most kind of you to volunteer -this visit, Fotheringhame, to assist me with -your advice and knowledge of a European -world that is somewhat new to me now,' -said Sir Piers, grasping his hand. -</p> - -<p> -'Not at all, Sir Piers; I would do anything -to serve Cecil. I thought two heads -might be better than one; I am younger -and more active than you— -</p> - -<p> -'But, egad, I have seen the day!' -</p> - -<p> -'And so, I thought, we must talk the -matter over at leisure, yet without delay.' -</p> - -<p> -'All right—the decanters stand with -you. And now, Fotheringhame, you are -aware of how he was a victim of a vile -scheme—how his wine was drugged by a -scoundrel whose attested confession I -possess?' -</p> - -<p> -Aware of how deep had once been the -general's interest in Mr. Hew Caddish -Montgomerie, Fotheringhame merely bowed -an assent; and, after a few minutes' silence, -inquired where he was now? -</p> - -<p> -'None know, and none care,' replied -the general, hotly; 'he has disappeared -altogether—let us hope for ever. But if -life lasts me, by the Heaven that hears -me, I shall set the honour of my boy right -and clear before the regiment, the Horse -Guards, and the world, or lay my -commission at the foot of the throne!' -</p> - -<p> -'In an affair of jealousy——' -</p> - -<p> -'Jealousy!' exclaimed the general, with -a fierce grimace; 'we settled these, and -other affairs, differently in my time, before -the service went to the dogs. Egad! I -knew a fellow, when I was a sub at -Vellore, who was shot for declining to dine -at a certain mess-table. Did you ever -hear the story?' -</p> - -<p> -'No, general!' -</p> - -<p> -'Well, you see, it happened in this way,' -began Sir Piers, who, having obtained an -audience, fell back at once into his old -Indian train of thought. 'We were -cantonned at Nussirabad, in the wild black -province of Ajmir, with the 76th Bengal -Native Infantry, when there came from -England, to join that corps, a Captain -Evelyn, a quiet and gentlemanly young -fellow, whom all liked, save some of the -76th, who, sooth to say, were nearly all -fiery rackety Irishmen, and by no means -good examples of the Emerald Isle; for -cards, brandy-pawnee, and incessant -uproar were the order of the day, and of the -night too, in every bungalow in their lines, -generally finishing at a very late hour by -breaking each other's heads with the -billiard-cues, and shying the balls out of -the windows; while they were born-devils -at pig-sticking, horse-racing, and not a -pretty ayah was safe within ten coss of -them. Such were the officers of the -<i>Moriartie-ka-Pultan</i>, for the corps had been -raised by an Irishman, and bore his name. -</p> - -<p> -'Evelyn declined to join their mess, not -on that account, but because he wished to -live economically, being engaged to a -young lady who was coming up country, -chaperoned by Mrs. Erroll, the mother of -Mary's friend, then a young and lovely -matron—a mere girl in fact, and travelling -<i>dawk</i>, as we all did in those days; and with -the utmost politeness he explained all this -to the president of the mess committee. -That personage, a certain Captain Darby -O'Dowd, swore that this was a distinct -affront to the whole corps, and that Evelyn -must be paraded about gunfire. The mess -consisted of sixteen, and as he could not -fight them all, they leisurely cast lots, and -the task fell to O'Dowd, who challenged -Evelyn, with the intimation that if -he—the valiant Darby—fell, the next in -seniority would take his place. -</p> - -<p> -'Evelyn was too high-spirited to decline -this outrageous challenge, and they met at -gunfire, in the open plain, while the sun -was as yet below the hills of Ajmir. I -remember it all as if it were yesterday, -for I had the mainguard. -</p> - -<p> -'Evelyn, thinking, no doubt, of the girl -who was far away, and whom he might -never see again, standing with his second, -worthy John Garth of Ours, pale and sad, -yet resolute in aspect, on one hand; on -the other, O'Dowd, with his second, a -Captain O'Spudd, and all the mess of the -76th, anxious to have their turn in the -shooting, grouped close by, and pale and -bloated enough they looked in the cold, -half light of the unrisen sun as it stole -across the plain, and all shaky enough with -their over-night potations. -</p> - -<p> -'"Having no personal injury to redress, -gentlemen, I decline to fire," exclaimed -Evelyn, in a loud, firm voice. -</p> - -<p> -'"Plaze yourself, me boy," replied the -relentless O'Dowd as he fired; and, shot -through the heart, poor Evelyn fell dead -on his face! -</p> - -<p> -'Even in those days there was a devil -of a row about this remarkable duel, and -it was a close shave with O'Dowd escaping -being hung for it; but a verdict of "Not -guilty" was returned, and he was killed -soon after in action by a grape-shot; and -O'Spudd died of a sunstroke in the jungle, -and was buried there in his blanket.' -</p> - -<p> -The general followed up this by many -other stories, all more or less bloodthirsty, -till his guest became somewhat silent—bored -by them, no doubt; and then he -said: -</p> - -<p> -'Fotheringhame, the sherry stands with -you—just "a white washer," and then we -shall join the ladies.' -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap04"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER IV. -<br /><br /> -THE DIVIDED PAIR. -</h3> - -<p> -Mrs. Garth was dozing dreamily -before the fire, and the two -girls were at the piano, when -the general and Fotheringhame entered -the drawing-room. -</p> - -<p> -They were idling over the instrument, -before which Annabelle was seated, and -over the keys of which Mary was -occasionally running her fingers, as if -apparently to conceal a little confidential -conversation that was in progress between -them. -</p> - -<p> -'You'll have a turn with the guns -to-morrow, Fotheringhame,' said the general, -'but you must excuse my absence; my -day is past for that sort of thing. The -rocketers I once could bring down, pass -over my head contemptuously now; and -bullfinches seem much bigger in the -hunting-field than they used to be, so I -funk them entirely, and seek a quiet gate, -as I don't like to come a spread eagle into -the field; and, by Jove! the doctor has -already hinted about a respirator. -D—n! fancy a fellow at the head of a brigade -with a respirator! I was nearly drowned -the other day, and would have been but -for Mary, when landing a twenty-pound -pike from Eaglescraig Loch; so it is time -I gave over these little vanities, and left -them to my juniors and successors; though, -Heaven knows, that if I was anxious about -my estate in this world just when it is -time to be thinking of the other, it was -not for myself, but for those who are to -come after me,' added the general in a -softened tone, for now much of the peppery -nature of the old stock-comedy guardian -had left him. 'Fond of music, Fotheringhame?' -he asked, after a pause. -</p> - -<p> -'Very.' -</p> - -<p> -'Ah; dare say we shall find you something -in that way. Mary is no bad performer.' -</p> - -<p> -'Pray excuse me—to-night,' urged Mary. -</p> - -<p> -'Then I won't excuse Annabelle,' said -the general, patting the shoulder of the -latter, while Fotheringhame drew near; -'do favour us with the little song I have -so often heard you sing with such extreme -sweetness and pathos.' -</p> - -<p> -'Which, Sir Piers?' -</p> - -<p> -'What is it? oh yes—"Love me always, -love me ever," or something of that kind. -There must be some tender association -connected with it, I am sure,' continued -Sir Piers, in utter ignorance of how his -remarks cut two ways, like a double-edged sword. -</p> - -<p> -'I have not the music—and—and I have -quite forgotten the words,' replied Annabelle, -growing painfully pale, and wishing -that the floor would open and swallow her -up, conscious that Leslie Fotheringhame -was standing at her back. The latter saw -the ill-concealed emotion that pervaded her -whole frame, and he felt keenly for her. -</p> - -<p> -'Is this girl to be, for good or for evil, -my destiny after all?' he thought, as he -regarded with his old admiration the -beauty of her refined face and her brilliant -complexion—that dazzling and wonderful -fairness which almost invariably accompanies -the possession of golden and auburn hair. -</p> - -<p> -Annabelle did not leave the piano; it -afforded her a pretext for keeping her face -turned from those around her, and, -impelled by some new emotion, she sang in -succession some of her gayest and most -effective songs, while Fotheringhame -hovered near, leaving to Mary the task of -turning the music, and steadily and keenly -he regarded the singer. Was this gaiety -real, or was she acting a part? he thought; -and seeing that he came nearer, Mary withdrew. -</p> - -<p> -'You regard me with surprise,' said -Annabelle, finding his eyes fixed on her, -and feeling a desperate necessity for -saying something. Indeed, they had scarcely -spoken since leaving the railway carriage. -</p> - -<p> -'Certainly, I am surprised,' said he; 'I -did not expect to be standing by your side -thus, and hearing your voice again.' -</p> - -<p> -Full fell the light of the chandelier on -the lovely upturned eyes that did not -soften in the least, as he hoped they would -do, at his slight allusion to the past. -</p> - -<p> -'Captain Fotheringhame,' said Annabelle, -quite calmly, and in an ordinary tone, -'you look at me as though I were somehow changed.' -</p> - -<p> -'Oh, you are not in the least changed, -he replied, in a low voice, and with a -bitter smile; 'you are volatile and—cruel as ever.' -</p> - -<p> -'Cruel!' she repeated, under cover of a -musical crash, while the colour rushed to -her cheeks and delicate neck; but she -disdained to say more, and thus, to one or -two half-broken utterances of his, finding -that she made no response, Fotheringhame -drew back and rejoined the general. -</p> - -<p> -How long was all this to go on? was -Annabelle's bitter thought. In the old -time, by the silver birches on the Tay-side, -they had met, loved, quarrelled, and -parted, she thought, for ever; but to meet -and quarrel again with just cause on one -side, with the prayer in her heart that -they might never look in each other's faces -again, and here they were now, by an -unexpected coincidence, a strange freak of -destiny, under the same roof, and in the -same room, compelled to meet at least as mutual friends! -</p> - -<p> -Thus, when they parted for the night, -his voice was as calm and his smile and -bow as coldly polite as her own. Then he -and the general withdrew to the smoking-room, -to talk over Cecil's affairs, and -scheme out some plan for his future, and -the girls gladly sought their rooms, which -adjoined each other, and plunged at once -into gossip and hair-dressing. -</p> - -<p> -For weeks and weeks past Mary's life -had been one of dull routine; she had fed -her pet birds, her pigeons, watched her -flowers, and watered her ferns, as usual; it -was such a relief to do, or be doing, -anything: but now that Annabelle Erroll had -come, she felt almost happy in her -companionship—for both had enough to talk about. -</p> - -<p> -'Have you met as acquaintances -merely?' asked Mary, with eagerness. -</p> - -<p> -'Yes; but acquaintances of a peculiar -kind, certainly. How could it be otherwise, -after all that has passed between us? I -must studiously ignore the past,' continued -Annabelle; 'nor shall his strange and -sharp allusion to it move me, save in the -way of annoyance and surprise.' -</p> - -<p> -To her it seemed very strange and -unaccountable that Leslie Fotheringhame -should adopt an indignant tone with her, -as if <i>he</i> were the wronged party, and that -she had nothing to complain of in reference -to his conduct with the unknown lady. -</p> - -<p> -'Why did he so studiously, so cruelly -deceive me?' she exclaimed, on the verge -of tears; 'but that I inherit the spirit of -my father, the old colonel, he would have -broken my heart—I loved him so!' -</p> - -<p> -'Poor Annabelle!' said Mary, caressing -her; 'twice engaged, and twice separated—you -are a curious pair. Let us hope that -the third time may prove successful and -irrevocable!' -</p> - -<p> -'Never!' exclaimed Annabelle. 'Did he -not openly tell me that she—that -woman—is happy now? What did he mean by -that?—for there was something of -mournful exultation in his tone!' -</p> - -<p> -'It is all very strange,' said Mary, in -perplexity; 'can there have been some -simple, yet perhaps inexplicable, mistake -at the bottom of this unhappy business?' -</p> - -<p> -'No, Mary—I tell you no!' replied -Annabelle, with angry energy; 'the -woman in the matter was a fact palpable -enough. And what can the unexplained -mystery of his interest in her be? and is -it not to him degradation, and to me insult?' -</p> - -<p> -'Unexplained; it might not have been.' -</p> - -<p> -'How?' -</p> - -<p> -'You forget the rejected correspondence—the -last unopened letter.' -</p> - -<p> -'Anyway,' replied Annabelle, with a -forced laugh, 'unlike the Grande Duchesse, -I shall no longer dote upon the military. -I'll look out for an easy-going parson, or -plain country gentleman, and, as Hawley -Smart says, "more weddings take place -from pique than the world wotteth of," -and Hawley is right.' Then, dropping -this tone, she twined her white arms round -her friend, and, gazing into her soft face, -said, 'Dear Mary, how poorly you are -looking!' -</p> - -<p> -'Well, have I not had much cause for -anxiety, and tears too, think you?' -</p> - -<p> -'No man, I believe now, is worth the -grief that robs a woman of her peace and -rest.' -</p> - -<p> -'Oh, Annabelle, the thought of Leslie -Fotheringhame embitters you; but I -sorrow for Cecil—and there are men and -men, remember. How strange it seems -that now I must think and speak of him -not as Falconer (his mother's name), but as -Cecil Montgomerie!' she added, with a -soft smile, gazing on vacancy. -</p> - -<p> -'I thought,' said Annabelle, after a -pause, 'that I should have died when dear -old Sir Piers so awkwardly asked me to -sing that stupid song to-night—died of -shame and mortification! Surely no -woman has ever been more thoroughly -humbled than I! How unfortunate all -this is!' she added, almost weeping with -vexation; 'mamma knew of our engagement, -and that he is my cousin. She -knows how shamefully he treated me after -the night of that most unlucky ball; and -all about that—that person—the woman -with the golden-hazel eyes; and how shall -I be able to convince her, proud, resentful, -and justly-suspicious as she is, that our -meeting here is a miserable coincidence—a -circumstance beyond my control?' -</p> - -<p> -'It looks like Fate, my dear Belle.' -</p> - -<p> -'Fate? How can you romance so after -all that has happened?' -</p> - -<p> -'What happened may be a mistake—a -coincidence, too—explainable perhaps, -though I have not much hope of that. If -dear Cecil were but home, he might clear -it all up for us. Home! when will that be? -Soon, I hope—oh, so soon!' she added, as -she kissed her friend and sought her pillow. -</p> - -<p> -Annabelle lay far into the night awake, -revolving endless schemes and conversations -in her busy little head. She naturally -longed to be gone from Eaglescraig, -and nothing but a sure knowledge that -Fotheringhame's leave was for a very brief -period, pacified her at all. That they -should be in the same house, and meeting -perpetually at the same table, was intensely -awkward under the circumstances of their -changed position. -</p> - -<p> -Annabelle felt this keenly, and thus she -sedulously avoided Leslie Fotheringhame, -who felt conscious that she did so, and -misconstrued it either into an aversion for -himself, or a regard for some other man—a -regard inspired, perhaps, by pique, or -wounded self-esteem. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap05"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER V. -<br /><br /> -A STRANGE ACCUSATION. -</h3> - -<p> -Meanwhile how fared it with -Cecil, and what was now his fate? -</p> - -<p> -He had permitted the cold, damp earth -to be heaped upon him, only moving -sufficiently—unseen in the gloom of the night -and of the hole wherein he lay—to keep -his body, though partially buried, from -being so entirely; fortunately, the would-be -assassins were satisfied that they had -effectually concealed him from the troops, -who were certainly in motion close by, -and then retired for a time, intending, as -they stated, to return shortly, and make -sure of their prey. -</p> - -<p> -The moment they were gone, though -scarcely daring to breathe, and oblivious of -many a sore and bruise, of which he -became conscious hours after, Cecil rose, -clambered out of the hollow, shook his -clothes as free as possible of the soil that -had covered him, secured his pistols in -his belt anew, and on looking to his sword, -thanked heaven that, in his fall, the steel -scabbard had saved the blade from injury. -</p> - -<p> -Drawing a long breath, a sigh of relief, -he prepared for immediate flight, though -giddy, bruised, and weak. Lights were -flitting to and fro in the farmhouse close -by, and he could actually hear the voices -of Guebhard and his Montenegrins, so not -a moment was to be lost in retiring. Even -the farmer and his people were to be -sedulously avoided, and though Cecil did -think of his horse, it was chiefly with -reference to the impossibility of recovering it. -</p> - -<p> -A sound made him shrink behind a -bush, and then he saw one of his late -assailants creeping towards the hole, softly, -slowly, stealthily, on his hands and knees, -with a yataghan in his teeth, and his eyes -turned more than once towards the house -from which he had stolen on deadly intent, -to anticipate his leader and companions, by -finishing off their victim if any life remained -in him, and obtaining the valuable diamond -ring of Palenka, the despatches and other -plunder. -</p> - -<p> -A moment he paused in his progress, -irresolutely, for the voice of a cuckoo, -roused by the recent noise, was now heard -in a tree close by; and the Black Mountaineer, -affrighted by an idea of the <i>vila</i>, -which often assumes, as the Servians also -believe, the form of that bird, let the -yataghan fall from his mouth. -</p> - -<p> -Ere he could pick it up, Cecil, whose -blood was now at fever-heat, passed his -sword twice furiously through the body of -the wretch, with his foot spurned it head-long -into the hole (where, to the bewilderment -of Guebhard and his ruffians, it was -found some time after), and then, animated -by a species of despairing energy, he hurried, -breathless and panting, stumbling heavily -at every step, into the thick wood that lay -near, intent only on immediate escape and -concealment for a time—at least till day -broke, and he could look about him; nor -did he pause in his flight until he felt -assured that some miles lay between him -and his enemies. -</p> - -<p> -A great weariness, the result of long -and over exertion of mind and body, came -over him; and on finding a dry and sheltered -place, under the branches of a great laurel -bush or tree, he fell fast asleep, fearless of -the wild hogs, of which vast numbers feed -in the woods. -</p> - -<p> -When he awoke, stiff and benumbed, a -silvery mist was rising from the dark green -foliage of the forest, and above the mist -was the blue sky and the clear bright -morning sunshine, as he began to search -for a path, which he hoped might lead him -to a highway, though such he knew, in -Servia, were only to be found in the -neighbourhood of towns. -</p> - -<p> -The sound of a cavalry trumpet at no -great distance caught his ear. It gave him -a species of electric shock, and he -remembered, that to the fears expressed by -Guebhard of troops being in the vicinity, -he no doubt owed his life. He pressed -eagerly, anxiously forward in the direction -whence the sound had come, the rabbits -scuttling briskly out of his way, as he -hurried along a narrow track; and at -length he was rewarded by reaching a -regular beaten road, on which was a long -string of horses and mules laden with -provisions, forage, and stores, proceeding under -an escort of Russian Lancers from Belgrade -to the front—direct to Tchernaieff's -headquarters, as the officer in command—a -<i>capitan</i>—informed him. -</p> - -<p> -The latter, a handsome man, kid-gloved -and glazed booted, wore a very dashing -uniform; a green tunic, piped with scarlet, -faced with black velvet and laced with -gold, and on his breast glittered the medals -he had won in the expeditions to Khiva -and elsewhere, with the orders of -St. Andrew and St. Vladimir. -</p> - -<p> -Cecil made his position, his wants, and -his recent troubles known in French, which -the Ruski spoke fluently. The latter -summoned a sergeant, who procured a horse -and some food—<i>i.e.</i>, biscuits and brandy—for -Cecil; and now his heart grew lighter -as he rode on and felt himself in perfect -safety, but not the less intent on having -public or private vengeance upon Captain -Mattei Guebhard. -</p> - -<p> -He saw once more the Morava, and -after a few hours' riding, was thankful when -the escort passed the outposts of the -Russo-Servian army at Deligrad, and he could -proceed without delay to the quarters of -General Tchernaieff. -</p> - -<p> -Inspired more than he had ever been -since he came to Servia by the sights and -sounds around him—the tents, the huts, -the batteries of artillery with their limbers -all drawn up wheel to wheel; the cavalry, -their horses picketed in close ranks or at -exercise upon the plateau; the strains of a -magnificent Russian band playing the -'Blue Danube,' and then the 'Manolo'—he -ceased to think or question himself, like -Mr. Mallock, 'Is life worth living?' He -was too young yet to find that there was -nothing in it. Since that bright summer -day when Warren Hastings, 'then just -seven years of age,' as we are told, 'lay on -the bank of a rivulet, which flows through -the old domain of his house to join the -Isis,' and registered a vow that he would, -one day, be lord of Daylesford, how many -vows of anticipated honours, wealth and -greatness have been registered, that may -never have been fulfilled! -</p> - -<p> -But some such emotion—some such hope -of a brilliant future, swelled up in the -heart of Cecil, as he dismounted from his -horse at the door of an edifice, two -sentinels before which, and the Russian flag -flying thereon, indicating it to be the -headquarters of General Tchernaieff. -</p> - -<p> -Officers and orderlies belonging to every -arm of the service, horse, foot, artillery, -engineers, hospitals and ambulances, were -passing in and out, when Cecil sent in his -name to the general, who had just come -from vespers in the little iron church, -which had been sent to him by the ladies -of Moscow, and in which he had been -depositing two or three standards recently -taken from the Turks, prior to their -transmission to the Emperor at St. Petersburg. -</p> - -<p> -Cecil's jaded aspect, his tattered uniform, -soiled, sodden, and of no particular colour -now, for the brown of the tunic and the -scarlet of the facings and braid were all of -one dingy hue, attracted some attention -among the gorgeous, and almost fantastic, -costumes of the Russian staff and cavalry -officers in the ante-room, through which he -was quickly ushered into the presence of Tchernaieff. -</p> - -<p> -The latter, who wore a short, brown -shell-jacket, with a rolling collar laced with -gold, and crimson overalls, was smoking a -huge pipe and seated at a table littered -with papers and printed journals, from -which he started up as Cecil entered, and, -drawing himself up to the full height of -his short pudgy figure, while all his short, -stubbly hair seemed to bristle, and his -wiry moustaches to stick out like those of a -cat, he eyed him with considerable sternness, -indignation, and surprise, mingled in -a face that was never at any time a very -handsome one. -</p> - -<p> -Count Palenka, who was writing at the -table, laid down his pen and eyed Cecil -with cold hauteur, even hostility, and did -not accord him the vestige of a recognition. -</p> - -<p> -'What on earth can be in the wind -now?' thought the latter, as his late -bright hopes vanished into thin smoke. -Mechanically he took the despatches from -his sabretache, and said respectfully: -</p> - -<p> -'I have the honour to deliver to your -excellency these documents, entrusted to -me by his Majesty the King.' -</p> - -<p> -'His Majesty the King does not owe you -many thanks for the haste you have made!' -replied Tchernaieff, as he somewhat rudely -snatched the papers from Cecil's hand, -while his eyes literally glared at him. -</p> - -<p> -'I do not understand this bearing of -yours, general,' said he, haughtily. -</p> - -<p> -'You may understand, however, Herr -Lieutenant, that you loitered for many -days idly at Palenka.' -</p> - -<p> -'A dislocated arm—dislocated when -fording the Morava—detained me there.' -</p> - -<p> -'A likely story, truly,' said Tchernaieff, -with growing indignation; 'why ford a -river that has bridges, and why the devil -ford it at all, before coming to the town of -Tjuprija?' -</p> - -<p> -'I lost the direct road and fell into the -river in the night. The family of the -Count——' -</p> - -<p> -'Knew not that they were harbouring a -traitor,' said Palenka, grimly. -</p> - -<p> -'A traitor, Herr Count!' exclaimed Cecil. -</p> - -<p> -'I have said it; so don't repeat my words.' -</p> - -<p> -'There must be some strange misconception -in all this,' replied Cecil, more -bewildered than indignant, perhaps; 'the -way was beset——' -</p> - -<p> -'By Captain Mattei Guebhard,' -interrupted Tchernaieff. -</p> - -<p> -'You know it!' -</p> - -<p> -'From his own lips. He is now in -camp, and very properly and duly reported -to me that he had done so; but that you -escaped him, he knows not how, after killing -one of his men, and causing, by -misadventure, the death of another.' -</p> - -<p> -Cecil was more and more bewildered by -the strange candour of Guebhard in -acknowledging the outrageous conduct of -which he had been guilty; but the injurious -treatment now so unexpectedly accorded -him, after all he had undergone, filled him -with just anger and indignation. -</p> - -<p> -'Who dares to accuse me of wrong, or -even of error?' he demanded. -</p> - -<p> -'That you will discover in time.' -</p> - -<p> -'Of what am I accused?' he continued. -</p> - -<p> -'That also you will learn in time; and -in time you may see the mines of Siberia, -if you escape death! Meanwhile you will -withdraw, and remain under close arrest. -Count Palenka, take his sword.' -</p> - -<p> -'The officer of the nearest guard can do -that. Your excellency must hold me -excused,' was the haughty and contemptuous -reply of Palenka; and a few minutes -afterwards Cecil found himself disarmed and a -prisoner under close arrest, with special -sentries guarding the door of the house, in -an apartment of which he was left to his -own bitter and confused thoughts. -</p> - -<p> -That he was the victim of some strange -and malevolent report made by Guebhard -to the general and Count Palenka, he -could not doubt; but of what nature -could that slander be? Palenka had -called him a 'traitor.' He could only be -so to King Milano Obrenovitch, and he -felt certain that no act of his own could -draw such an epithet upon him, so to -Guebhard now did the whole tide of his -fury turn. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap06"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER VI. -<br /><br /> -A FATAL PROOF FOUND. -</h3> - -<p> -Food and wine were placed before -him; he recoiled from the -former, but drank the latter -like one who had been long athirst. -</p> - -<p> -After all he had undergone, and all he -had done, to preserve and deliver in safety -these unlucky despatches, this, then, was -the grim and degrading welcome that -awaited him in the camp of the allied -Servian and Russian armies? -</p> - -<p> -What did it all mean? Some dreadful -mistake, or a false and malicious accusation, -which time must soon unravel. Meanwhile, -how difficult it was to be patient or -calm under the circumstances; and he -asked himself again and again, would -Fortune never be tired of persecuting -him? -</p> - -<p> -Would he ever forget, he had thought, -that <i>mauvais quart d'heure</i> in the place -that so nearly became his grave? and -now he was in peril as great again. -</p> - -<p> -'A traitor,' had been the epithet applied -by Count Palenka towards him. In what -way could he ever be so? Was he to be -made the victim—the scapegoat of some -dark political game, between the Servian -prince he served, and the general of the -Russian army? 'You may see Siberia -yet, if you escape death,' had been the -menace of the latter, who actually owed -his life at his—Cecil's—hands. He -recalled the words, and knowing all of which -these men were capable, and all they had -the power to do, with all his natural -courage, could not but feel appalled. -</p> - -<p> -The room to which he had been consigned -was on the upper floor of a house in -the little town of Deligrad. It had little -other furniture than a wooden divan, that -ran round it, and whereon were spread the -bear and wolf skins on which he could seat -himself, or repose at night. -</p> - -<p> -Its windows were little more than narrow -slits, and through them he could see the -camp, spreading over the low-lying -eminences which bound, on the east, the -Valley of the Morava—the long streets of -tents and huts, and little <i>tentes-d'abri</i>, the -smoke of the fires at which the soldiers -cooked their food; and the Servian tricolour -flying on a huge earthen redoubt, formed -on the summit of the most commanding -height, and armed with heavy guns, pointed -grimly towards the point from which the -Turks might be expected to approach. -</p> - -<p> -Amid these streets of tents, drums were -beaten and bugles sounded all day long; -orderlies spurred their horses to and fro, -and Servian peasants drove waggons drawn -by white bullocks, or led long lines of laden -ponies, and itinerant sutlers and vendors of -grapes and apples, sardines, tomatoes and -tobacco, etc., went incessantly about, -together with itinerant fiddlers and bagpipers. -</p> - -<p> -Beyond all this, he could see the road -winding away to Belgrade, near two long, -low, whitewashed edifices, the abodes of -suffering and death. On each a white flag -with a red cross was displayed to indicate -that they were hospitals, on which no shot -or shell must fall, even if the infidels -succeeded in storming the heights of Djunis, -which overhang the other side of the Morava. -</p> - -<p> -Daily Cecil watched all this from his -windows, till his soul sickened at it all and -of inaction, after the fierce excitement of -recent events; but after a week had elapsed, -the clash of arms, as the two sentinels at -the door accorded a salute to some visitors, -followed by the clatter of spurs and steel -scabbards on the wooden staircase of the -house, preceded the entrance into Cecil's -room of an officer in the uniform of the -Servian staff, the provost-marshal and a -gentleman in civilian costume, who -announced himself as the deputy minister -of police from Belgrade, and who was -attended by a subordinate in a kind of uniform. -</p> - -<p> -'Police?' replied Cecil, in an inquiring -tone; 'it is, then, some civil—error that I -am accused of?' -</p> - -<p> -'No error at all, Herr Lieutenant; but -of a crime against the State,' replied the -civilian—a black-bearded man, with the -ribbon of the Takova cross at his lapelle—in -a somewhat gruff manner. 'Information -has been lodged with the authorities that -you have, or have borne about you, papers -of a treasonable nature.' -</p> - -<p> -'Lodged, by whom?' -</p> - -<p> -'Captain Mattei Guebhard.' -</p> - -<p> -Cecil laughed, but angrily, nevertheless. -</p> - -<p> -'Herr Lieutenant,' said the provost-marshal, -a grim-looking old sabreur, 'you -may find this a hanging, and not a -laughing, matter!' -</p> - -<p> -'Thus,' continued the deputy minister of -police, 'we have orders to examine your -person for secret papers, if, by the delay -foolishly accorded to you, they have not -been destroyed.' -</p> - -<p> -'Papers—what papers?' -</p> - -<p> -'That, as yet, can only be known to -yourself.' -</p> - -<p> -On this his attendant made a pace -towards Cecil, who haughtily motioned -him by his hand to pause, ere he laid a -hand upon him. -</p> - -<p> -'You delivered the despatches of General -Tchernaieff to the King at Belgrade?' -resumed the police official. -</p> - -<p> -'To the King—yes.' -</p> - -<p> -'Don't repeat my words, please!' -</p> - -<p> -'Mein Herr?' -</p> - -<p> -'I say, don't repeat my words!' exclaimed -the other, who manifested rather a -disposition to bully. 'You tarried -unnecessarily at the castle of Palenka?' -</p> - -<p> -'I met with an accident, of which the -general is, I presume, fully aware, though -the count seems somewhat dissatisfied,' -said Cecil, in whom this questioning -excited surprise and indignation, rather than -alarm. -</p> - -<p> -'There you met Captain Guebhard?' -</p> - -<p> -'To my sorrow, and no small disgust, I did.' -</p> - -<p> -'And though unable, as you averred, to -proceed, you refused to give him the -documents; but conveyed them in a contrary -direction from the camp, with what purpose -is best known to yourself; and but for the -circumstance of your meeting an escort of -Servian troops, the general would never -have received them at all?' -</p> - -<p> -'This statement is false in its tenor,' -replied Cecil, haughtily; 'and I am utterly -in the dark as to your inferences.' -</p> - -<p> -'Ah—indeed! Permit me to examine -your sabretache.' -</p> - -<p> -'It is empty.' -</p> - -<p> -'We shall see,' replied the official, as he -unbuckled the accoutrement so named, and -which was suspended by three slings from -the waistbelt. 'What have we here?' he -added, as he drew from an inner pocket, -which Cecil never knew it possessed, a -small parchment document, and uttered a -genuine cry of astonishment; 'here is -enough to hang a battalion!' he added. -'Herr Lieutenant, here we find you in -open communication with the Pretender, -Kara Georgevitch!' -</p> - -<p> -'Who the deuce is he?' asked Cecil, -with equally genuine surprise. -</p> - -<p> -'Do not pretend ignorance, and thus -add to the crime for which you will be so -severely punished, that I am actually sorry -for you,' replied the deputy minister of -police, regarding Cecil with great sternness -nevertheless. 'Here is your commission -as colonel—bearing your own name—to -raise a regiment of Montenegrin deserters, -for the service of Kara Georgevitch—the -exile—the outlaw—the Pretender to the -Servian throne, to whom, no doubt, you -intended to convey alike the King's -despatches and the general's plan of the campaign!' -</p> - -<p> -'Impossible—you are under some -delusion,' said Cecil, with anger now. -</p> - -<p> -'I need scarcely ask you to look upon -what you know already exists,' replied the -other, with some indignation, and then -holding the document before the eyes of -Cecil, who saw plainly and undoubtedly -that it was all he stated it to be, and his -name written there as 'Cecil Falconer,' -and that, among other signatures, that of -Kara Georgevitch was appended to it. -</p> - -<p> -So completely was he bewildered by this -strange circumstance, that he permitted the -document to be taken away before he had -farther examined it; and while a drawn -sword was placed against his heart, the -pockets of his uniform, and even the lining -thereof, were roughly examined for other -treasonable papers, after which his visitors -retired, and he was left—astounded—to -his own reflections. -</p> - -<p> -He was the victim of a deep-laid scheme -by Guebhard. He saw it all, and in his -suppressed passion could scarcely -breathe—yes, he saw it all now; but how to -prove it? Failing to abstract or obtain by -fair means the despatches at Palenka, for -the information of this Kara Georgevitch, -with whom the fact of having this—probably -blank—commission proved him to -be in communication—he had beset the -way, and finding that Cecil baffled him, -had now brought this false accusation -against him. -</p> - -<p> -He remembered the warning of Margarita, -and that he had detected Guebhard -meddling with his sabretache. Could he -doubt, now, that he had intended to -abstract the despatches on one hand, while -concealing in it this perilous and already -prepared document on the other? -</p> - -<p> -It was not until a day or two more had -elapsed that Cecil understood his peril -fully or what the involvement meant, and -that there were two claimants to the -Servian throne—Milano Obrenovitch the -successful one, now reigning, and Kara -Georgevitch, a pretender. It was a -position exactly the same as if some one in -Scotland, in the days of 'the Forty-Five,' -had been found with a commission to -raise a regiment of Highlanders for 'King -James VIII.;' and thus Cecil found himself, -as yet, in a predicament of no ordinary -magnitude, in which those for the prosecution -would have it all their own way, and -the defence, conducted by himself, must -seem weak indeed. -</p> - -<p> -Again and again, Pelham, Stanley, and -one or two other kind-hearted Englishmen, -who, in search of a 'new sensation,' were -taking a turn of service against the Turks, -endeavoured to visit him, and to take some -measures for his safety; but all were -bluntly refused access to the prison in -which he lay, for so closely was the house -guarded, that it became a prison in reality now. -</p> - -<p> -He lost heart—his spirits began to sink -under the rigid confinement to which he -was subject, and his doubt and anxiety as -to the future issue of the whole affair. He -had about him a confused and dazed feeling, -such as he had not possessed since he -had been in the castle of Edinburgh, and -the time of the fatal ball; and as the -hours passed by him in solitude, and the -detested details of his room—the pattern -of the paper on its walls, the divan that -bordered them, the skins that lay thereon, -the cracks in the ceiling and the bare -planking of the floor—seemed to become -photographed on his brain, and the senseless -jingle of silly airs, the words of absurd -rhymes, recurred to him again and again -with that provoking but persistent reiteration -so common to all—at least to many—when -their minds are tortured by doubt or -calamity. -</p> - -<p> -Seated there in that prison-room, hearing -the sounds of the adjacent camp by day, -and by night only the measured tread of -the Russian sentinels without, as they trod -silently and monotonously to and fro on -their posts, Cecil—looking back through -the receding vista of the past, and the -latter and most bitter portion of his career -in which Mary Montgomerie bore a part, -was often on the point of asking himself -whether it was not a dream rather than a -reality, that brief and happy reminiscence -of their love; and whether it did not -pertain to a life in past ages and under -some different phase of existence. In -short, his thoughts, under the high-pressure -put upon him, became rather wild and -incoherent at times. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap07"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER VII. -<br /><br /> -CECIL'S VISITOR. -</h3> - -<p> -From the monotony of his moody -and irritating reflections he was -roused one day by the entrance -of a visitor, and he started on finding -himself face to face with Margarita Palenka, -who had come to the camp on horseback, -escorted by old Theodore, the veteran of -Sadowa. Her eyes were full of unshed tears, -as she gave Cecil her hand, and it was -impossible for him to behold this beautiful -girl's sympathy unmoved. -</p> - -<p> -'How can I ever thank you,' said he, -'for all this deep and kindly interest in -me—almost a stranger?' -</p> - -<p> -'I fear the worst, from what my brother -says,' she replied in a low and husky -voice. -</p> - -<p> -'The worst—death?' -</p> - -<p> -'Better that than—Siberia!' -</p> - -<p> -'So say I,' was Cecil's grim response; -and then he added hotly: 'I am a British -subject; how dare they menace me with -such a fate?' -</p> - -<p> -'A British subject once—a Servian -soldier now,' said she, gravely. -</p> - -<p> -Cecil thought of the old Cameronians, -and his heart seemed to swell painfully, -while he eyed with some contempt the -brown sleeve of his Servian tunic. -</p> - -<p> -Margarita had come to Deligrad, we -have said, on horseback; thus a brown -riding-habit—almost claret-coloured in tint, -out of compliment to the Servian uniform, -and like it faced with scarlet and laced -with gold—set off her magnificent bust and -figure generally. A smart hat encircled -by a white ostrich feather, with white -riding gauntlets, made up a costume that -was altogether very effective, and became -the brilliant and striking character of her -beauty. -</p> - -<p> -At her left breast she wore the bright -ribbon of St. Catherine of Russia, procured -for her by Tchernaieff, and given to ladies -of rank alone. -</p> - -<p> -'Think not ill of me for this visit,' said -she after a pause, and when he led her -to a seat on the divan; 'I have come to -comfort you, when none other dare attempt -it—to save you if I can, and none other -dare attempt that either, or is perhaps -inclined to do so.' -</p> - -<p> -She felt the peculiarity, the delicacy of -her position; and Cecil felt it too, with a -rush of gratitude in his heart—all the -greater, no doubt, that she was so beautiful -in person, and winning in manner. -</p> - -<p> -Intensely interested as she had found -herself to be in the fortunes and safety of -a young stranger; knowing the wiles and -the vengeance of which he was assuredly -the victim, and all that he had to apprehend -in the present and in the future, sleep -had almost deserted the eyes of Margarita -for some nights past, and thus their lids -were inflamed and her face looked wan. -For hours, without retiring to bed, she had -been wont to sit musing by the windows of -her room, watching the stars as they shone -above the dark woods of Palenka, and -listening to the distant roar of the Morava, -till inaction became torture, and she made -up her mind to ride to Deligrad, to -discover the truth of all the alarming stories -that had reached her and the old countess, -and also what she could do to serve—if -possible to save him. -</p> - -<p> -Hence her most unexpected visit to Cecil. -</p> - -<p> -'When you warned me to beware of -Mattei Guebhard,' said he, 'I could little -imagine, or anticipate, all he can be -capable of.' -</p> - -<p> -'And I little thought, when we parted -at Palenka, to see you again,' said she, -with something pathetic in her voice; 'and -less than all, under such circumstances as -the present.' -</p> - -<p> -'But you do not believe—you cannot believe——' -</p> - -<p> -'About the commission? No—of course -not: the idea of your being colonel of a -regiment of such wretches as the Black -Mountaineers is too absurd! Savages -whose tastes for strong waters, the -property of their neighbours, and the noses, -ears, and even the skulls of their enemies, -are proverbial,' she added with a shudder. -'Besides, I understand that you never even -heard of Kara Georgevitch?' -</p> - -<p> -'Never before. I knew not there was -such a person in existence.' -</p> - -<p> -'How singular! I have met him often -at Vienna; danced with him at the palace -on the west side of Innerstadt, and know -that he—admired me very much,' she -added, with a little smile. -</p> - -<p> -'His commission had my name in it, my -accusers assert.' -</p> - -<p> -'I do not yet understand the mystery of -that—though how it came into your -possession is plain enough to me.' -</p> - -<p> -'And to be accused of killing a couple -of Montenegrins——' -</p> - -<p> -'Who would have killed you if they -could! The concealed paper was a <i>dernier -ressort</i>, in case you escaped them. Oh, it -is all so like the subtle and elaborate villany -of Mattei!' -</p> - -<p> -'And how absurd is the accusation that -I meant to carry away the King's despatches -for the service of Kara Georgevitch or -the Turks, when I risked life to defend -them!' -</p> - -<p> -'Time will unravel all this—meantime, I -shall watch over you, if I can,' said she, -almost tenderly, holding out her hand to -him ungloved, with a pretty yet imperious -air, as if to show its whiteness and beauty, -for she was a coquette to the tips of her -fingers. -</p> - -<p> -He touched it very lightly, but instead -of retaining it, as she doubtless expected, -drew back—as if to avoid temptation, she -seemed to think, for she said haughtily: -</p> - -<p> -'You forget yourself, sir, or me!' -</p> - -<p> -'Would that I could do so!' said Cecil. -</p> - -<p> -The gentleness of his tone, the sadness -and bewilderment of his air, touched her; -she took his hand deliberately in both hers, -and kissing him on the forehead with warm -and throbbing lips, said: -</p> - -<p> -'My brother's preserver and my brother's -friend! I repeat that I have come to serve -you and save you, if I may—to see you -and comfort you at least, in a land where -you are so utterly friendless.' -</p> - -<p> -Her voice broke a little. -</p> - -<p> -'By whose permission did you reach me?' -asked Cecil hastily, and apparently oblivious -of her emotion. -</p> - -<p> -'That of Tchernaieff—he could not refuse me.' -</p> - -<p> -'Who that looked upon your face could -refuse you anything!' he exclaimed, more -in a spirit of gallantry than anything else. -</p> - -<p> -'I detest compliments; so seek not to -flatter me.' -</p> - -<p> -'Nay, flattery exists not in paying praise -due to beauty or merit, but in praise -misplaced.' -</p> - -<p> -After a pause, Cecil said with a smile: -</p> - -<p> -'Surely you never, at any time, loved -this man Mattei Guebhard?' -</p> - -<p> -'I never did so,' said she, emphatically; -'but, I once said before, I could not help -him loving me. I have never loved anyone; -and moreover I shall never—marry!' -</p> - -<p> -Now Cecil had known and seen enough -of the world to be aware that when a -handsome young woman declares her -intention of never marrying, it becomes one -of the broadest hints a man can receive; -and, under all the circumstances, he heard -her now with a perplexity that bordered on -irritation. -</p> - -<p> -At such a time cold reason might -suggest that Mary Montgomerie, and his -country too, were lost to him for ever! In -Servia was his new home; Margarita was -beautiful, anxious to serve him and to win -his gratitude—too evidently his love, if she -could. Just rage at Guebhard invited him -to meet her half-way; but the image of -Mary came before Cecil, and he thought: -</p> - -<p> -'Montrose was right in his song—"Love -one, and love no more!"' -</p> - -<p> -He was perfectly conscious that some -time or other, at Palenka, he <i>had</i> spoken -of love to Margarita; but was then -referring to his love of Mary Montgomerie; -while she had believed that he was in some -curious way pleading his own cause with -herself. -</p> - -<p> -There was even now a struggle going on -in the heart of Margarita, between her -mind and her affections; and though -eventually it seemed as if the latter would -conquer, some sense of propriety, of what -society and training inculcated, and the -moral force of her own spirit, did battle -against them; and then, moreover, she -was not without some dread of her brother -the Count of Palenka. -</p> - -<p> -Despite all this, and her recent coquettish -announcement that she could never -love, and would never marry any man, -Cecil found her coming to the point with -him and taking the initiative, piqued -perhaps that he was the only man she -had never yet subdued; and so, before he -knew very well how it had all come to -pass, or by what she had prefaced it, he -was startled by her saying in her most -dulcet Servian: -</p> - -<p> -'So you think, dear Cecil, I could make -your life a happy one?' -</p> - -<p> -She asked this softly, yet a little -imperiously, while flicking the skirt of her -riding-habit impatiently with her switch, -and with downcast looks, as Cecil paused -in perplexity, thinking, 'What had he said -to draw this forth?' -</p> - -<p> -'Surely I am not so uncivilised; I don't -ever paint and powder, like all the -English girls I saw at Vienna!' she added. -</p> - -<p> -'But,' said poor Cecil, who thought he -had perils enough to encounter, without -thus being 'run to earth,' and having -this perplexity added to them, by an -impulsive girl, who probably had something -Hungarian and Italian in her blood, -inherited from the old heyduc; 'but they -don't all wear paint and powder—and one -girl I knew at home certainly did not do so.' -</p> - -<p> -This was, to say the least of it, an -unfortunate speech. -</p> - -<p> -'One,' said Margarita, with a flash in -her eyes; 'who was she?' -</p> - -<p> -'One of whom you remind me—at times,' -he replied, thinking to compliment her by -saying that which was simply untrue. -</p> - -<p> -'<i>Who</i> was she—who <i>is</i> she—one you -cared for?' -</p> - -<p> -'Not as I care for you,' replied Cecil -unwisely, yet truthfully enough; 'but long -ago—ah, how long ago it seems—she -passed out of my life, and I out of hers.' -</p> - -<p> -'She is dead, then?' -</p> - -<p> -'Yes—to me.' -</p> - -<p> -'To the world, you mean—so she is in a -convent, then?' said Margarita, readily -adopting the idea suggested by herself. -</p> - -<p> -'You have no need to be jealous of her,' -said Cecil. -</p> - -<p> -'Nor am I,' replied Margarita proudly, -and still switching her riding-skirt. -</p> - -<p> -'Was she like me, as you say?' -</p> - -<p> -'Handsome, with perfect features—<i>mignonne</i> -face, and——' -</p> - -<p> -'Enough—let us talk of ourselves now,' -said Margarita softly, and then Cecil -found himself adopted and placed—he -feared—on the footing of an accepted -lover, without having attempted to play -the character, in any way. -</p> - -<p> -What might be the result, if this too -evident regard for him turned to hatred -under his coolness? He remembered the -well-known couplet in Congreve's 'Mourning -Bride,' and became filled with positive -apprehension, if it be true that there is 'no -fury like a woman scorned.' -</p> - -<p> -Platonism was evidently a <i>rôle</i> she did -not understand; and when any suspicion -of his doubts or hesitation occurred to her, -her full proud lips curled, her dark eyes -flashed, and a flush crossed her cheek. But -how was he to indulge in love-making—and -still more in affecting such, environed by -perils as he was then. -</p> - -<p> -It was but too evident that Margarita, -like most coquettes, had fallen a victim -to herself at last, and was actually pining -for a man who had never spoken to her -more than words of the merest friendship -and thanks; and but for the memory of -Mary, and a sentiment of chivalry that -mingled with his love for her, Cecil, under -all the circumstances of his position, might -have yielded to the temptation that beset -him, and at all hazards have become the -lover of this Servian girl, whose wild -impulses came to her with the mixed blood -of more than one fiery race; and who, -hence, could not be judged of by the same -standard as an English girl of the same -position. -</p> - -<p> -At last she rose to retire. -</p> - -<p> -'I cannot conceal from you, that, from -all I hear, your peril is very great,' said -she, nervously attempting to button her -riding gauntlets, a task which Cecil hastened -to perform for her. -</p> - -<p> -'I shall demand a court-martial!' he exclaimed. -</p> - -<p> -'Palenka tells me that such will not be -accorded to you.' -</p> - -<p> -'What then?' -</p> - -<p> -'By the fiat of the King, through the -minister of police, you may be—will be—I -cannot speak it,' she continued in a broken -voice, as her tears fell fast, and her head -drooped for a moment on his shoulder; -'rather let me aid you to escape, and fly -this place for ever. Have you money?' -</p> - -<p> -'None.' -</p> - -<p> -'That shall be my care—and horses too, -by which to reach the frontier of Bulgaria, -about fifty miles from this, where you will -be comparatively safe. But how to get -you out of this place—and how to elude -these Russian sentinels at the door, are the -difficulties that appal and bewilder me!' -</p> - -<p> -'Margarita, the idea of flight is most -repugnant to me—it looks so like timidity -and confession of guilt.' -</p> - -<p> -'They are determined to deem you -guilty, I fear, under any circumstances. -You have but yourself to consider, and—me.' -</p> - -<p> -'But without a guide——' -</p> - -<p> -'Fear not for that—I shall provide you -with a guide too,' she replied with a -bright and tender smile; and so ended -this strange interview, which, for a little -time at least, had served to lure him -from his troubles, yet had added to -his perplexity; for he felt that if -Margarita saved him from impending peril—and -that she would do so at all hazard he never -doubted—that circumstance would load him -with a debt of gratitude which the devotion -of his future life could—in her -estimation—alone repay! -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap08"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER VIII. -<br /><br /> -BAFFLED! -</h3> - -<p> -There could be no doubt that -Cecil had interested Margarita -tenderly and deeply. She had -studied him closely; she was acute, and -had gathered, from much he had mentioned -incidentally at Palenka, that he had been -unfortunate already in life, young though -he was, and that he had 'a history,' as -Mary Montgomerie and Annabelle Erroll -had surmised before. -</p> - -<p> -She guessed that his boyhood and youth -had not been quite happy, and this, more -from his reserve concerning them than -from confessions made. She gathered, too, -that over his early years no father's love -or protection had been thrown; that he -had no brother or sister, but had possessed -a mother on whose memory he doted, and -at the mention of whose name she saw -the expression of his eyes soften, and heard -at times his voice grow tremulous; and -she loved him all the more for the little -halo of mystery that seemed to surround him. -</p> - -<p> -And she had remarked, with pain, how -the rich gloss had left his dark brown hair, -and that there were haggard lines about -his eyes and mouth; and that much of the -soldierly <i>débonnaire</i> frankness and manner -in his bearing was gone now. -</p> - -<p> -Empowered by the possession of Tchernaieff's -signed permission 'for the bearer -to visit the prisoner,' and encouraged by -the absence of her brother Palenka at the -headquarters of General Dochtouroff, she -came again at noon to make final arrangements -for his escape and flight. -</p> - -<p> -'But how to get out of Deligrad?' said -he, after their first greetings were over; -and here we may mention that, literally, -<i>grad</i> means a fortress in that part of the world. -</p> - -<p> -'That will be my task,' replied Margarita. -</p> - -<p> -'But to fly, like a coward, or a criminal!' -</p> - -<p> -'I wish you could fly like a bird,' said -she, playfully. 'Heed not scruples—what -scruples have these people with you? -There is no shame in such a flight. -Believe me, Cecil, I do not speak -unadvisedly. If you would be a living man—at -the least an unfettered prisoner, being -taken you know not whither,' she -continued, in a voice that suddenly broke, -'you must be out of Deligrad to-morrow -night. Let us not waste time. Listen, -and obey me; I will find the occasion, the -means, the guide, a sure means of escape, -if you will but avail yourself of them.' -</p> - -<p> -Did she mean to accompany him in his -flight? He half feared so, not knowing -how far the wild impulses of this fair -continental might carry her; but he was not -left long in doubt. -</p> - -<p> -'Once clear of Deligrad and the advanced -posts,' said she, 'you will proceed -by Banga and Nissa, but that town must -be avoided, as it is fortified with ramparts, -palisades, and closely-watched gates; then -by Mustapha-pacha or Glana; but that -being a fortress, must be avoided too; and -once beyond Stolo, oh, Cecil, we shall be -safe!' -</p> - -<p> -'<i>We?</i>' -</p> - -<p> -'I must accompany you to ensure your -safety; it is only some fifty miles; and if -my share in your flight is discovered, as it -is sure to be, what will be my fate? Then -Bulgaria or cold Britain must be my -abiding-place, after all.' -</p> - -<p> -'<i>Nous verrons</i>,' was the dubious response -of Cecil, as he took her hand in his, and -her eyes drooped. 'And your plan?' he -asked, with an ill-repressed smile. -</p> - -<p> -'Ottilie—you remember Ottilie; she is -a tall girl; and will come hither about -dusk, armed with a pass, and wearing the -cap and capote of a Russian officer. Clad -in this costume, you take her place and -pass out; she will give you the parole, -when I get it.' -</p> - -<p> -'Leaving her here?' -</p> - -<p> -'Yes.' -</p> - -<p> -'And what will be her punishment?' -</p> - -<p> -'Palenka will save her, I have not the -slightest doubt.' -</p> - -<p> -'Could he not, then, save you? Is there -no other plan?' -</p> - -<p> -'Listen to me,' she continued, -impetuously. 'To give each of the sentinels -a cup of drugged vodka would be easy -enough, and doubtless they would drink -them to the last drop. I have seen such -things done on the stage at the theatre in -Vienna, and read of such things again and -again in romances; but they would be -discovered asleep on their post, ere you were -clear of this—so the disguise is the most -perfect plan, and the darkness will favour it.' -</p> - -<p> -As they spoke their hands were fondly -linked for a time—his, in a spirit of purest -gratitude; hers, passionately—there was -no concealing that! -</p> - -<p> -'You will give the parole,' she -continued, in a low voice, 'and pass on to -the group of cottages lying yonder in the -hollow on the right of the camp, and there -old Theodore will be waiting with horses -when the evening gun is fired. No more; -you know all, and now I must be gone.' -</p> - -<p> -'Farewell, Margarita; to me you are a -protecting angel—yet, ere you go——' he -bent down and kissed her, as her face fell on his neck. -</p> - -<p> -'Regard me as a sister,' she faltered: -and in a moment more he was alone, with -a confused sense of not having exhibited -sufficient gratitude or regard for one who -was risking so much for him. -</p> - -<p> -After she was gone the hours passed -slowly, while Cecil remained sunk in -thoughts that were far from being pleasant. -</p> - -<p> -Times there were when he felt sullenly -and doggedly resigned to the inevitable, -whatever it might be—to await what fate -had in store for him. His essay in a new -country, a new service and field, for -laudable ambition, had proved a miserable and -total failure, and life seemed to have no -prize for him now that was worth consideration. -</p> - -<p> -Other times there were when a fierce -gust of impatience and indignation -possessed him, and he paced his room like a -caged lion—impatience of coercion and -just indignation at the severe treatment to -which he was subjected, the unjust suspicion -under which he lay, and the dangers -which menaced him at the hands of the -ignorant, prejudiced, and uninquiring -officials at whose mercy he found himself. -</p> - -<p> -Thus he fell the more readily into -Margarita's scheme of seeking safety in flight, -and so ending all connection between -himself and the Servian army. -</p> - -<p> -'Death or Siberia—death or Siberia! -What manner of death?' he would ask of -himself; 'a soldier's, surely?' -</p> - -<p> -He felt sometimes, in his over-tension of -thought, that peculiar emotion which many -must have experienced—as though he was -not himself, but had two separate identities; -and that the old self was far away -from that prison room, before the windows -of which the two Russian sentinels seemed -to tread for ever to and fro, with their -bayonets glittering within arm's length of him. -</p> - -<p> -Were misfortune and he to go for ever -hand in hand? He deemed that already -he had offered up hostages, bitterly, to evil -destiny, when he was thrust out of his -beloved regiment, when he lost Mary, and -was cast, nameless, on the world; and -lo! the hand of fate was on him again, and -more heavily than ever. -</p> - -<p> -And ever and anon a gust of rage at -Guebhard shook his breast, with a longing -for just vengeance upon him. Guebhard -was evidently one of those strange and -pernicious creatures who crop up at rare -times in all phases of society, and have -existed in all ages of mankind—one of a -miserable band of men who, according to -an essayist, resemble the lowest animals -of creation, and are far more pitiless when -their hate or hunger are raised. 'They -are as crafty as they are cruel; they watch, -wait, and see whom they can destroy, and -outrage every feeling dear to the majority -of mankind; and to call such men brutes is -to throw scorn upon creatures who may -be considered superior to them in every -way.' -</p> - -<p> -Such a man was Mattei Guebhard! -</p> - -<p> -Cecil could punish him, certainly, by -carrying off Margarita, and taking her for -ever beyond his reach; but how was -he—Cecil—a fugitive in Bulgaria, without a -ducat in his pocket, to subsist there, and -with a beautiful girl on his hands, unless -he offered his sword and his services to -Osman Pasha, whose army was ere long -to advance upon Plevna? -</p> - -<p> -Anything—any risk—he thought, was -better than utter inaction. The suspense -of his position was intolerable; and it -would be easier, he imagined, when the -worst had come, whatever it was, when it -was faced, and all was over for ever! -</p> - -<p> -So the day passed slowly on towards -evening; the sounds in the busy and -crowded camp began to lessen and nearly -die away; sunset drew near, and the in-lying -pickets were beginning to fall in with -greatcoats and knapsacks, and Cecil looked -from time to time towards the group of -white walled cottages, shadowed by dark -cypresses, in the hollow near the camp, -where even now, perhaps, old Theodore -awaited him with the horses, and his heart -leaped when suddenly the evening-gun -boomed from the earthen rampart on the -summit of the position, and the Servian -tricolour came fluttering down the staff as -it was struck for the night. -</p> - -<p> -Steps sounded on the wooden stairs, and -a personage entered, clad in Russian -uniform, ushered by the serjeant of the guard. -The moment the latter withdrew, Ottilie, -for it was she, divested herself of a false -beard and moustache of grizzled hair, and -it seemed strange to see suddenly the -smooth and handsome face, the dark -laughing eyes and pouting lips of the -pretty Servian girl. -</p> - -<p> -She wore the deep peak of a flat -Russian forage-cap well down over her face, -which was also further hidden by the high -fur-collar of a long regimental grey capote, -which reached nearly to the ground, and -in them she proceeded at once to invest -Cecil, saying that Theodore awaited him -at the appointed place. -</p> - -<p> -Obedient to the will of her mistress, -Ottilie, poor girl, seemed to have none of -her own, and had no fear for herself save -in disobeying the orders of Margarita. -</p> - -<p> -Cecil, even now, lingered in adopting -the costume she brought him—lingered -with mingled repugnance and rage at -having to adopt such a <i>rôle</i>. Then came -an emotion of disgust at a service which -forced such a <i>rôle</i> upon him, mingled with -a longing for the freedom proffered, and so -close at hand. Already, in fancy, he -seemed to be in the open air—the free -breezy atmosphere, at liberty, and in the -saddle, galloping on and on towards the -Bulgarian frontier; already he seemed to -feel the horse under him; to be inhaling -the perfume of night, the fragrance of the -pine-forests by the broad-flowing Morava; -but then he thought of the girl whom he -was to leave in his place, and his heart -died within him! -</p> - -<p> -She covered her face with her hands, -and, while she wept bitterly, exclaimed, in -broken accents: -</p> - -<p> -'Oh, Herr Lieutenant, I have destroyed -you! I have forgotten the pass-word!' -</p> - -<p> -'Perhaps it is as well,' said he, with -stern composure; 'but don't weep, my -brave girl, and, hush! cloak yourself again, -some one is coming.' -</p> - -<p> -Steps, voices, and lights were all on the -creaking stairs without, and the guard on -the house were now under arms in front -of it. Who were coming? What had -caused an alarm? Had the plot of -Margarita been discovered. -</p> - -<p> -'Quick, disguise yourself and begone—you -have not a moment to lose,' exclaimed -Cecil, compelling Ottilie to resume her -costume and prepare to withdraw; and it -seemed to him that while life lasted, if for -thirty years, as it might do now only for -thirty minutes, he would never forget the -memory of those voices and steps on the -staircase, or the glare of light that -streamed under the door across the bare -floor of his room. -</p> - -<p> -The idea of resistance, mad and desperate, -of shooting down the first man who -entered (for Ottilie had given him pistols), -occurred to Cecil; but only to be -relinquished, as he thought of the poor girl -whom he might involve in ruin if he shed -blood; and, throwing the weapons to the -other end of the apartment, he drew -himself proudly up to await whatever fate had -in store for him now; and he did not -doubt that it was terribly close and finally -arranged, when, among the group who -entered, he recognised his former grim -visitors, the deputy minister of police, -and the provost-marshal of the camp! -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap09"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER IX. -<br /><br /> -CROSS PURPOSES. -</h3> - -<p> -'Good morning, Fotheringhame,' -said Sir Piers, as his -guest entered the breakfast-room -betimes, in shooting-costume, and -ready for the preserves; 'I trust that -Eaglescraig air and Eaglescraig claret and -whisky brought you pleasant dreams.' -</p> - -<p> -'There are other and better adjuncts -here to suggest pleasant dreams,' replied -Fotheringhame, as his eye rested for a -moment on the two young ladies, and he -gave his hand to Mrs. Garth, after which -an animated discussion about sport -ensued between him and the general, while -Mary and Annabelle idled over their -letters. -</p> - -<p> -Leslie Fotheringhame was one of those -kind of men of whom little is usually seen -when staying in a country house; thus, -short though his visit was to be, and -important the object which brought it about, -all the day subsequent to his arrival he -was beating the covers, and after the -partridges, with old Sandy Swanshot the -keeper. -</p> - -<p> -Was Annabelle disappointed in this? we -are forced to admit that she was piqued -by it, however. -</p> - -<p> -Like many social monomaniacs, Mrs. Garth -considered herself an able tactician, -and thought to set matters right between -these sundered twain; but in this instance -she failed signally, especially with -Annabelle; there seemed something mysterious -in the quarrel, their relation to each other, -and their mutual sentiments, which the old -lady could not fathom. -</p> - -<p> -Annabelle was very bitter on the subject. -</p> - -<p> -'His presence here is an insult to me, -Mary,' said she, after watching him cross -the lawn, and disappear with the keeper -and the dogs; 'and every time his eyes -meet mine, they seem to be examining -me, as if to learn how I bear his defection.' -</p> - -<p> -'If I can read eyes aright, they wear a -very different expression, Annabelle,' said -Mary; 'but his presence here with you is -indeed a singular coincidence.' -</p> - -<p> -'After what happened in Perthshire, -Mary, I made myself too cheap in -Edinburgh, when we met again; and truth to -tell you, darling, though I cannot hate—but -love him still,' she continued, with her -eyes flashing through unshed tears; 'I -must hate myself for doing so—and despise -myself for my infatuation. That my regard -should be too lightly, too easily won, and -re-won, by one who valued it not! But, if -his majesty thinks he has but to throw the -handkerchief, he is mightily mistaken,' she -added haughtily. -</p> - -<p> -'To me it seemed as if his eyes wore -almost an imploring look as he bade his -adieu to you and left the breakfast table,' -urged Mary, in her gentle manner; but -though the idea was pleasant and soothing -to Annabelle's angry pride, she replied that -she felt only astonishment and indignation -at his <i>hardiesse</i> in looking at, or addressing -her at all. -</p> - -<p> -'Am I to be a fool like the fair Elaine, -who wasted all her life in caring for one -man? But then there are no Sir Launcelots -of the Lake now.' -</p> - -<p> -Yet Annabelle, while sedulously schooling -her heart to be indifferent, felt to the -full, as far as Leslie Fotheringhame was -concerned, how, mind and manner apart, -'one human being is felt to be more -attractive for mere bodily reasons than all -the rest of the world besides.' -</p> - -<p> -Though a little provoked that he had -gone forth to shoot, and waste, as she -deemed it, a precious day in the coverts, -Mary was grateful to Fotheringhame for -the object which brought him to -Eaglescraig—-his interest in Cecil Falconer—or -Montgomerie, as she had taught herself to -call him now. -</p> - -<p> -In her mind he was every way associated -with the days when life became to her an -Eden—when loverlike she discovered that -secresy and silence were sweet to cultivate; -when the garden, the woods and fields, the -moon, the stars, the sky, had all new -charms, beauty, and brightness they had -never possessed before, and her intercourse -with Cecil became a system of emblems, -metaphors, parables, whispers, and pressures -of the hand. -</p> - -<p> -How far away that delicious period of -her life seemed now; and he—where was he? -In a land to her less than half known, -wholly barbarous, and where he was hourly -menaced by a violent death. -</p> - -<p> -'How large your ring seems for you -now!' said Annabelle, as she toyed with -Mary's hand. -</p> - -<p> -'How much smaller my finger has become -since Cecil placed it there!' replied Mary, -turning the diamond engagement hoop -wistfully; 'I am so afraid of losing it, that -I wear mamma's wedding-ring as a guard—many -have done that.' -</p> - -<p> -Fotheringhame returned late from the -coverts, and long after the keeper had -brought in his bag. -</p> - -<p> -'Did you lose your way?' asked Mary. -</p> - -<p> -'No, Miss Montgomerie; but I lost a -locket from my chain—a locket that I -would not lose for any sum of money.' -</p> - -<p> -'And you found it, I hope?' -</p> - -<p> -'Yes—here it is—but after a long hunt -among the gorse and brake.' -</p> - -<p> -'Is it so valuable, then?' -</p> - -<p> -'To me it is.' -</p> - -<p> -'May I ask what it contains?' asked -Mary, laughingly, as she saw it dangling -from his watch-chain. -</p> - -<p> -'Well—a lock of hair—and——' -</p> - -<p> -'What more?' she continued, archly. -</p> - -<p> -'If you insist on knowing, the likeness -of my—future wife,' said he in a whisper, -yet not so low but that it reached the ears -of the startled Annabelle; and Mary was -so shocked, so pained and full of pity for -her, that she grew very pale indeed, and -questioned him no more, and he laughingly -retired to dress for dinner. -</p> - -<p> -'So—so,' thought Annabelle; 'the locket -I gave him actually contains the portrait -of a woman—doubtless, she of the hazel eyes!' -</p> - -<p> -Fotheringhame felt that he loved, or -had loved, this proud girl earnestly and -deeply; and that she with equal earnestness -and depth resented something on his -part which had, perhaps, driven her to -loving some one else; thus the new emotion -of jealousy was infused in his mind, -imparting a constraint to his manner, while -Annabelle felt that she had been merely -the plaything of his idle hours. Thus each -shut up their real feelings; and to a greater -extent than either knew, they were at cross -purposes. -</p> - -<p> -Annabelle thought that she had overheard -and discovered enough to cure her -even of regret, and to steel her heart and -make her seem what she wished to be, -studiedly calm and indifferent to all -appearance; but this resolution was rather -severely tested when after dinner, instead -of joining Sir Piers in the smoking-room, -Fotheringhame came lounging deliberately -out to the terrace before the house, where -she was lingering alone, with a Shetland -shawl thrown over her head, and when he -joined her, and—as she thought with -singular coolness and effrontery—made -some commonplace remarks upon the -warmth and beauty of the autumnal -evening, to which she assented coldly and -briefly. -</p> - -<p> -'Chance has thrown us together again—a -chance for which I had ceased to hope,' -said he, in a low and earnest voice; 'and, -Annabelle—if you will once more permit -me to call you so—I would wish to talk with -you calmly and dispassionately over that -estrangement which has been a source of -great bewilderment and the keenest sorrow -to me.' -</p> - -<p> -She was amazed at his hardihood; but -said, quietly and gently, while keeping her -face averted, as he continued to walk by -her side: -</p> - -<p> -'If you are disposed to take a philosophical -view of what has certainly crushed -my pride—if I ever had any—and sorely -wounded my self-esteem—nay more, has -caused, I am willing to own, a great pang -to my heart—so am I, Captain Fotheringhame. -Our acquaintance, to call it by its -least name, has been a most unfortunate -one; so, if we talk at all, perhaps we may -find another subject.' -</p> - -<p> -And she continued to look straight before -her, with her face half averted, and -thankful that she had a veil—at least the -Shetland screen—to conceal the proud and -passionate tears that welled up in her blue -and handsome eyes. -</p> - -<p> -Meanwhile Mary, remembering Fotheringhame's -awkward revelation so recently, -was watching the pair with more anxiety -than hope or exultation, and was perhaps -a little surprised to see them gradually -quit the terrace and descend to the -shrubbery walk in the garden below. -</p> - -<p> -'When will our consultation about Cecil -begin!' she thought, a little petulantly and -impatiently. 'If a separation from one -we love, though short, is hard to bear, what -must such as mine from Cecil be?' -</p> - -<p> -He might die in that distant land—how -dreadful to consider such a contingency!—and -in dying, never know of the good -fortune that awaited him at home, of who -his family were, and the bright hope that -now smiled upon his love for her! -</p> - -<p> -Meanwhile those she had been watching -were now in a sequestered walk. -</p> - -<p> -'You have suffered, Annabelle,' said -Fotheringhame, in an agitated voice, as he -turned and confronted her; 'I can read it -in your face.' -</p> - -<p> -'If I have suffered, sir, it has been -through you.' -</p> - -<p> -'Oh, say not so,' he exclaimed in a -prayerful way. -</p> - -<p> -'Sir—your manner—your mode of conduct, -bewilder me!' she exclaimed, as she -was about to sweep away, when he strove -to take her hand, but she withdrew, it -sharply and defiantly. -</p> - -<p> -'Annabelle!' he said reproachfully. -</p> - -<p> -'How dare you—how can you be so -persistently cruel?' she cried haughtily, -while cresting up her head. There were -no tears in her eyes or voice now. -</p> - -<p> -'Cruel, Annabelle?' -</p> - -<p> -There was the old charm in his voice, -and she could not resist it. -</p> - -<p> -'Why was that letter—my last to -you—returned to me unopened?' -</p> - -<p> -'Because, Captain Fotheringhame, I -thought it right to do so.' -</p> - -<p> -She was gazing at him now steadily and -defiantly. -</p> - -<p> -'Had you read that letter it would have -explained all.' -</p> - -<p> -'Who the mysterious "F.F." is, or was.' -</p> - -<p> -'Yes,' said he sadly, with a peculiar -inflection of voice. -</p> - -<p> -'Enough of this,' said Annabelle, -haughtily; 'I leave you and all your -interests to the—the lady whose likeness -is in your valued locket.' -</p> - -<p> -'You do? If I have been guilty of -aught, in your eyes, you will certainly -forgive me when you look upon her face.' -</p> - -<p> -'Your intended! permit me to pass, -Captain Fotheringhame—surely I have -been subjected to mockery and insult -enough to satisfy even you!' -</p> - -<p> -With tender and observant eyes, Leslie -Fotheringhame was watching her soft -features, and saw them all quiver over, as -if with a sudden pang, and his heart was -moved, for a lovely face was hers. With -much of reverential tenderness he detached -the locket from his chain, opened it, and -then Annabelle beheld a likeness of herself—simply -a finely coloured photo, forgotten -by her, but evidently treasured by him. -</p> - -<p> -Annabelle was startled on seeing this, -but not disconcerted. -</p> - -<p> -'And so, sir,' said she, 'while loving -another woman, you have in mockery, and -perhaps for the amusement of your mess-room -friends, dared to carry my likeness -about with you!' -</p> - -<p> -She spoke firmly, and with difficulty -restrained a passionate fit of tears—of -wild weeping, in fact. -</p> - -<p> -'I never loved another woman—or any -one but you, and you alone, Annabelle, as -I can swear to you with truth,' said he, -earnestly and tenderly. -</p> - -<p> -'And who, then, was the woman whose -initials were the same as your own, or -nearly so, with whom you had mysterious -meetings—correspondence, and all that -appeared to be part and parcel of a deep and -concerted intrigue! But it is beneath me -now to inquire!' she added bitterly. -</p> - -<p> -'Annabelle, the returned letter would -have told you all—my sister.' -</p> - -<p> -'Your sister!' repeated Annabelle, in a -breathless voice, and with some incredulity -of manner. -</p> - -<p> -'My only sister Fanny—the runaway -wife of a husband who is now in India, -and to pay whose debts I sold my troop -in the Lancers. You have surely heard of -your cousin Fanny Fleming. She had no -friend in the world but me. I thought to -conceal her existence from you and others; -but you have wrung the secret from me. -A false wife—a helpless, hopeless creature; -but her sorrows, her repentances and all -are ended now, and she is in her grave. -God rest her!' -</p> - -<p> -There was a silent pause, during which, -he could see how the bosom of Annabelle -heaved with every respiration. -</p> - -<p> -'And this was all your mystery?' said -she, looking up with her eyes full of tears, -and her lips quivering. -</p> - -<p> -'All! and more than enough. It was -to me a source of great horror, shame, and -sorrow, to find my beloved sister—one -whom many women loved, and all men -admired; whose breast was the mansion of -goodness and purity once—she, my gentle -and loving sister, the child of the same -father, nurtured by the same mother! and -could I forsake her because she was in -adversity, in sorrow, and repentant, and from -whom all else in the world turned?' -</p> - -<p> -'Oh, Leslie!' she exclaimed, as she -frankly placed both her hands in his, and -he drew her towards him, saying tenderly: -</p> - -<p> -'Annabelle, let me prove my faith to -you—forgive me——' -</p> - -<p> -'I have nothing to forgive.' -</p> - -<p> -'Then let us forget the miserable past.' -</p> - -<p> -She felt his breath upon her half-averted -cheeks, and his low and earnest whisper in -her little white ear; and then, while weeping -heavily, she fell on his breast. -</p> - -<p> -'My darling,' she said in a broken voice, -'if I had only known of this—how different -all would have been—how much spared us! -Why did you not tell me—your sister——' -</p> - -<p> -'I was not aware how much appearances -were against me; and with you, I became -jealous of some imaginary person. I -shrunk from the task at first, and you—you -returned, unread, the letter which would -have explained all. But you are glad now, -dearest?' -</p> - -<p> -'Glad! O Leslie, to any other than you, -I might refrain from admitting that I have -never—since the day we parted—ceased to -love you; and have now learned to love -you more than ever.' -</p> - -<p> -'And I love you, Annabelle, with the -passion that comes only once in a man's -life-time!' -</p> - -<p> -And so, for a time, it may be inferred -that this pair were pretty oblivious of the -absent Cecil in Servia, and his interests at -home. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap10"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER X. -<br /><br /> -THE TELEGRAM. -</h3> - -<p> -In her joy and impulsiveness, -Mary actually embraced Leslie -Fotheringhame, and kissed him -when she heard from Annabelle of the -reconciliation, and explanation of all that -seemed so unpleasant and mysterious. -</p> - -<p> -'Had she not loved you—yes, loved you -dearly—do you think she would have felt -all this so much—so keenly and so -bitterly!' said Mary to Fotheringhame. -</p> - -<p> -And hearty were the congratulations of -the general, who was pleased that Eaglescraig -should be the scene of such an event, -though love and lovers' quarrels were -somewhat beyond his sympathies now; but he -liked Fotheringhame, as a friend of the -absent Cecil, and he had a strong regard -for Annabelle, the only daughter of an old -and valued Indian comrade; so the episode -immediately brought to memory one of his -inevitable 'up-country' reminiscences. -</p> - -<p> -'Talking of lovers' quarrels,' said he, as -they idled over the dessert; 'egad! I -remember one which was not without some -strange features. When we were in -Lucknow, under Inglis—just about the -time of the first outbreak of the mutiny—a -pair of lovers met, who had quarrelled in -some jealous pique at a ball in Chowringhee. -Olive Vane was a pretty brunette, -daughter of an old Sudder judge, and her -Romeo was Bob Acharn—cousin of -Acharn of Ours, a lieutenant of the -Bengal Native Infantry. There was not a -better fellow at pig-sticking, or shooting, in -all India than Bob; and I remember that, -at Jodpore, he watched and waited for days -and nights to pot a man-eater that had -made a whole village desolate. -</p> - -<p> -'As people don't lose time in love -affairs in India, it was fully arranged -that—the quarrel made sweetly up—the lovers -should be married on the 31st of May, -though many there were who said that the -time was not one for marrying or giving in -marriage, for the rising of the Pandies at -Meerut, some time before, had sent a thrill -of terror through every European breast -in India, and at Lucknow, as elsewhere, it -was uncertain when the secret hate of the -natives might burst into a flame. -</p> - -<p> -'The bridal party gathered, and at the -very moment the clergyman was asking the -bride if she was ready, a musket-shot -entered the room, and she fell, mortally -wounded. It had entered her chest, and -then ensued a scene which I cannot describe. -</p> - -<p> -'A company of Acharn's regiment—the -71st Bengal Native Infantry—had been -brought in from the Muchee Bawn for -disaffection some days before. They -refused all obedience, and in vain were the -black silk colours they had borne at -Sobraon displayed to them. It was deemed -imprudent to coerce them; and the result -was that on that eventful evening—the -31st of May, the <i>budmashes</i>, or armed -mob of Lucknow, rose, six thousand strong, -crossed the Goomtee in wild tumult by a -ford—a dark mass amid which there were -thousands of glittering steel-points, rushing -to join the mutineers. From one of the -latter came the shot that struck down -Olive Vane. We turned the great guns -of the Residency upon them, and, after an -hour's heavy firing, the insurrection was -suppressed for a time; but a time only. -</p> - -<p> -'During the attack and repulse, poor -little Olive Vane lay motionless on a sofa, -with young Acharn bending over her, -weeping like a boy, and striving to staunch -the blood that welled from the terrible wound -in her bosom—a wound which the doctors -declared she could not survive above an -hour. When she recovered consciousness -and learned the truth, her courage never -quailed, but she said: -</p> - -<p> -'"Bob—dearest, kiss me once again. -If I am to die, I shall die worthy of you." -</p> - -<p> -'"And I shall not survive you long, my -darling; but there is yet time for us to be -united. Come, sir, we are ready," said he -to the clergyman, who, like all the rest of -us, looked on with strange and haggard eyes. -</p> - -<p> -'The girl's pale cheek flushed, but she -was almost too weak to speak, for mental -joy seemed to struggle for mastery with -physical pain. What a strange sight she -presented, lying there, her white bridal -dress all stained with her blood, her -beautiful dark brown hair all dishevelled, and -looking so wan, so helpless, yet so resigned -to die! -</p> - -<p> -'Bob Acharn took her hand, and the -chaplain proceeded with the ceremony. -Thrice the quivering lips of Olive parted -ere she could articulate "yes," and when -she did so, it was the last word she uttered; -and then a little foam came over her lips, -for she was in her parting agony. And as -he concluded the ceremony the sobs of the -chaplain, who hid his face in his surplice, -were echoed by those of Acharn, and the -old judge her father.' -</p> - -<p> -'A terrible story!' exclaimed Annabelle. -</p> - -<p> -'And Acharn—what became of him?' asked Mary. -</p> - -<p> -'He fought against the mutineers, with -what animus you may imagine. Seeking -death daily, he seemed to have a charmed -life, till the 5th of September, when the -enemy made their last serious and desperate -assault, and he was blown to pieces -when they exploded a mine near Apthorp's -post, and strewed the garden around it -with corpses.' -</p> - -<p> -Anxious that Fotheringhame should -confer with the general about Cecil, Mary -had listened to this Indian story, though -she heard it for the first time, with some -impatience. -</p> - -<p> -'I do believe,' she said, laughingly, -to Annabelle, 'that when the dear old -man can't get an audience he tells some of -his Indian stories to himself!' -</p> - -<p> -'And now, Sir Piers,' said Fotheringhame, -influenced by a glance from Mary, -the import of which he read aright, 'about -the matter which brought me here, and -the subject of your many letters to Dick -Freeport and myself—what is to be done -about my friend Cecil? We can't leave -him to risk life and limb in a wretched -affair like the Servian war.' -</p> - -<p> -'Of course not—of course not, my dear -fellow,' replied Sir Piers: 'this -self-imposed exile must be ended; he shall be -restored to his regiment and to us all. -I must see him again—my boy's boy—once -again before I die!' he added, with sudden emotion. -</p> - -<p> -'Do not speak thus,' implored Mary, caressing him. -</p> - -<p> -'I have a great reparation to make, -Mary—great reparation, to the dead as -well as the living. I have been a vain, -selfish, hard-hearted man; but I see my -errors now, and shall make reparation, I -say. Why should not I go to Servia in -search of him?' exclaimed the old baronet, -as his eye sparkled, and then he added -sorrowfully: 'but I am stricken in years, -and am almost as much use in the world -now as a gun without a lock, or a Scotch -M.P. But we can set the wires to work, -and write to the Secretary of State for -Foreign Affairs.' -</p> - -<p> -'The world is a small place, after all, -now; people are always rubbing up against -each other,' said Fotheringhame, -cheerfully; 'then there are the railways.' -</p> - -<p> -'Not in Servia,' said Mary. -</p> - -<p> -'Well, the international post; and it -will go hard with us if we don't trace the -wanderer out. Besides, if the colonel -gives me leave, I may start for Servia myself.' -</p> - -<p> -'You!' exclaimed Mary and Annabelle -simultaneously, but in tones so different -that Fotheringhame laughed; for the -voice of the first was expressive of joy and -gratitude, and of the second, ill-concealed -alarm and dismay. -</p> - -<p> -We have elsewhere shown how the -sister of Count Palenka was scheming out -the journey of Cecil to the frontier; so, -pretty much about the same time, another -journey with reference to him was schemed -out by poor little Mary at Eaglescraig. -</p> - -<p> -Nothing as yet was defined as to the -movements of Fotheringhame, if he did -adopt the idea of setting out in quest of -his friend; for he had his commanding -officer to study, and Annabelle, who was -of more importance to him now than the -F.M. commanding at the Horse Guards. -</p> - -<p> -But Mary, assisted by John Balderstone, -chalked out his route, as she -conceived it must be, from London to Vienna -and Buda-Pesth; from thence to Belgrade -by steamer, as she supposed. Oh! it -seemed all very plain and easy, seated -over the map, which she could span with -her tiny hand. -</p> - -<p> -How she longed to go thither herself! -So great was her impatience that not even -the enchanted carpet of the Arabian tale, -which transported its proprietor through -the air to wherever he wished to be, in an -instant, or the enchanted bridle of the -famous Ayrshire 'Deil of Ardrossan,' the -possessor of which could make his steed -perform such wondrous feats of speed, -would have sufficed her. -</p> - -<p> -She was full of schemes now for -communicating with Cecil, for discovering his -exact whereabouts, and more than all, for -bringing him safely and quickly home; -while the general thought chiefly of his -restoration to his former rank and position -in the regiment. -</p> - -<p> -Mary had seen in Robertson's charming -little drama of 'Ours,' how the heroine -made her way to the Crimea, amid the -winter tempests, and found the wretched -hut of her lover, Hugh Chalcot. Why -should she not go to Servia and bring home -the wanderer! Mrs. Garth would go, of -course; and might not Fotheringhame and -Annabelle, with whom matters were -progressing so far now, make their wedding -trip, if solicitors and guardians would only -look sharp about contracts and settlements! -</p> - -<p> -It would be quite a joyous journey if the -general would only consent, for were not -she and Cecil as solemnly engaged as a -man and woman could be, and with the -full consent and sanction of him, her only -guardian! And the girl's heart seemed to -go out to him, the absent and the suffering, -with a futile and passionate longing. -</p> - -<p> -Oh yes—yes; she saw it all, and had -thought it and planned it so cleverly, with -dear old John Balderstone! So they -would go, by London, Vienna, and Belgrade, -to—she continued, as he bent over the -map—to where Cecil was, for they would -never—never come home without him; -and in anticipation, she imagined the joy, -the wonder, and the whole excitement of -their sudden meeting. -</p> - -<p> -But one thing did provoke her a little! -</p> - -<p> -It seemed as if, in the presence of -Annabelle and the new phase of their -love affair, the primary object of -Fotheringhame's visit took somewhat of a -secondary place, till the latter, like the -whole household, was terribly startled one -morning, when the wishes of all were -frustrated and their hopes crushed by an -appalling and bewildering Reuter's telegram, -which Fotheringhame strove, but in vain, -to conceal from Mary, and which ran thus: -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -'The ex-British officer who is now a -prisoner in the camp at Deligrad, and -under sentence, it is believed, of death for -treason to King Milano (as the Prince of -Servia names himself) and treachery to -General Tchernaieff, is now known to be -the same who so lately and so gallantly -saved the life of the latter in the battle -on the banks of the Morava, when Guebhard's -troop of Lancers gave way and fled.' -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -'Now what on earth does all this mean?' -exclaimed Fotheringhame, in blank dismay, -as he read this over for the third time to -Mrs. Garth, while Annabelle, who thought -only of Mary, clung to his arm with her -eyes full of tears. -</p> - -<p> -'It is a sad—sad tragedy this of ours,' -said the old lady, folding Mary to her -breast; 'but, my darling pet—it may be -some mistake; let us pray that it is so, -and that light may come out of the -darkness yet.' -</p> - -<p> -'This is torture upon torture. O my -God—is life worth living?' wailed Mary -in her heart, asking unconsciously the -question of a brilliant essayist. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap11"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER XI. -<br /><br /> -A DARK PREDICTION. -</h3> - -<p> -It is perhaps impossible to describe -adequately all that passed with -the speed of thought through -Cecil's mind when the group of Servian -officials approached the room in which he -was confined. -</p> - -<p> -He had heard the drums beaten at sunset, -and somehow deemed the falling in of -the pickets—though a usual circumstance—a -prelude, perhaps, to his own execution, -or a hopeless and degrading transmission -to some fortress, he knew not where; and -where, too probably, he would never be -heard of again, but pass through life -chained to a heavy shot, with a number -painted on his canvas caftan. -</p> - -<p> -Well, death, however sudden, was better -than such a fate! -</p> - -<p> -For a moment or two his blood had -stood still as the comers drew near, and -the noise of their swords and spurs was -heard on the stair. The unlocking of the -door found an echo in his heart. -</p> - -<p> -He nerved himself, with a prayer on his -lips, to hear the worst they had to tell -him—desperation and resignation curiously -mingling in his mind. -</p> - -<p> -'Oh why,' he muttered, 'are we born—why -do we live only to endure, to suffer, -and to die?' -</p> - -<p> -Then he thought of the poor girl who -shrunk close to him in her disguise, and a -great fear for her was added to his own -agony of soul. -</p> - -<p> -Thus, he was rather surprised to find -himself politely saluted by the minister -of police, by Count Palenka, and the -provost-marshal, both of whom had been -so severe and sharp with him when last -he saw them. -</p> - -<p> -'Herr Lieutenant,' said the deputy -minister of police, 'we have the pleasure -of announcing to you that you are a free -man—free without a stain upon your -honour, and may, when you choose, return -to your post.' -</p> - -<p> -'His Excellency General Tchernaieff -has commissioned me personally to restore -to you your sword, which I do with -profound pleasure,' said Count Palenka, -advancing in turn, and handing to the -bewildered Cecil his sword and waist-belt. -</p> - -<p> -'To what do I owe this change in my -affairs?' he asked in an unsteady voice, as -if unable to realise the situation. -</p> - -<p> -'The discovery of the true character of -that villain, Mattei Guebhard!' replied -Palenka. -</p> - -<p> -'Guebhard—who has now deserted to -the Turks, and for whose head the King -now offers a reward of a thousand ducats,' -added the police official. -</p> - -<p> -'And when was this discovery made?' -</p> - -<p> -'At noon to-day, Herr Lieutenant.' -</p> - -<p> -'By whom?' -</p> - -<p> -'By my sister, Margarita, who has more -legal acumen than all of us put together,' -replied Count Palenka; 'she asked to see -the commission found upon your person, -and old Tchernaieff bluntly refused to show -it even to her. But you know how lovely -she is, and the spell of her power and -presence—her polished <i>insouciance</i> and -cultured as well as natural fascination, and -how she unites the witchery of a girl to that -of a woman of the world. All this proved -too much for our old Cossack,' continued -the count, laughing; 'he yielded—put the -document in her hand, and almost -immediately her quick eye detected the forgery.' -</p> - -<p> -'Forgery?' -</p> - -<p> -'Yes, the partial—for it was only -partial—erasure of his name and substitution -of yours. A touch of some chemical -acid, applied by the Herr Deputy of Police, -proved the truth beyond a doubt; and a -rumour of this reaching Guebhard in his -tent, he fled, and is now safe in the -Turkish lines. So Margarita has saved you!' -</p> - -<p> -'Margarita?' repeated Cecil, almost -mechanically. Why, after all this -discovery and removal of all suspicion of his -honour, did she still mean to carry out the -intended scheme of flight—even to the last -moment, sending him the disguise by her -maid Ottilie? To secure him to -herself—could he doubt it? It was a strange -and wayward idea; but any way, as -matters stood now, she had loaded him -with a debt of gratitude which he never could repay. -</p> - -<p> -'You saved my life, as well as the life -of Tchernaieff, Herr Lieutenant,' said the -count, taking his hand; 'I must never -forget that, and henceforward you may -command me as you will.' -</p> - -<p> -Cecil could not help remembering that -the count's mind had been a little oblivious -of the circumstance at their last interview; -but, to do him and Tchernaieff justice, they -were both generous and profuse in their apologies. -</p> - -<p> -The minister of police was not long in -detecting the sex of the terrified Ottilie as -she attempted to leave the apartment, -wherein her presence and disguise led to -the immediate suggestion of an intrigue—which -was so natural with a girl so pretty—and -after some laughter and quizzing, she -was glad to let them all adopt the idea -and make her escape. -</p> - -<p> -So ended this somewhat melodramatic -situation, of which, like Margarita, Cecil -had seen many with lime-light and -orchestral accompaniments, but he never -thought to undergo the horror and bitterness -of heart consequent to being an actor -therein on the stage of real life. -</p> - -<p> -So, with an emotion of gladness all the -greater and more keen from the revulsion -that took place in his mind, he buckled on -his sword and once more went forth a -soldier and a free man; his gratitude to -Margarita mingling with a fierce and most -unholy longing to be once again face to -face with Guebhard, a chance not unlikely -to be soon afforded to him by the fortunes of war. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -'Welcome again, my dear fellow! glad -indeed to see you!' -</p> - -<p> -'By Jove! we feared it was all up with -you in that cursed affair!' -</p> - -<p> -Such were the greetings, with a warm -shake of the hand, which Cecil received -from Pelham and Stanley when he visited -them in the infantry camp, which was -chiefly in a wood near Deligrad, and where -he found them with some other officers -seated near a fire, whereat a suddenly -improvised meal was in process of being -cooked by their Servian servants, and -which consisted simply of a turkey, coated -with clay and roasted in a hole covered -with hot ashes; which, together with -potatoes and tomatoes, was to be washed -down with German beer. -</p> - -<p> -'Life here is not exactly the life of flies -in amber, or that of lotus-eaters,' said -Pelham, laughing, after he heard the story -of Cecil's misadventure; 'but even here, -where we have Montenegrins and Bashi -Bazouks in plenty, we don't often come -across so accomplished a scoundrel as this -Mattei Guebhard.' -</p> - -<p> -'But, Falconer, old fellow, though a -genuine Scot, brave as a lion and obstinate -as a mule, he nearly proved too much for -you,' said Stanley, proffering his cigar-case, -'and would have done so in the end, -but for your fair auxiliary. By Jove! that -girl must be a regular brick!' -</p> - -<p> -'You gave the Turks an <i>alerte</i> at -Alexinatz after I left the camp?' said -Cecil, to change the subject. -</p> - -<p> -'Your branch of the service, the cavalry, -did,' replied Pelham; 'we came on with -the infantry supports, and, as we had to -keep our faces quite as often to our men, -in leading them on, as to the enemy (you -know what cowardly beggars the Servians -are!), I nearly had my dorsal fin carried -away by a carbine bullet. But here comes -our turkey, done to time; and now to -dinner with what appetite we may.' -</p> - -<p> -'We have had no fighting since Alexinatz,' -said Stanley, 'and our camp-life seems -tame after what has gone before it.' -</p> - -<p> -'Like claret on the top of champagne.' -</p> - -<p> -'Man alive! for days we have had -nothing better to drink than German beer, -and Pelham consoles himself by expatiating -on Moselle as if he had been weaned -on it.' -</p> - -<p> -It was as music to Cecil, hearing once -again the pleasantly modulated and frank -English voices of Pelham and Stanley, who -made him so welcome to share their -humble repast—humble in its mode of -production and appurtenances—but both -declared themselves sick of Servia and its -army, and after another battle or two, as -the novelty had worn off, they had -resolved to resign and return home. -</p> - -<p> -Cecil thought that he would gladly do -the same; but he had no home that he -knew of to return to. -</p> - -<p> -He knew nothing of the round sum so -kindly offered and paid by Stanley and -Pelham for accounts of his safety, and the -generous fellows, of course, never mentioned -it to him; but neither of them knew that -it eventually led to Guebhard—acting on -the information of the wood-cutters—tracking -him as he did to Palenka, and -from thence through the forest. -</p> - -<p> -It was the evening of an autumn day, -late in the year. A golden light lingered -on the mountain-slopes, and a soft, silvery -mist rose from the oak and pine forests -that clothed them. The salmon were -leaping from rock to rock in a tributary of -the Morava, that flowed through the -camp, and cattle were herding peacefully -in the valleys under the shadow of Mount -Mezlanie; and the fields of Indian corn, -rice and maze were being reaped in places -where the wild Turkish Timariots had -many a time in the days of old swept in -furious bands from Thrace to Belgrade, -slaying the stalwart and young, the aged -and helpless; sparing the lovely alone as -their spoil; and where, in later times, the -standard of Black George had led so often -to victory, but never to defeat. -</p> - -<p> -It was a glorious autumnal evening, and, -seated there by the camp fire with pleasant -English comrades, and enjoying what had -long been a rarity to him, a good cigar, -Cecil felt all the joyous impulses of the -time—a change or relaxation of mind, after -all he had so lately undergone. -</p> - -<p> -'Here,' said Pelham, as he lounged on -the grass at full length, a tawny beard -of imposing aspect flowing over the breast -of his brown infantry tunic, and smoking -his briar-root with the marked laziness -that follows a day of hard work and -excitement, for he had been foraging in the -vicinity of the enemy—'here we have to -do without the thousand and one trifles -that seem so necessary to one's existence in -the atmosphere of Tyburnia and Belgravia; -and yet, somehow, we don't seem to miss them.' -</p> - -<p> -'Your rescue of Tchernaieff and Palenka -in the cavalry charge, and your decoration -with the Takova cross, and so forth, have -all been duly chronicled in the London -papers,' said the dapper little -correspondent (before mentioned) to Cecil; 'and -doubtless they have been the means of -sending a thrill through the breasts of the -listless, <i>nil admirari</i> and languid snobs of -society.' -</p> - -<p> -Has she heard of all this? was Cecil's -only thought; and the dear old Cameronians, too? -</p> - -<p> -As these heedless spirits had got hold of -Margarita's name, and knew—but not -how far, exactly—she had been woven up -in the network of Cecil's late adventures, -he had to undergo some raillery on the -subject, and somewhat to his annoyance. -</p> - -<p> -'It is an established fact in fiction and in -real life—in history and in poesy,' said -Stanley, twirling his long moustache and -adopting a sententious tone, 'that a fellow -must inevitably fall in love with the pretty -girl who nurses him after a spill in the -hunting-field, after a wound received in action, -and more especially if she actually saves his -life; and this girl did yours, and she is -downright lovely! I saw her in the iron -church, on the day that Tchernaieff -distributed so many crosses and medals to the -troops. And you know, as Sancho -Panza says, "as days go and come, and -straw makes medlars ripe," in the fulness -of time we may expect to see——' -</p> - -<p> -'Stanley, how your idle tongue wags!' -</p> - -<p> -'If it wags, it cannot be idle, Cecil; and -if you are destined to marry this fair -Servian, and found a race of heyducs, -or whatever the deuce they are called, -I suppose it is no use attempting to run -away from her.' -</p> - -<p> -Cecil, who knew more of what had -passed between himself and Margarita -than the heedless speaker had the least -idea of, felt his secret annoyance increased -by this banter. Owing her the most -profound gratitude, as he did, and painfully -aware of her rash, wild, and ill-concealed -but ill-considered regard for himself—a -regard by which he felt himself imperilled, -rather than charmed or flattered—he could -not, with patience, hear her name -mentioned in this way by these thoughtless -fellows—blasé waifs from the society of -'the West End.' -</p> - -<p> -'By Jove, how pink he grows!' exclaimed -Pelham; 'but no doubt she hopes to finish -her maidenly career with you, Cecil.' -</p> - -<p> -'Hush!' said the latter, with open -irritation, yet laughing to conceal it if -possible; 'here comes her brother.' -</p> - -<p> -Wearing a very handsome Russian -uniform—a green tunic faced with black -velvet and laced with gold, and with -several decorations glittering on his breast, -the count, on foot, with his sword under -his arm, approached the camp fire, and -touched his flat round forage cap in salute. -</p> - -<p> -'Herr Lieutenant,' said he to Cecil, 'I -knew that I should find you here. I have -a message to you from the general, which I -know you will receive with pleasure.' -</p> - -<p> -Cecil started to his feet and bowed. -</p> - -<p> -'To reward you for all you have -undergone, his excellency means to give -you a new opportunity for distinguishing -yourself,' continued Palenka, smiling. 'You -are to reconnoitre, about dawn, the country -between Mount Mezlanie and the Timok -river, about twenty miles from this; -observe its features, what you may see, and -report thereon. The picked men of your -troop—your own, as yet without a captain—to -the number of twenty sabres, will parade -at midnight, in front of the general's -quarters.' -</p> - -<p> -Cecil was still on the staff, but he -accepted the duty assigned with pleasure, -and felt the hint conveyed, that his troop -was as yet without a captain, as the latter -had been killed at Alexinatz. -</p> - -<p> -'I can stay with you but a few minutes, -gentlemen,' said the count; 'and meantime -will join you in a glass of some wine -my servants have brought, in honour of -the Herr Lieutenant and his victory over -the jade Fortune.' -</p> - -<p> -'Tokay!' exclaimed Stanley, in a low -voice, as he saw with interest a Cossack -extracting the tiny cobwebbed bottles: -'Tokay, by all the gods!—such wine as -can't be got for money, I have no doubt.' -</p> - -<p> -'You are right, Herr,' said the count, -who overheard him; 'they are the last of -a present the Emperor gave my father—and -I have just begged Tchernaieff to -accept, from me, a dozen—they are all of -the first brand, and from the grapes of -Hegyallya.' -</p> - -<p> -Other officers now came to share the -count's Hungarian wine—Russian Hussars -in sky-blue dolmans, Servian dragoons -with queer forage caps, like Scotch -glengarries, and baggy red breeches; and a -picturesque group the whole made, -Palenka being the most striking figure -there. He was very handsome, and would -have formed a fine study for a painter. He -had a visage naturally pale, but embrowned -by exposure, a dark, martial, eagle-eye, -and black moustache, with a general -daring, undaunted and fiery air about -him—in aspect, curiously between a man of -fashion and a reckless Free Lance; a man -who in thought and habit had much of the -old heyduc in him, and was perhaps a -little behind this unromantic, unmoved, and -unheroic age. -</p> - -<p> -Beside him sat Pelham, a brave and -reckless fellow, but of a very different -mould—under the middle size, yet a -winning and aristocratic-looking Englishman, -about thirty years of age, with blue -eyes, and a general and genial sunshiny -smile in his face. -</p> - -<p> -'And where, now, is she to whom I owe -so much—Mademoiselle Palenka?' asked -Cecil in a low voice, when occasion served, -and feeling the necessity, in common -politeness at least, to remember the fact of her -existence. -</p> - -<p> -'She has left the camp,' was the curt -response of the count, over whose face a -shade fell for a moment; for some rumours—some -suspicions of his sister's interest in -the questioner—must have reached him, -and he knew that the impulsive Margarita -was difficult to control; so Cecil said no -more on the subject, and, changing his -place to another part of the noisy and -laughing group, became somewhat silent. -</p> - -<p> -He had ample food for reflection, certainly. -</p> - -<p> -It was impossible for him not to think -with positive wonder on all the strange -complications that must have arisen had -the count, and those who accompanied him, -been but a very little later in coming to -announce that he—Cecil—was free; and -that if he had availed himself of the -disguise brought by Ottilie, and reached -the appointed spot where Theodore awaited -him with the horses, and too probably -Margarita too (indeed he could not doubt -she was there), and had he taken, with her, -that flight which the detection of the -deserter's forgery rendered unnecessary, the -whole future of both their lives must have -been changed from that hour; for it was -evident that she had meant to cast her lot -with him, and for all she knew or could -foresee, her one life against a censorious world. -</p> - -<p> -'We must never meet again—I must -see her no more!' was his thought again -and again, and he was conscious that the -count was looking at him scrutinisingly -from time to time. The usually heedless -and unobservant Pelham detected this, and -said to Palenka inquiringly: -</p> - -<p> -'Why do you look so gravely—so sadly -at our friend, with whom you were -laughing but a few minutes ago?' -</p> - -<p> -'Sadly—do I? Well, sooth to say, I -feel somewhat sorry for him.' -</p> - -<p> -'Why—what the deuce is up now?' -</p> - -<p> -'I am rather an acute physiognomist,' -replied the count, looking down and affecting -to select and manipulate a cigar, 'and -think I can see—can read in his face, by a -certain gravity of expression there, that he -will—after all he has escaped—die a violent death.' -</p> - -<p> -'<i>A violent death!</i>' repeated Pelham, with -an expression of surprise in his face; 'from -what do you gather this?' -</p> - -<p> -'I cannot say—a kind of prescience—an -intuition of destiny—that I have no -control over; but I have rarely been mistaken.' -</p> - -<p> -'Well,' replied Pelham, 'I might predict -as much about many of us; we may perhaps -be engaged to-morrow, and some that are -above the turf just now, may be under it -soon enough.' -</p> - -<p> -The count gave an inscrutable smile, and -began to smoke; and Pelham was glad -only that Cecil—going, as he was so soon -to do, on a duty of some peril—had not -overheard a prediction so strange and -gloomy concerning himself. -</p> - -<p> -'Destiny—prescience—bosh!' thought -Pelham; but the count's face and manner -impressed the volatile Englishman, who -had only come to fight in Servia as the -means to a 'new sensation.' He became -perplexed, silent, and when Cecil spoke, -his voice seemed somehow to stir a painful -chord in the breast of Pelham. -</p> - -<p> -'A violent death!' -</p> - -<p> -This strange prophecy gave him some -cause to think. Did the count refer to -the chances of war, or that Cecil was -fore-doomed prematurely, and had his -destiny—his kismet, like an Osmanlie—written -on his brow? Or was it that he resented, -with all his apparent candour and -generosity, some love-passages between his -sister and the late prisoner, and meant to -have the latter cut off?—a matter easily -achieved in that lawless land. -</p> - -<p> -Pelham was restlessly uneasy on the -subject, and sat reflectively sucking at his -briar-root in silence, till the bugles sounded -for lights and fires out—for silence in camp, -and all retired to their tents or huts. -</p> - -<p> -At midnight, punctually, Cecil, cloaked -and armed, rode to the headquarters of -Tchernaieff, in front of which he found his -troop mounted, and a sergeant calling the roll -by lantern-light, the rays of which fell feebly -on the dark faces and darker uniforms of -the Servian troopers, who were all in light -marching order, without valises or other -encumbrance, save forage-nets, sponge-bags -and spare shoes. By lantern-light he -opened the ranks and inspected them; the -pistols and carbines were loaded. From -Palenka he got a written memorandum of -the path or route he was to pursue, though -much was left to his own discretion. -</p> - -<p> -The party, consisting of twenty sabres, -broke into sections of fours. -</p> - -<p> -'<i>Shagoum-marche!</i>' (walk-march) was -the first command, and they got into -motion. -</p> - -<p> -'<i>Rishu!</i>' (trot) cried Cecil, and away -they went, and quickly left the camp -behind them, looking somewhat ghost-like -amid the starless gloom, as they glided -noiselessly over the soft turf, on which, as -yet, the hoofs of their horses made no sound. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap12"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER XII. -<br /><br /> -THE RECONNAISSANCE. -</h3> - -<p> -Young soldier though he was in -some respects, Cecil knew well -the importance of the duty -assigned to him, and the great circumspection -requisite in the mode of executing -it; all the more as Circassian and Egyptian -cavalry had been but recently heard of in -the vicinity of Rajouz, a village about five -miles from Deligrad. -</p> - -<p> -Whatever Cecil did, he usually gave his -heart to; and he was doubly anxious to -prove himself worthy of the renewed trust -and faith reposed in him by Tchernaieff, -and to stifle the qualms of disgust he had -begun to feel for the Servian service, and -which usually rise, sooner or later, in the -heart of every Briton at any foreign service, -and which was the more likely to -influence Cecil by the memory of late -events. -</p> - -<p> -As his party rode on at a leisurely walk, -after quitting the vicinity of the camp, the -hoofs tramping out the rich odours of the -fallen leaves and aromatic plants, he gave -strict orders that there was to be no -smoking (lest lights, even so small, were -seen), and that there must be no talking -or singing—that utter silence must pervade -every movement. -</p> - -<p> -His party had food for three days; thus -he halted and fed the horses at every two -leagues, so that they should always be -fresh and fit for duty, taking care to halt -in thickets, or at a distance from all roads, -and using every precaution to preclude -surprise while the feeding was in process, -and the horses consequently unbitted. -</p> - -<p> -He was furnished with a guide, whom, -however, he kept ignorant of the route -indicated to him by Tchernaieff—the line -of country towards the Timok river. -</p> - -<p> -He knew, too, that an officer, be his -rank what it may, can never, with honour, -decline the perilous duty of a reconnaissance, -as the honour is amply made up by -the importance of the expedition, which -frequently proves of the utmost consequence -in the operations of the future. -</p> - -<p> -Thus, when day began to dawn, and he -found himself traversing the fields and -forest lands on the eastern slopes of Mount -Mezlanie, while moving with the utmost -care and circumspection, with two advanced -troopers some distance in front, riding -each with loaded carbine on thigh, he -began his notes and task of surveying, by -minutely examining the face of the country, -the hollows and vales, whether stony -or swampy; the grass and the watercourses; -the line of the principal roads, their turnings, -breadth, and capability for the passage -of artillery; the situation of farmhouses -or villages, and their capabilities for -defence; the bridges, etc.—and all the -memoranda thereon he extended and corrected -during the halts for refreshing the -men and horses. -</p> - -<p> -Particularly had he to note where grass, -hay, and corn could be procured, in case -of an advance in that direction; with the -proper ground for camps, with fuel and -water in the vicinity, and so forth, omitting -nothing that might prove of value to his -leaders. And in this new species of -employment the first day passed without event, -and the approach of evening found his -party preparing to halt for the night in a -thicket of oaks and pines, under the shadow -of some lofty and impending precipices, -the fronts of which glared redly in the -western light, above the deep green of the -forest trees. -</p> - -<p> -A line of silvery haze, exhaled by the -evening sun, winding among them, indicated -the course of the Timok river, which descends -from the south side of Mount Haiduchki, -of the Balkan chain in Servia, and flows -along the confines of Bulgaria till it reaches -the Danube. So the river was almost in -sight, and as yet neither Cecil nor his -troopers had 'felt' the Circassian or -Egyptian cavalry; and everywhere the country -seemed quiet, the peasantry attending in -peace to their agricultural avocations. -</p> - -<p> -Near the halting-place lay a deep pool -surrounded by cedars and pines; rich -boughs drooped into its water, on which -the snow-white lilies floated, and there the -horses were unbitted, and they and their -riders drank thirstily. -</p> - -<p> -By dawn next day all were in their -saddles again, and the reconnaissance was -resumed. -</p> - -<p> -Sharply observant, though naturally -unsuspicious, Cecil had, ere this, begun to -remark that an armed peasant, with a large -black beard—but all men were armed there, -and then especially—who had questioned -the advanced file of men and obtained from -them a light for his pipe—appeared to -dodge or watch his party, which rode at -an easy pace, and from time to time he saw -this peasant appearing on the crest of one -slope, as they began to descend another. -</p> - -<p> -Disliking this, he sent a corporal back at -a trot to question this fellow and demand -his object or purpose; but the latter eluded -this by disappearing in a thicket, only, as -it eventually proved, to follow still, but -unseen and more warily. -</p> - -<p> -As the road traversed one of those warm -valleys where, in Servia, the cotton-plant -is raised in great quantities, and where the -plantations present so pleasing an -appearance, the glossy dark green leaves -contrasting so finely with the white globular -flowers scattered over the tree, Cecil's -party overtook three mounted persons—a -man and two females—who, after a -consultation among themselves apparently, -checked their horses to let his troopers -come up with them. -</p> - -<p> -As they drew near them, Cecil felt his -pulse quicken. There was no mistaking -the brown habit faced with scarlet, the -smart hat and white ostrich feather, and -the graceful figure of the wearer, or the -old-dragoon seat of her male attendant. For -here was Margarita, accompanied by old -Theodore, and the third mounted personage -was the pretty Ottilie. -</p> - -<p> -'Margarita again—and here! By Jove! there -<i>is</i> some fatality in all this!' thought -Cecil; and he spurred in advance of his -party, and joined the trio, two of whom at -once reined their horses back; and one of -them, Ottilie, coloured very deeply, for she -was not ignorant of the grotesque rumours -that had been current concerning the -disguise in which she had been found. -</p> - -<p> -'You here, Herr Lieutenant!' exclaimed -Margarita, with genuine surprise, while -placing her whip in her bridle-hand, she -presented the other to Cecil; 'here -northward of Mount Mezlanie?' -</p> - -<p> -'I am reconnoitring—and you?' -</p> - -<p> -'Am <i>en route</i> for Palenka; then via -Belgrade for Vienna.' -</p> - -<p> -If she thought to interest him by this -intelligence she failed, for he said: -</p> - -<p> -'I am glad to hear that you are leaving -this district, for we know not which way -the tide of war may roll: and the fact of -your being here without an escort is most -rash, as patrols of Circassian and Egyptian -horse have been seen between the Timok -and the Morava!' -</p> - -<p> -'We are now within ten miles of Palenka, -and have seen nothing as yet to alarm us,' -she replied. -</p> - -<p> -Palenka was in a safe district; but who -could count on what might lie between? -Why should he not escort her so far, when -he was free to do so, as his command was -a roving one? and Palenka lay on the west -side of the Timok, and in the district he -was to examine. -</p> - -<p> -Her eyes sparkled and her colour -heightened as he announced his intention; -and they rode slowly on together, -he the while, with all the interest that he -could not help feeling in her, wishing in -his heart that she was safe in Belgrade, -Vienna, or anywhere else than by his side. -</p> - -<p> -She thanked him for the proffered escort. -</p> - -<p> -'Say nothing of that,' said he; 'I owe -you so much more than I can ever repay.' -</p> - -<p> -'You owe me a debt, I know; yet it -might be best adjusted by our forgetting—as -if we had never known—each other.' -</p> - -<p> -'Margarita, who that has seen and -known you will ever forget you?' he -asked, with truth in his voice and eye. -</p> - -<p> -'Many, I have no doubt.' -</p> - -<p> -Her manner was somewhat bitter and -weary, and from under her long dark eyelashes -she looked at him, from time to time, -with a kind of passionate pain. -</p> - -<p> -'One fact I shall never forget, at least—that -you saved me from great and deadly -peril, by your acumen and superior intelligence.' -</p> - -<p> -'By my suspicion of Guebhard and general -knowledge of his character, and of what -he is capable—say, rather.' -</p> - -<p> -'And thus you rendered my flight from -Deligrad unnecessary.' -</p> - -<p> -'Yes,' she replied curtly. -</p> - -<p> -On that point he said no more. She -coloured for a moment at his reference to -it, and then became pale again; but paleness -was the normal condition of her face. -</p> - -<p> -This brilliant woman loved him, and had -not cared much to conceal that she did so. -What was he to say to her—what to -tell—how to explain all? It was impossible -for him to put in clear, cold words -before her the mortifying fear that he -could not—should not love her in return, -because he was affianced—so hopelessly, -as he supposed—to another. -</p> - -<p> -Could he ask her to take back a heart -he certainly had never sought? It was -in every way a perplexing and grotesque -situation. -</p> - -<p> -'You have become very silent,' said she, -in a tone of pique, while switching, and -then checking her horse. 'Of what are -you thinking?' -</p> - -<p> -'That if some of those wild Circassians, -of whom I have been told, were only to -appear now——' -</p> - -<p> -'Heaven forbid! why?' -</p> - -<p> -'That I might empty a saddle or two, -and risk in your service the life you saved, -and thus make an atonement——' -</p> - -<p> -'I want no such risk run; and what,' -she asked a little sharply, 'do you mean -by atonement?' -</p> - -<p> -'Only this, that you saved my life, -Margarita, and may claim its whole future, -if you will,' said he, while Mary's face -came reproachfully to memory, for the -speech was disloyalty to her, however -gallantly meant to Margarita, whom the -peculiarity of its tenor irritated rather -than flattered. -</p> - -<p> -'This is an idle speech, and I know its -value. I thank you for your escort, but -we shall part at Palenka, and as another -day will see me on the road for Vienna, -we shall never meet again; and you may -become to me, what I shall never be to -you—a dream, without pain perhaps.' -</p> - -<p> -This was one of her many strange and -passionate speeches, his general or vague -replies to which always piqued her. -</p> - -<p> -'Youth and pleasure are a dream,' said he. -</p> - -<p> -'And life itself, say some.' -</p> - -<p> -'But these metaphysicians do not tell -us where or how we shall wake to find it -so—unless in death.' -</p> - -<p> -'Enough of a subject so gloomy and -abstruse,' said she sharply, for Cecil's -strange indifference galled and piqued her -keenly. -</p> - -<p> -Though a fashionably-bred woman, and -as a girl accustomed to the best society in -Vienna, in wild Servia she was certainly -rather untrammelled by the bonds of -conventionality. Her life from young girlhood -had been full of gaiety, variety, vivid -colour, and very rational pleasure. She -had been the object of much adulation, -admiration, and love, too; she had been -amused or bored by all, but won by none -till now, when Cecil, the wanderer, the -soldier of fortune, with no inheritance but -his sword, had won her regard without -seeking it. -</p> - -<p> -She was assured now—bitterly so—that -he would never kneel to her as a lover; yet -she was loth that he should ever free himself -from the power of her fascinations, if -she could make him feel it. Fain would -she have won that heart which seemed so -fresh and guileless, so unlike any she had -yet met—so unworn and prone to have -good faith in all men. -</p> - -<p> -There was a certain languor and then -occasional fiery carelessness in Margarita -that must have come to her with the blood -of the old heyduc of Palenka, and his -bride—some odalisque, perhaps, won by -the edge of his sabre amid the plunder of -a pasha's household, and hers was the -disposition, the passion and the situation, -that so often lead to blind and bitter -hatred, ending in crime and sorrow. -</p> - -<p> -She knew the power of her beauty over -all men, and she knew also the claim for -special gratitude over this loyal, dauntless, -and grateful heart, and hoped that she -knew how to use both; thus many a time -she looked at him with her bright, languid -eyes, the colour of which was often difficult -to define, with an expression which seemed -to say: -</p> - -<p> -'I saved your life and honour—therefore -you ought to belong to me, and to no one else!' -</p> - -<p> -And Cecil found it impossible to deny, -even to himself, the knowledge and certainty -that this woman, so dazzlingly fair -that few women ever saw her without -jealousy, and fewer men without admiration -or passion, had been ready—and was -now ready—to risk shame, suffering or -danger, and fly with him, seeking obscurity -and exile in Bulgaria or anywhere else. -</p> - -<p> -'Was ever man more tempted!' thought -he, as he saw—with satisfaction—the -gilded vanes and cupolas of Palenka -glittering in the sunshine above the -green-wooded bank of the Morava, and he -reined up his horse to bid her farewell. -</p> - -<p> -'You will surely ride up to Palenka, -and bid mamma adieu?' she said, her eyes -dilating with reproach. -</p> - -<p> -'To visit Palenka, or anywhere else, is -inconsistent with my duty; and the count -your brother viewed my sojourn there with -unconcealed displeasure.' -</p> - -<p> -'As you please,' said she, coldly. Then, -after a pause, she added, 'We have resolved -to leave Servia, mamma and I, for a time—my -brother wishes us to do so.' -</p> - -<p> -'I would fain see you once again,' said -he, with an access of tenderness, suited, -however, to the occasion; 'but it may not -be. To-night I shall halt in the wood -near Tjuprija, and to-morrow go back on -the spur to Deligrad.' -</p> - -<p> -'The wood near Tjuprija—that is close -at hand; so if we who have been so -strangely thrown together are parted to -meet no more in the future, and you -would care to see me once again—just -once—at noon to-morrow be by the wayside -chapel on the rocks above the ruin—the -chapel of Lazar—and—' she paused, as -a spasm of pain made her proud and beautiful -face quiver, 'and I shall be there.' -</p> - -<p> -'At noon, then, to-morrow,' said he, -bending over her gauntleted hand and kissing -it, after which she rode off at a quick -pace, followed by her two attendants, -while Cecil fell back and rejoined his -troopers, who made all haste to put out -and hide the pipes in which they had—in -defiance of orders—been indulging during -his recent preoccupation in front of them. -</p> - -<p> -At the same time a man—the bearded -peasant before-mentioned—who had been -concealed among some laurel-bushes, and -had overheard the parting, crept stealthily -away, with an expression on his face that -would have startled Cecil had he seen it. -</p> - -<p> -'To what end, or to what useful or wise -purpose, under all the circumstances, can -this assignation be? and in such a lonely -place?' he thought. 'But what could I -say—how decline the last request of one -to whom I owe so much?' -</p> - -<p> -Yet he wished it all well over, and -anticipated, with genuine British dismay, -something of a painful scene. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -The night was passed by his troopers -peacefully in the solitude of the wood -referred to, under the stars. Morning -came in bright with ruddy sunshine, and -after such a humble repast as soldiers -prepare under such circumstances, Cecil -ordered them to unbit and unsaddle their -horses, groom them, and re-examine all -their ammunition—not all at once, but by -fours at a time—and after patrolling the -woods in the vicinity, and finding all quiet, -he halted them again in the wood, and set -forth to keep his appointment at the -chapel, which was on a rocky steep about -a mile from it. -</p> - -<p> -He crossed the Morava by an ancient -bridge, supposed to be the work of Roman -hands, and began to ascend the steep and -rocky bank that overhung it, till he -overlooked the windings of the river and the -woods that half-concealed them, and -attained the summit of a species of pass in -which stood the wayside chapel—merely a -rough species of altar, whereon was painted -a rude and half-defaced effigy, surmounted -by a projecting pediment or roof of red -tiles. -</p> - -<p> -Masses of wild vines flourished in luxuriance -all around it, with other creepers, and -from amid these there peered grotesquely -forth—with its metal halo sorely faded—the -effigy, which was supposed to represent -the Servian <i>Krall</i>, Lazar, who was taken -prisoner in the last great battle on the -plains of Kossava (which ended in the -subjugation of Servia), and whose relics, -after his murder in the camp of the Sultan -Amurath, have wrought so many miracles, -according to the superstition of his country, -and now lie in the monastery of Ravenitza, -which he founded; but Cecil thought -nothing of all this, and probably knew -nothing about it, as he looked about him -anxiously and in haste for Margarita. -</p> - -<p> -It was past the time of noon now; but -she was not there. A sheer cliff of vast -height, the base of which could not be -seen, descended on one side; on the other -was the narrow walk by which he had -mounted to the wayside chapel. -</p> - -<p> -He heard no sound but the voices of -the birds, and he looked in vain for her -figure—her drapery floating between the -stems of the trees. -</p> - -<p> -Why had she failed to keep her tryst? a -kind of keen disappointment occurred to -him now; he looked at his watch again. -Time was long past now, and he thought -of his troopers and the homeward march -to Deligrad! -</p> - -<p> -Then, as he looked about him, his eye -fell on two objects that gave him a shock, -a bracelet and a handkerchief. The former -lay imbedded in the turf, as if trod upon; -the other fluttered on the stem of a wild vine. -</p> - -<p> -He took up the former, a Turkish rose-pearl -bracelet, which he remembered to -have seen Margarita wear; so she must -have come to the meeting-place and lost -it. But why had she come and gone so soon? -</p> - -<p> -The handkerchief, a white silk one, he -examined, and on a corner thereof saw the -name of 'Mattei Guebhard.' -</p> - -<p> -Guebhard—then he too had been there; -had in some way anticipated him! And -now he saw that all the turf about the -narrow path bore the indentations of feet, -as if a struggle had taken place, and a -great horror of—he knew not what—fell -upon the heart of Cecil. -</p> - -<p> -He thought of the Circassian and -Egyptian patrols, who were said to be -scouting between the Morava and the -Timok, but he thought not of the peasant -who had dogged his party yesterday. -</p> - -<p> -Had Guebhard succeeded in carrying -her off—in abducting her beyond the -Turkish lines? If so, in these days of -Bulgarian atrocities, Cecil could but fear -the worst, and his heart died within him -as he returned, slowly and reluctantly, and -with many a backward glance, to the road, -where his troopers awaited him. -</p> - -<p> -There was no time given him for -inquiry, no time for further delay, and at a -rapid trot the homeward march began. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap13"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER XIII. -<br /><br /> -THE WAYSIDE CHAPEL. -</h3> - -<p> -On the morning of the same day, -Margarita was surprised to -receive a note, purporting to be -from Cecil, whose handwriting she had -never seen, requesting her to be at the -wayside chapel of Krall Lazar two hours -before noon, as the exigencies of the service -required his presence elsewhere at the time -formerly appointed. -</p> - -<p> -This note had been give to Theodore by -a man attired like a peasant, who promptly -disappeared. -</p> - -<p> -'Sooner than noon!' thought Margarita; -'perhaps he is impatient to see me. He -does love me—he must love me. But -perhaps some dread of Palenka fetters his -tongue; or can it be—but let me not think -<i>that</i>!' -</p> - -<p> -Never had Ottilie found her mistress -more difficult to please in the mode of -dressing her beautiful hair, than on the -morning of this day, in the selection of -a costume and the choice of colours; but -at last she was attired to her own satisfaction, -and when the time came, left Palenka -by a garden-gate, and took the path that -led to the wayside chapel, or altar, for, -though named the former, it had rather the -character of being the latter only. -</p> - -<p> -Like Cecil, she, with all her hopes and -wishes, had more than once questioned -herself as to the end or utility of this -meeting which it had been—she felt it—so -unwomanly in her to invite. -</p> - -<p> -She could not yet bear the idea that he -should pass out of her life, or he out of -hers. She dreaded an unknown rival, as -she had never been baffled before; and -over that rival, if such existed, she hoped -in the end to triumph by the power of her -beauty and fascination of manner, and to -win him, without pity, to herself; and, -full of such thoughts, she trod lightly the -steep and winding way that led to the -shrine of Krall Lazar, and softly sang to -herself the little Servian song of 'The -Wishes,' which elsewhere she had sung to Cecil. -</p> - -<p> -The morning was a glorious one, and in -the poetry of her nature Margarita felt all -the softening and exhilarating influences of -it. The heavy fragrance of the great fir -forest, on which the night-dew lingered, -loaded the air, and the rays of the sun fell -aslant them here and there, through the -flat and fan-like boughs, from which the -great, over-ripe cones, brown and full of -seed, were dropping ever and anon. -</p> - -<p> -A sea of pines, dark-green and sombre, -seemed to spread in spiky conical peaks up -the steep mountain-slopes, as she proceeded -by the narrow pathway to the appointed -place, her heart beating hopefully and -happily in anticipation. -</p> - -<p> -At last she reached the vine-covered -shrine; it stood alone; no one was there. -</p> - -<p> -'Cecil!' she said softly, and listened. -</p> - -<p> -Then came a sound as of branches -crackling, and a man clad like a Servian -peasant started from behind the edifice and -stood before her; but through the disguise, -now minus the beard, and with close-shaven -chin and well-trimmed black -moustache, she knew the pale face -of—Mattei Guebhard! -</p> - -<p> -'You here?' exclaimed Margarita, -shrinking back. -</p> - -<p> -'Yes, I,' said he, grimly; 'you got a -note——' -</p> - -<p> -'From—from the Herr Lieutenant.' -</p> - -<p> -'No; from <i>me</i>.' -</p> - -<p> -'You?' -</p> - -<p> -'In his name,' said Guebhard, laughing -softly; 'could I have lured you here, else?' -</p> - -<p> -'Decidedly not,' she replied, with -perplexity and anger. 'But how knew you -that I was to be here?' -</p> - -<p> -'Every movement of yours is known to me.' -</p> - -<p> -'And your purpose?' asked Margarita. -</p> - -<p> -'I scarcely know—punishment—revenge!' -he replied, incoherently and a -a little wildly. -</p> - -<p> -As he surveyed her now he saw not a -vestige of her soft, persuasive, and -caressing manner, or the witchery of her -sovereign smile. Her face expressed only -deep anger, profound disdain, and utter -indifference by turns; yet he attempted to -take her hand, but she wrenched it away -and waved him back, with a grandeur of -gesture that compelled him to obey, while -her eyes flashed with unspoken indignation. -</p> - -<p> -It was at this moment that the rose-pearl -bracelet fell from her wrist, but both -were too preoccupied to observe it. -</p> - -<p> -'You visited the English cur in his -prison?' said he, after a pause. -</p> - -<p> -'Who told you so?' -</p> - -<p> -'Heed not who told me so—suffice it -that I know you did.' -</p> - -<p> -'What then? Am I accountable to you -for my actions?' -</p> - -<p> -'This morning you are.' -</p> - -<p> -'Fool—you forget yourself!' -</p> - -<p> -Guebhard looked into her cool and defiant -face, and read but too plainly an expression -of hatred in her beautiful eyes. He saw -the curl of careless scorn on her sweet red -lips, and a sigh of rage escaped him, though -for a moment—but a moment only—his -eyes sought hers with an anguish of entreaty. -</p> - -<p> -'Perjurer and deserter!' said she -defiantly and bitterly; 'the soldier who is -false to his colours—the man who is false -to his country—is beneath rebuke; but not -beneath vengeance.' -</p> - -<p> -'You saved the man's life on one hand,' -said he, hoarsely; 'on the other, you -exposed me, compelling me to anticipate -an old intention of joining the Turkish -standard, which must prevail here and -elsewhere. You saved his life and won his -gratitude and love; but neither will avail, -for by the God who hears us, you shall -never see him more!' -</p> - -<p> -'Who will separate us?' -</p> - -<p> -'I shall!' -</p> - -<p> -'Stand aside, Captain Guebhard!' said -she haughtily, and now dreading every -moment to hear the step of Cecil ascending -the path; 'stand aside—from this day -you and I must be to each other as the -dead.' -</p> - -<p> -'As the dead—yes—be it so. I know -you hate me now—though once you did -not do so.' -</p> - -<p> -'I never even valued you as a friend, -though you flattered yourself that you -stood even higher than a friend in my -estimation; and now as a deserter from the -Servian cause——' -</p> - -<p> -'I am more Bulgarian than Servian in -my blood, perhaps more Italian than -either,' said he, hotly. 'Milano omitted -to give me the cross, though I had won it -in our first battle, so I have assumed the -crescent in its place; that is all—and the -crescent will prevail in the end.' -</p> - -<p> -'Never! we shall live to see the crescent -thrust into Asia or the sea; but as I did -not come here to talk politics, I have the -honour to wish you good-morning, Captain -Guebhard, and trust that our comedietta -is over.' -</p> - -<p> -'It is a tragedy, as you may find,' was -the grim and menacing response. -</p> - -<p> -'What do you mean, sir?' -</p> - -<p> -'Simply what I say.' -</p> - -<p> -'Insolent! But I fear you will never -make your fortune as a Romeo.' -</p> - -<p> -Oaths never rose to the lips of Guebhard; -he was—though a finished villain—too -polished a man to indulge in such: but -terrible was the hatred that baffled passion -was now raising in his lawless breast. A -dark and angry red shot for a moment -across his usually pallid face, and his eyes -gleamed with a vindictiveness of expression -that made the heart of Margarita -throb wildly, and with sudden apprehension; -but she could not pass him. -</p> - -<p> -Behind her was a precipice, and before -her—barred by him—lay the path which -she must descend to elude him. -</p> - -<p> -Like a heroine, who is described in a -recent novel, 'she knew well enough that -forgetfulness was a treasure for evermore -beyond the reach of those who once loved -her.' Guebhard had loved her, she knew, -and this love had well-nigh maddened -him—and now Guebhard, in his tiger-like -nature, was beginning to hate her—nay, -hated her already! -</p> - -<p> -He grasped her delicate wrist with a -force she could not withstand. -</p> - -<p> -'Listen to me,' said he, with calm yet -sad ferocity in his tone and eyes; 'I am -not the first, among many, whom your -beauty and your wiles have fooled and -beguiled—for few women have had such -Circe-like power as you—but I shall be the -last on whose face you will look.' -</p> - -<p> -'What do you mean?' she asked, in a -low and agitated voice. -</p> - -<p> -'That you will soon learn—come here,' -he continued, hoarsely; 'here—and look -down,' he added, dragging her to the giddy -verge of the beetling cliff, at the base of -which, spread out like a map, was the -woody landscape stretching away towards -Katadar, with the Morava winding -through it like a silver snake. -</p> - -<p> -'Have pity, Guebhard!' exclaimed -Margarita, shrinking back, while a mortal -terror seized her now, for the expression of -his eyes froze her heart. -</p> - -<p> -'Pity—it is too late—too late!' he -replied, yet with something like a sob in his -throat. -</p> - -<p> -'Forgiveness is saint-like, Guebhard,' -she urged piteously. -</p> - -<p> -'But I am no saint, Margarita—I am -only a humble mortal.' -</p> - -<p> -'Mortal or not—man or devil—why -have I to seek forgiveness of <i>you</i>?' she -exclaimed, as a gust of indignation and -pride came to her aid, and she strove to -break away from him; but finding that all -her efforts were vain, and that he was too -strong for her, she shrieked out wildly, -'Cecil! Cecil!' -</p> - -<p> -The name seemed to madden him. -Stung to frenzy, he drew a pistol from his -belt; but replaced it, and grasped his -yataghan; that, too, he declined to use, lest -it might elicit a shriek again and bring -succour, for with all his frenzy, there was a -method in his madness, and his next -thought was—strangulation! -</p> - -<p> -The proud and lovely neck she would -not have permitted him to kiss was now -to feel the tiger-like clutch of his long, lean -and felon fingers, as they closed round her -snow-white throat. -</p> - -<p> -'Mercy, Guebhard—mercy!' she gasped; -'I am too young—too young—perhaps too -wicked—to die!' -</p> - -<p> -Fate was upon her, and Guebhard was -no longer a reasoning being. There were -tears in her starting and bloodshot eyes, -and clamorous fury gathered in Guebhard's -heart, while his infernal gripe grew closer; -her arms fell powerless by her side—he felt -the tumultuous heavings of her bosom -against his own. Sense had not left her; -she could not doubt the desperate character -of his attack, and though she ceased to -struggle, her eyes spoke, and with such a -language that Guebhard dared not look on -them again—they seemed so mournfully to -implore his mercy—but his heart, blazing -with the insensate hate that springs from -baffled love, knew none! -</p> - -<p> -In vain; his gripe grew tighter upon her -delicate throat, that was all symmetry and -whiteness: a terrible spasm convulsed her -frame; then he knew that all was over, -that she was dead in his hands, and daring -no more to look upon her, he flung her -over the awful cliff close by; and that he -might not hear the sound, if any, that came -from below, he sank on his knees, and -covered his ears with his hot tremulous -hands. So perished Margarita! -</p> - -<p> -Her death was not the first that lay on -Guebhard's soul, no doubt; but, for a -minute, he scarcely seemed to breathe, and -his wild glaring eyes seemed to wander -stealthily in the air, in the woods, and on -the ground beneath him, as if to avoid the -last glance of appealing despair, that seemed -to confront him everywhere now. -</p> - -<p> -The leaves of the trees seemed to become -eyes—then tongues that whispered, he -knew not what. -</p> - -<p> -'Margarita!' said he involuntarily, and, -to his overstrained fancy, a thousand echoes -seemed to give back the name of the dead—the -dead girl that, though mangled and -lying far down below, was not yet cold. -</p> - -<p> -'Margarita!' he said again, but in a -lower voice, the name breaking from him -in the instinct of the awful time, rather -than in conscious utterance. -</p> - -<p> -Suddenly the sound of approaching footsteps -met his ear. A man was ascending -the pathway to the shrine, and Guebhard, -who, in the agony and frenzy of the time, -had forgotten all about Cecil—for it was -he who was coming—dashed into the -copse-wood and fled from the spot like a -hunted hare, seeking the gloomiest spots -with that loathing of the light which it -has been averred some murderers feel. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap14"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER XIV. -<br /><br /> -THE BATTLE OF ZAITCHAR. -</h3> - -<p> -'How misfortune seems to dog me, -and all in whom I have ever -had a passing interest or regard!' -thought Cecil, as he rode on in rear -of his returning party, and recalled the -words of Antonio: -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - 'I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano;<br /> - A stage, where every man must play a part,<br /> - And mine a <i>sad one</i>.'<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -His thoughts went backward over the -few but ever-varying years of his own life; -his wanderings with his mother in Italy -and elsewhere; his service in India, so full -of adventure, change, peril and vivid colour; -marches over dusty and arid plains, and -through desert jungles, where luxuriant -vegetation had run riot for ages; the -pleasures of cities; the careless times in -camp and barrack, with Leslie Fotheringhame, -Dick Freeport, Acharn and others; -pig-sticking and fighting wild hill tribes; -of long balmy nights on the starlit Indian -or Arabian seas, while the crowded -transport ploughed on with her living freight; -the good fellowship of the splendid mess; -the love of his men, and though -remembered last, perhaps, not least, honest -Tommy Atkins, with the proffer of his -savings; of all that had been, and never -could be again; of gay nights and balls; -and, last of all, the ball that ruined him; -of Mary Montgomerie, and all the loss of -her meant to him; and again his thoughts -would revert to Margarita, and to what -had been—what could be now, her fate! -</p> - -<p> -Into that fate—if, as it seemed too -probable, some tragedy or catastrophe had -happened—he had neither time nor -opportunity given him to inquire. -</p> - -<p> -What could have come over her? was -his ever-recurring thought. Surely—even -in that land of atrocities—Heaven would -be too merciful to let a hair of her head be -injured, she was so good and pure, so -proud and true to herself and all. -</p> - -<p> -Betimes he rode into Deligrad, where -the tricolour waved on the armed rampart, -and the busy camp, with its streets of -tents and huts, still covered all the ground -beside the Morava. -</p> - -<p> -He proceeded straight to the winter -quarters of the staff, circular huts formed -of logs, planked and plastered with mud -externally, and thatched with straw and -reeds, and in one of these miserable abodes, -before which two sentinels paced, he found -Tchernaieff and a couple of officers, in rich -Russian uniforms, smoking cigars, and -making themselves as comfortable as they -could under the circumstances. -</p> - -<p> -He presented his papers, sketches and -memoranda, and made his report as to -finding all the country quiet, and seeing -nothing of the enemy's scouting or patrol -parties; and was warmly complimented by -the grim old Muscovite, who shook him -by the hand and presented him with an -acceptable bumper of wine, saying the -while, 'Deo Gratios!' and signing the -cross in the Russian fashion, with three -fingers from right to left. -</p> - -<p> -'I sent you again on a perilous and -important duty into a strange country,' -said Tchernaieff, 'and you accepted the -hazard as readily as you have performed -that duty.' -</p> - -<p> -'I am not used to weigh hazards or -danger, excellency,' replied Cecil; 'I am -the native of a country that never nurtured -fools or cowards, and now have my home here.' -</p> - -<p> -'In every land brave men find a home; -and for these memoranda I thank you, for -I have to send troops through that very -district towards Zaitchar. But you have -run greater risks than you are aware of, -for Circassian troops were concealed in -some of the woods through which you passed.' -</p> - -<p> -Cecil thought of the disappearance of -Margarita, and the evidence of the deserter -Guebhard's presence at the Krall Lazar; -but he only replied: -</p> - -<p> -'I have not set much store on my life, -since I came to Servia, at least. Besides, -general—of what need was thought—I -had your orders to obey—the King to -serve.' -</p> - -<p> -'Right; and now, good-morning, Captain -Falconer.' -</p> - -<p> -It was so; Cecil found that he had been -made captain of his troop, and was warmly -congratulated on this unexpected promotion -by his English comrades Pelham and -Stanley, whose society he preferred to all -others in camp, and the former said -laughingly to the latter, whom he had -taken into his confidence: -</p> - -<p> -'Either the count is—as I hope—a false -prophet, or Falconer's fated time is not -come yet; he has returned scatheless from -this duty, at all events.' -</p> - -<p> -The field was soon to be taken by a -portion, if not by all the army; more -fighting was to be seen, and Cecil, in the -overcharged state of his mind, welcomed -the chance of new excitement with a strange -species of grim joy. -</p> - -<p> -But now came tidings that, when -returning for the headquarters of General -Dochtouroff, Count Palenka had fallen -into the hands of a Circassian patrol, been -made prisoner, and carried, whether to -death or captivity, none knew; so that he, -anyway, was ignorant of the crime, or -catastrophe, that had darkened his home. -</p> - -<p> -At this time, some twelve battalions of -Turks occupied the town of Zaitchar, which -lies seventy miles north-eastward of -Deligrad, on the river Timok, and in the attack -on which, on the 18th of the preceding -July, Colonel Kireef, one of the bravest -officers of the Russian army, fell, after -receiving four wounds in succession. -</p> - -<p> -This position was now watched by only -a brigade of Servians, under Colonel -Medvidovski, a young officer concerning -whose movements and rashness Tchernaieff -became apprehensive; thus he desired -General Dochtouroff to repair to that -place for the purpose of aiding the colonel -with his advice and experience, and soon -after he reinforced him by a few Servians, -among whom was Cecil's troop of cavalry, -which was ordered to proceed by the Bovan -Pass, up which his troopers toiled slowly -in an autumn evening, and from the -summit of which a vast expanse of woody -country could be seen, wearing all the -varied tints of the season. A twelve miles -march brought him to Banja, where he -halted for a time, and then resumed his -route over the mountains, by a path -sometimes so narrow that he had to reduce his -sections of fours to files, but all pushed on -unwearyingly and full of enthusiasm, as a -battle in the vicinity of Zaitchar was -confidently anticipated. -</p> - -<p> -In the ranks of the army against which -they were marching now was, no doubt, -his bitter enemy, Mattei Guebhard, -commissioned and with rank, probably, because -of his defection, and Cecil knew that in -close quarters the rascal, if possible, would -be sure to seek him out. -</p> - -<p> -'Well,' thought he, 'he is right welcome -to do so;' aware that if once he got Mattei -Guebhard covered by his pistol or within -reach of his sword it would go hard with -him if one red fez was not struck to the -dust. -</p> - -<p> -The smoke of burning hamlets, which -had fallen a prey to bands of Bashi -Bazouks, curled up here and there through -the russet, green and yellow of the woods, -on either side of the line of march, -indicating the close approach to the vicinity of -the enemy, whose troops were mustering -near the Timok, after crossing which, by a -wooden bridge, Cecil could see the -white-walled houses of Zaitchar shining in the -sun; but from thence he had to proceed, -by marching in the night, into the valley -of Krivovirski Timok, where he overtook -the troops under General Dochtouroff, to -whom he instantly reported himself, and -Colonel Medvidovski, pushing on for the -great business of the day. -</p> - -<p> -The cavalry cloaks were rolled up and -buckled to the saddles, girths and bridle -reins carefully inspected, the edges of the -swords tested, and the loading of all -revolvers and carbines looked to. -</p> - -<p> -A drizzling rain had fallen overnight, -and a dim, silvery haze was floating up -from the dark woodlands and the deep -valley through which the Timok was -rolling away to meet the Danube, and the -occasional boom of a heavy gun pealing -through the murky morning air, followed -now and then by a sharp rattle of -rifle-muskets, indicated that the column of -Count Keller, who was acting in concert -with Dochtouroff, and had already got -into action, had been partially repulsed, -and was retiring. -</p> - -<p> -'Push on!' was the cry on every hand. -</p> - -<p> -'<i>Rishu</i> (trot), <i>galloppe!</i> (gallop)' were -the orders for the cavalry, and in sections -of fours that arm of the service went -quickly to the front, and with loud cheers, -though to the infantry was assigned most -of the grim work to be done that day. -</p> - -<p> -Cecil, in India, and more recently in -Servia, had been too often under fire to -feel any novelty in the situation now. -Rather reckless, he had no particular -anxiety so far as concerned his own safety -or ultimate escape. He had but one distinct -idea: that rather than be disabled by -a wound, and thus rendered helpless, homeless, -and penniless, he would prefer death -outright! -</p> - -<p> -He felt for a time a little tightening of -the chest as the hollow boom of the cannon -on the left front became louder and louder; -but even that sensation passed away, and -he rode on with much of indifference, -varied at times by that emotion which a -true soldier—especially a soldier of -fortune—can never be without—a desire for -distinction and honour. -</p> - -<p> -The whole scene around him was inspiriting -and full of the highest excitement. -Heavily laboured the horses of the -artillery to get the guns and ponderous -waggons up the steep ascents that -overhung the river. At each recurring rise -the drivers flogged and spurred, and the -gunners pushed behind, or with sinewy -hands urged round the spokes of the -wheels; horses stumbled, and traces -strained to the verge of breaking, till the -hill crests were won, and the downward -progress began. -</p> - -<p> -Fifteen thousand Servians and Russians -were forming in columns for the attack, -and the bright sheen of bayonets and -swords flashing in the morning sun came out -of their sombre masses of brown, grey, and -dark screen. Over the former waved the -tricolours of Milano Obrenovitch; but the -black eagle and tricolour of the 'Monarch -of the Snows' were displayed by the latter. -</p> - -<p> -Zaitchar was to be the centre of the -operations, and to maintain that position -were sixteen thousand Turks or more, who -had covered it with earthworks and batteries -for three miles in front of the town, -defending it in the form of an arc. -</p> - -<p> -Many of the Servian regiments were -armed with old muzzle-loaders and smooth-bores, -while the blue-clad Turks, whose -fezzes in long scarlet lines dotted out the -position, had breechloading Snider rifles -and Krupp cannon; so the two armies -were far from being equally matched, either -in appointments or valour. -</p> - -<p> -Count Keller's column, descending from -the mountains on the south coast, was to -co-operate with Dochtouroff against -Zaitchar; Medvidovski's column formed the -centre, and other brigades and columns, -led by leaders who have no connection -with our story, and whose barbarous names -would only puzzle the reader, made up the -force which menaced the little town of -Zaitchar in the form of a semicircle, at an -average radius of seven miles. -</p> - -<p> -The cracking of rifles and the white -spurts of smoke starting up from fields, -green hedges, and other enclosures, -indicated the commencement of the attack, as -some companies in skirmishing order were -thrown out on right and left, and then -came the thunder of the Krupp guns from -Veliki Izvor, the chief point of the Turkish -position. -</p> - -<p> -In their brown tunics and blue, glengarry-like -caps, the Servian columns were -closing steadily up, with loud hoarse cheers -and cries; but louder and higher above -them rang the 'Allah-Allah Hu!' of the -more confident and resolute Turkish infantry. -</p> - -<p> -From a five gun-battery on the right, -Herzberg, a skilful officer, was throwing -shells with great precision among the -latter, and Cecil viewed with growing -interest a column of Servian infantry -deploying from that point with greater skill -and order than he had seen in Servia -before, as it was led by two brave and -well-trained British officers, Pelham and -Stanley. Down the hill this column came -at a rush under the fire of the Turkish -gunners, who from amid the dim smoke on -Veliki Izvor threw shells thick and fast -among them; but the column was under -the shelter of a wood, amid the russet and -yellow foliage of which it disappeared, until -it emerged again to open fire upon the -enemy's lines, now almost completely -enveloped in smoke, while the roar of -rifle-musketry made the welkin ring. But the -column which had deployed and advanced -so well was repulsed by the Turks, and -fell back, disputing every inch of ground; -nor could any effort on the part of Pelham, -Stanley, and other officers induce the -soldiers of it to reform and advance again: -for the Servians are but timid men at -best. -</p> - -<p> -Over dead and wounded men and horses, -over ground torn, furrowed, and cut up by -bursting shells and artillery wheels, over -gouts of blood and pools of water, the -Servians were now falling confusedly back, -after terrible losses, when Dochtouroff -gave the order for the reserve to advance. -</p> - -<p> -'Up they jumped, without waiting for -any second order,' says a British officer in -his narrative, 'and ran with great speed, -firing off their guns and cheering loudly. -There was only one fault to be found with -them, and that was that they unfortunately -ran and fired in the wrong direction! In -vain Dochtouroff shouted; in vain he -swore, but they only ran the faster. I -asked him to allow me to try and compel -them, with the aid of my sword and -revolver, to halt, front, and charge the -enemy. "No, no," said he; "they are not -worth wasting powder on. Nothing can -stop them, and the day is lost."' -</p> - -<p> -On all sides now were heard the shrieks -and half-stifled groans of the wounded, the -last sobs of the dying, and piteous -entreaties for water or for aid. Faces paled -by death and smeared with blood were -everywhere; the green grass, the purple -violets of autumn that grew wild, like the -white cups of the arum lilies, were all -splashed and empurpled with the same -ghastly tint. The bodies in some places -lay across each other in piles, the swarthy, -brown-clad Servian soldier and the more -swarthy Turk, with his red fez and his -shining military buttons, the badge worn -by all ranks, from the Sultan to the drummer-boy. -</p> - -<p> -By some mistake the Servian artillery -were prematurely ordered to retire, and -thus, as the supports had failed, the retreat -became general, and by three in the -afternoon the action was over; but ere this -Cecil had been in one or two cavalry -charges to check pursuit, and to do him -justice, General Dochtouroff left nothing -undone by personal example and by brief -harangues in Servian and Russian to prevent -the retreat from becoming a headlong -rout along the Lukova road. -</p> - -<p> -Outstripping the <i>Assakiri Mansurei Mohamediges</i>, -as the regular infantry of the -Turkish army boast themselves to be, -some of their cavalry came on with -wonderful <i>élan</i>. At one point Cecil got -his squadron to form a front by going -threes about, as a corps of Turkish lancers -came on, with swords jangling, accoutrements -rattling, and their green pennons—the -holy colour—streaming straight out -over their scarlet fezzes. A sharp, short -word of command in Turkish, a sharper -note from a trumpet, the lance-points -flashed in the air as they came down to the -charge, and the horses from a rapid trot -rushed on in a wild gallop, and in a -moment there was a shock, a crash, and a -wild and terrible <i>mêlée</i>. -</p> - -<p> -Saddles were emptied, and steeds and -riders went down on every side; but -Cecil's Servians, despite his fiery example, -could make no impression on the Turks. -Resolute in aspect, beetle-browed, keen-eyed, -and hawk-nosed, they come on with -heads stooped in full career, their cries of -'Allah, Allah!' rending the air; and -whenever a Servian, sword in hand, -attempted to close, their couched lances -bristled against his arm or his horse's -breast; so the former pressed on, in an -invulnerable line, till Cecil's troopers fairly -gave way, and quitted the field on the -spur with bridles loose, sweeping him -away with them, for Servian courage and -Servian honour were sorely tarnished on -that day in front of Zaitchar; nor did the -cavalry and other fugitives fairly stop till -they reached a place called Balgivac, some -thirteen miles from the field of battle, -where Medvidovski and his staff had halted. -</p> - -<p> -Dispirited and disgusted with the result -of the day—not that he had any vital -interest in it—but, wet, cold, weary and -exhausted, Cecil flung himself on the bare -earth, like nearly all around him, without -food or rations of any kind; and thus he -was found by Stanley, Pelham and another -English volunteer, who shared his brandy-flask -with them all, and they spent the -remainder of the night in comparing notes -of the past day's heartless work, reviling -the Servians, their want of mettle and -discipline, and drawing comparisons -between them and 'our own fellows,' that -were far from flattering to the troops of -His Majesty King Milano Obrenovitch. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap15"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER XV. -<br /><br /> -A RIDE FOR LIFE OR DEATH! -</h3> - -<p> -Cecil's troop, which had lost -heavily in the encounter with -the Turkish lancers, escorted -some of the wounded and sick to the camp -at Deligrad, passing through a beautiful -valley, and skirting the slopes of Mount -Urtanj, one of the greatest hills in Servia. -The way was of the roughest and steepest -kind; his progress was slow, with a convoy -of blood-stained, tattered and dying -creatures. It was a march he never -forgot, and from one circumstance, perhaps, -more than all. He met <i>en route</i> the old -village pope (or priest) of Palenka, -mounted on one of the shaggy, hardy little -ponies, and from him—amid many an -exclamation of lamentation, sorrow and -anathema—he learned distinct tidings of -the fate of Margarita, and that her remains -had been found by some woodcutters at the -base of the cliff below the Krall Lazar -chapel, and a storm of terrible emotion -swelled up in Cecil's heart, as he listened -to the broken accents of the priest. Great -was his horror and great his pity! He -forgot all the vengeance he personally -owed Guebhard in this new, unthought-of -and more terrible debt, and sadly and -touchingly the rare beauty of the dead -girl and her devotion to himself came back -to memory now! -</p> - -<p> -Full of thought that could take no -coherent form in words, he rode on as one -in a dream, and almost oblivious now of all -around him; of the sufferings of those -who formed his miserable convoy; of the -dark blood dripping through the straw, -from half-dressed wounds, that burst out -afresh; of the groans and cries elicited by -every jolt of the clumsy ambulance -waggons; of the monotonous rumbling of -the wheels that shook and jarred against -ruts and stones; even of the deaths that -were occurring from time to time, leaving -the dead and the living side by side, while -the forest birds of prey hovered over his -sorrowful line of march, and followed it, in -anticipation of a banquet. -</p> - -<p> -He thought of Margarita, who, he felt -assured, had perished thus awfully through -her love for himself, and through the -assignation made at the way-side chapel—an -assignation of which Guebhard must—by -some unaccountable means—have become -cognisant; and then he thought of Guebhard, -the half Bulgarian, and sighed in -fury through his clenched teeth—'Oh, to -be near Guebhard, but for a minute!' -</p> - -<p> -But the latter was nearer him then he -could well have imagined. -</p> - -<p> -For food and rest, and to have his -wounded attended to, and the dead taken -from amid the living to a place of interment, -he halted at a village which was -indicated in his 'route,' on the slope of -Mount Mezlani, just as darkness was -closing in, and through the net work of -the forest branches the western sky glowed -vivid with lurid light, though darkness -had fallen on the valleys far below the -mountain slopes, and a busy time he had -of it, with a couple of surgeons, a staff of -soldier-nurses and orderlies, going from -waggon to waggon, and hearing but one -reiterated story of suffering, one repeated -chorus of cries, moans and often curses. -</p> - -<p> -Seeking the only <i>cafane</i> in the place, he -dismounted at the door, had a dish of hot -<i>poprikash</i> and black coffee, dashed well -with brandy—of which, as his duty was -not yet over, he partook standing, and -was in the act of lighting a cigarette, when -a man, dressed like a Servian peasant, but -marvellously well mounted for such, -approached the door, and without quitting his -saddle, asked in a low and timid, or -somewhat uncertain voice, for some refreshment. -</p> - -<p> -The voice of the stranger gave Cecil a -species of electric shock, for 'there is no -instinct so rapid and so unerring as the -instinct of a foe;' and despite the -voluminous dark beard and peasant garb, he -recognised the clearly cut features, the -hawk-like nose with delicate nostrils, and -the black beady eyes of Guebhard! -</p> - -<p> -The voice, the sight, the presence of -this man after the awful narrative of the -village pope so recently told, and now -acting suspiciously as a spy in the interests -of the enemy, roused Cecil's blood to fever -heat. As a deserter, spy and assassin, this -man's life was trebly forfeited, and Cecil -left his seat, slowly and deliberately to -avoid giving alarm, and feeling in his heart -a grim sweetness in the idea that the -destroyer of Margarita was to perish by <i>his</i> hand! -</p> - -<p> -But, as he moved towards the door of -the <i>cafane</i>, the light of a lamp fell upon -him, and he was instantly recognised by -the renegade, who remained in his saddle -outside an open window. -</p> - -<p> -Guebhard started violently; a ferocious -vindictiveness sparkled in his eyes; his -face grew paler with rage and alarm that -were evidently mingled with a panther-like -desire to rush at Cecil. He ground his -teeth; he quivered in every limb; and -then, suddenly seized by a panic of fear, -fired three shots from a revolver at Cecil, -wheeled round his horse and galloped away. -</p> - -<p> -Every shot went wide of its mark, and -another moment saw Cecil in his saddle, -in hot pursuit, guided for a time only by -the sound of the flying hoofs. Careless of -whither he rode, even if right into the -Turkish lines, he dashed on, goring his -horse with sharp rowels at every bound. -</p> - -<p> -'Halt, dog and scoundrel!—halt, or die!' -he cried again and again. -</p> - -<p> -Guebhard was now about a hundred -yards ahead, but that distance lessened -fast as Cecil tore after him, his pistol -levelled twenty times ere he would risk a -shot, as there was no time for reloading, -and the night-clouds were deepening fast. -</p> - -<p> -They were in full race—pursuer and -pursued. Cecil fired two chambers; but -both must have missed, as Guebhard -neither winced nor fell, but fired at -random in return. -</p> - -<p> -'The fiend take him!' was the latter's -thought; 'he baulked my night's work -once, and slew my Montenegrin comrade, -and I have already missed him, shot after -shot!' -</p> - -<p> -Without other thought than flight, -Guebhard, aware that he was unable to -defend himself now that his pistols were -empty, and knowing that his personal -strength and skill with the sword were -inferior to those of Cecil's, spurred wildly -on and on, with every respiration tasting -all the bitterness of anticipated death in -his coward heart, expecting every instant -to feel a shot pierce his back like a red-hot -bolt and stretch him there to feed the -wolves and carrion crows. -</p> - -<p> -Guebhard, perhaps, was not quite a -coward by nature; but somehow the -panic of an utter poltroon possessed him -now. Was it the terrible deed he had -done at the chapel of Krall Lazar that -unnerved his heart and unstrung his sinews? -It must have been so. The last glance he -had seen in the eyes of Margarita haunted -him; and he thought of that delicate and -faultless form lying mangled at the foot of -the cliff to become the prey of vultures -and wild animals now, when his own end -seemed so terribly close and nigh, at the -hands of her avenger—the man he had so -often wantonly wronged, and who, he -knew, would be pitiless as a famished tiger. -</p> - -<p> -If he had remorse, it was curiously -mingled with an emotion of jealous -triumph, that to this man Margarita was -lost for ever—wrested from him by his -hands, as we have said, and that Death -alone was her possessor now! -</p> - -<p> -'Coward, rein up!—your sword—your -sword to mine!' cried Cecil, more than -once; but neither taunt, sneer, nor threat -availed him then. -</p> - -<p> -At this time he felt in his heart much -of that emotion which a writer calls 'the -religion of revenge, which had been sacred -to his forefathers, in the age when -murderers were proven by bier-right, and for -wrong, the Fiery Cross of war was borne -alight over moor and mountain.' -</p> - -<p> -Fiercely, high and tumultuously, coursed -the blood through his veins. Every -muscle was strained, like those of a -race-horse in the field, for he had an awful -penalty to exact, and Guebhard knew well -that he had a terrible debt to pay—one for -which not even his life and the last drop -of his blood would atone. -</p> - -<p> -Yet Guebhard, perhaps, could not have -told whether he most loved or hated the -memory of the girl he had destroyed. -</p> - -<p> -He knew that too probably, if steel and -lead failed, if once in the grasp of Cecil, -the latter would trample him to death, -choke him like a viper with a heel upon -his throat; and, sooth to say, such was -the terrible idea that occurred to the -pursuer at times while, with fiery exultation, -he found himself gaining upon his prey. -</p> - -<p> -The sweat of a great mortal agony -gathered on the temples of Guebhard; his -mouth was parched; his breath came short -and fast; and, half-turning in his saddle, -he could see, in the starlight, the white -set face of his pursuer almost within arm's -length of him, and the outstretched head -of his horse more than once actually in a -line with his crupper. -</p> - -<p> -The black beard had fallen off now. -</p> - -<p> -'How,' thought Cecil; 'how came it to -pass that this man, so full of the common -vulgar terror of mere physical peril, ever -turned soldier—even in name!' -</p> - -<p> -He next thought it was fortunate that, -owing to the slowness of the past day's -march, and the short length of it, his -horse was tolerably fresh; but that of -Guebhard seemed to be in the same condition. -</p> - -<p> -He recalled the assassin-like attempts on -his own life; his being tracked in the forest; -wellnigh done to death and buried alive; -he recalled the forged document which -brought, for a time, dishonour on him and -destruction close indeed; but more than -all did he think of Margarita, done to -death so terribly; and Guebhard thought -of all these things as he rode wildly on, -and the other as wildly and madly pursued him. -</p> - -<p> -He had wrested her from his enemy, -and what he had done he would not have -undone even had he the power. Since she -would not, and could not, be his, she was -lost to the other—dead!—taken by his -hand, and yet he feared to die! -</p> - -<p> -Whatever the wretch Guebhard felt -when alone was given way to there, in the -darkness, to the full. No spectator or -chance visitor—none of those with whom -he had mingled in the Turkish camp—ever -saw a change in the pale, delicate, -and immutable face of the destroyer, or -could have detected the dread secret his -calm, soft smile concealed. -</p> - -<p> -He had always feared, however, that -sooner or later retribution would come; -that his desertion, if not his other crimes, -would find him out, and strike him down -in the hour of fancied security, and -now—now it seemed that the time of fate had come! -</p> - -<p> -Cecil's last shot had been expended; but -as revolver-firing is always dubious, and -in certainty every way inferior to the old -single or double-barrelled pistol, that shot -had only grazed the shoulder of Guebhard, -who was next aware that Cecil had drawn -his sword, the steel blade of which -glittered blue and grim in the starry light! -</p> - -<p> -Where were their horses taking them—towards -the Morava, or the valley of the Timok? -</p> - -<p> -Cecil gave no thought to this, nor cared; -down steep pathways, jagged with rocks; -through orchards, more than once; past -fields of flax and Indian corn; past walls -laden with vines; past houses and farmsteads, -sunk in darkness and silence; past -villages, where pariah dogs barked and -howled at them; through woods, where -the interwoven foliage was dense above, -and the late violets grew thick and fragrant -below, and the wild acanthus spread -its beautiful leaves. -</p> - -<p> -Anon, down narrow gorges where the -arbutus and laurel overhung the way; then -thundering along the worn pavement of -some old Roman road; now so close that -they could hear each other breathing; and -anon, a horse's length asunder, as some -obstruction—a laurel root or a vine -tendril—gave momentary hopes to the fugitive. -</p> - -<p> -Of the way he went in this night ride -for death and life—for retribution and -punishment—Cecil had no knowledge and -took no heed; he seemed to follow it, as -we follow paths in dreams; yet he did so -unvaryingly, and unswervingly. -</p> - -<p> -At last the darkness became so intense -by the thickness of the foliage overhead, -in a deep and narrow way, that Cecil failed -to make out the figure of the fugitive for a time. -</p> - -<p> -The sound of their own breathing and -that of their horses, with the crash of the -hoofs, alone broke the stillness of the -night—of the world it almost seemed—where all -things slept amid the utter tranquillity that -had fallen everywhere. -</p> - -<p> -They rushed down steeps, where the loose -and perilous stones emitted showers of -sparks when struck by the iron hoofs; the -necks of their horses were outstretched -like those of racers; their flanks heaved, -and their bridles and breasts were covered -with white foam flecks. -</p> - -<p> -In the gloomy way, under the forest -trees, Cecil—we have said—failed to see -the figure of him he pursued—but he could -hear his horse's hoofs crashing on before -him, and he followed the sound. He -neared the animal, a grey, closer and closer, -as now its speed seemed to slacken; with a -low fierce exclamation, he came abreast of -it, only to find the saddle empty, and the -rider—gone! -</p> - -<p> -But whether the latter had taken his -feet out of the stirrups, caught the branch -of a tree and swung himself up into it, or -threw himself off amid some thick underwood -and crept quietly and safely away, -Cecil could not determine. But one fact -remained; he saw no more of Guebhard -for that night! -</p> - -<p> -His mortification and disappointment at -being suddenly baffled thus, were extreme; -and his disgust was enhanced in no small -degree by the humiliating conviction, that -the sooner he was clear of that identical -wooded way the better for himself, as he -knew not from what tree, or clump of -underwood he might, at any moment, be -covered by the pistol of Guebhard, lurking -in security and unseen. -</p> - -<p> -Where was he now, and how to find his -way back to where he had left his convoy -of ambulance waggons? -</p> - -<p> -He had noted no land marks—taken no -heed of the way he had come. He had -seen before him Guebhard, and Guebhard -only! He must have ridden many -miles—how many he knew not, and now his -horse was weary and blown. -</p> - -<p> -Fortunately for him, his orders were to -halt at the village he had left for the -night, and to begin the next day's march at -noon, or as soon after as the wants of the -wounded and sick had been attended to; and -steering his way chiefly by the stars, he -rode slowly on his return, with an irritating -sense of annoyance, humiliation, and -disquietude, as, for all he knew, he might be -close in the vicinity of the enemy and fall -into their hands. -</p> - -<p> -He rode slowly and warily, and fortune -favoured him; about dawn he found himself -near the little town of Kragojeratz, on -the right bank of the river Lepenitza, a -tributary of the Morava, and there his -Servian uniform at once procured him a -mounted guide to the village he had left, -and from which he was then about twenty -miles distant. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap16"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER XVI. -<br /><br /> -WHAT THE 'TIMES' TOLD. -</h3> - -<p> -Jaded and weary, Cecil began -the homeward march, and -strange to say, the effect of -the long and revengeful pursuit of -Guebhard on his mind was this: that he -felt—if not less resentment and hatred against -that personage—a desire that when condign -punishment befell him, it might come -from some other hand than his. -</p> - -<p> -He felt somewhat soothed by a -conviction of the abject terror and deep -humiliation to which he had subjected -Guebhard; yet, ever and anon, the narrative -of the village pope gave his heart a -pang of positive pain. -</p> - -<p> -Again in Deligrad, to him the scene of -so much suffering and unmerited degradation. -</p> - -<p> -'What am I to do now with the remainder -of this life that is left to me?' he -thought, wearily, as he dismounted from -his horse, and tossed the bridle reins to his -orderly, leaving his painful convoy now -to the care of the doctors and nurses, -though many were there who were beyond -all human care, and would only answer -now to the reveille that would be heard in -the unknown land. -</p> - -<p> -He gladly sought out the log hut shared -by Stanley and Pelham, whose regiment, -with many more of the troops lately -engaged in the assault on the Turkish lines -at Zaitchar, had now come into cantonments. -As an abode, the hut was nearly -as wretched as any of ours in the Crimea. -</p> - -<p> -The soil of the floor was banked up in -the centre and at the sides; the former -acting as the site of a fireplace, the latter -for two beds. Four upright posts driven -into the earth and boarded all round, -formed the chimney, and thereon hung -swords, revolver cases, field glasses, flasks, -pannikins, etc. -</p> - -<p> -A few boxes, bullock trunks and bottles -full or empty, formed the furniture, and -upon a species of couch improvised from the -former and covered by a bear's skin lay -Stanley, in half undress, with a cigar in -his mouth. His figure was tall and slight, -and it set off the dingy brown uniform, -more than the latter set off him. He had -the upright military carriage he had won -in the Household Brigade; he had still -the suppleness of youth, and eyes that had -lost none of their fine, clear and honest -fire of expression. -</p> - -<p> -He sprang to his feet as Cecil entered -and gave him a cheery shout of welcome. -Pelham was on duty, but Stanley duly did -the honours of their mutual abode, and -produced from some mysterious receptacle -dishes, glasses, knives, cold ration beef -with tomato salad (tomatoes were plentiful -in the camp at Deligrad), bread, wine and -a box of havannas. He bustled about like -a frank jolly Englishman as he was now, -and all unlike the <i>blasé</i> frequenter of -Belgravian ball-rooms he had been, and -would yet become again; but while listening -to Cecil's exciting account of his race -over night, it was evident to the narrator -that he had in his face a preoccupied and -perplexed expression, though rather a -bright one. -</p> - -<p> -'What is up, old fellow?' asked Cecil, -who had been observing him narrowly; -'you seem as if you had something on your -mind—something cheery too. Are you -about to quit this work as not very -remunerative?' -</p> - -<p> -'That I shall no doubt do in time, if -some Turkish bullet does not knock me on -the head,' replied Pelham, as he carefully -selected a fresh cigar; 'but I have something -in my mind—whether cheery or not, -I cannot say; but finish your meal—fill -your glass again, and then we'll have a talk -about it.' -</p> - -<p> -While Cecil satisfied an appetite the -result of much recent exposure and exercise, -Stanley produced a worn, frayed and very -tattered copy of the Times—a copy that -was now a month or two old. -</p> - -<p> -'By Jove! when I look upon this paper, -"how the old time comes o'er me," as -Claud Melnotte says,' exclaimed Stanley; -'and Regent Street, the Row, the clubs -with their bow-windows, the parks, the -coaching meet, the collar days at Buckingham -Palace—the bank guard, pocketing the -guinea and punishing the port, the West -End—how London, one and all, with its -beauties, comforts and luxuries appear in -mental procession, making one long to -leave Servia and Servian affairs to the -care of the devil; for the lark is over—the -game played out; I for one have had -enough of it, and home is now the place -for me!' -</p> - -<p> -Cecil sighed. -</p> - -<p> -He had no—<i>home</i>! -</p> - -<p> -'To what is all this the preface?' he asked. -</p> - -<p> -'To nothing; it is only the expression -of my own thoughts; but there is a notice -in the <i>War Office Gazette</i> here—where the -deuce—oh, here it is. I have heard you -speak, more than once, quite incidentally, -of the Cameronians.' -</p> - -<p> -'Likely enough—I knew some of them—once.' -</p> - -<p> -Cecil winced as he spoke, for Stanley -was eyeing him keenly, and then said: -</p> - -<p> -'Look here, old fellow, do you know -anything of this—this name—Pelham and -I have been puzzling our brains over the -announcement.' -</p> - -<p> -Cecil took the paper and gave a violent -start, with a half suppressed exclamation, -as he read: -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -'CAMERONIANS—The name of the officer, -the proceedings of the court-martial on -whom were cancelled, and who was -re-gazetted to this regiment in last week's -<i>Gazette</i>, is Captain Cecil Falconer -Montgomerie—not Captain Cecil Falconer, as -formerly.' -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -'Montgomerie—what can this mean!' -said Cecil almost involuntarily, and feeling -intensely perplexed. He was, beyond all -description, startled too, while a great rush -of joy and hope mingled in his heart, with -the surprise that possessed him. The -notice—the cancelled proceedings of the -court-martial, and the name evidently referred to -himself, but whence came this addition—the -surname of Montgomerie? -</p> - -<p> -Stanley was watching him silently. -Was all this the clue to much apparent -mental suffering, that Pelham and himself -had suspected and seen? Was this the -explanation of much in his manner that -seemed reserved and curt, when 'the -service' was spoken of, though they both -suspected shrewdly that he had been in -it—was 'an army man?' -</p> - -<p> -'You colour painfully, Cecil, old fellow,' -said he, patting him kindly on the -shoulder; 'but, if this gazette refers to -you——' -</p> - -<p> -'It does—it must—but why am I -named Montgomerie?' exclaimed Cecil, -impetuously. 'I have the name of Falconer.' -</p> - -<p> -'You have been in some scrape perhaps—who -among us has lived a life without -pain, or who among us has been -without reproach?' -</p> - -<p> -'I have lived a life—latterly at least—that -has had much of pain in it; and if -there was any reproach, it was unmerited—all!' -</p> - -<p> -'I can well believe it, and congratulate -you heartily,' exclaimed Stanley, clasping -his passive hand, while Cecil, still as one -in a dream, muttered about the name of -'Montgomerie?' -</p> - -<p> -'By Jove,' said Stanley, as a sudden -light broke upon him; 'I remember your -affair now, and the noise it made at -mess-tables. Well, well—court-martials are not -infallible—neither are the Horse Guards -authorities, for the matter of that. I -remember when we were lying in the -Wellington Barracks, how a fellow in the -Coldstreams—but have another glass of wine!' -</p> - -<p> -'Oh, Stanley,' said Cecil, in a broken -voice, 'you do not know—and never, never -may you know—what it is, and has been, -to live on day after day, under the cloud -that cast a gloom on my life! To bear, -with a dull aching of the heart—to exist -under a cloud and unexplainable shadow, -trying by some brilliant act, hoping by -well-done service, to redeem my name in -this——' -</p> - -<p> -'Well—in this devil of a country, to -which Pelham and I came, for a new -sensation, in search of a spree, in fact. I -know the world, Cecil—it is a cruel world, -even to the strong; and the best of us get -into scrapes with it.' -</p> - -<p> -'But I got into none—at least, none that -I can understand or explain,' replied Cecil, -a little incoherently. -</p> - -<p> -'Yet you were—were——' -</p> - -<p> -'Dismissed!' -</p> - -<p> -'Poor fellow—I remember well; and -this notice?' -</p> - -<p> -'Refers to me—it must—the sentence -of dismissal has been cancelled; though I -cannot understand how, or through whom. -I thought I had not a friend in the -world—save one,' he added, as he thought of -Mary. -</p> - -<p> -'How did all this cursed evil come -about?' -</p> - -<p> -And Cecil told him all—at least so far -as he knew. -</p> - -<p> -'I see it all, as plain as a pikestaff!' -exclaimed Stanley, when the latter -concluded; 'something has turned up—something -new come to light, and they've -reinstated you. You were dismissed -generally, not specifically, and so rendered -incapable of serving Her Majesty again; -it makes all the difference in the world! -Another bumper of wine, to re-wet the old -commission!' -</p> - -<p> -Cecil drained the glass like one who was -sore athirst, for he was then under -considerable mental excitement. -</p> - -<p> -Restored to his rank and to the old -Cameronians—the cloud under which he -had left the service, and which so nearly -broke his heart, dispelled! The proceedings -of that most fatal court-martial, which -in his dreams had so often haunted him as -a nightmare—cancelled, as if they had -never been; how had all this come to pass, -and who was the guardian angel that had -brought it about? -</p> - -<p> -A fever of impatience possessed him. -But he could not yet, with honour, quit -the Servian army, though he had the -power of resigning at any moment. He -had no official letter; perhaps the Horse -Guards knew not where he was—and -letters, if any, for him, might be at the -bottom of the Morava, as a mishap had -befallen the mail; and more than all, a -general action—a great battle, a decisive -one for Servia, was confidently believed to -be upon the tapis. -</p> - -<p> -Then he would think, if it should be all -some mysterious mistake, and this notice -referred, by a blunder, to some one else—a -mistake, after all—after all! for he had -been so long accustomed to the frowns of -Fortune, that he feared she would never -smile upon him permanently again. -</p> - -<p> -'By the way, old fellow,' said Stanley, -suddenly, 'there is a letter for you, in the -care of Pelham; it may throw some light -on all this.' -</p> - -<p> -'A letter—official?' -</p> - -<p> -'No.' -</p> - -<p> -'A letter—from whom?' -</p> - -<p> -'How should I know?' said Stanley, -laughing; 'it is all over postmarks, -anyway. The dragoon bringing the mails from -Belgrade was shot by some Circassians, and -fell into the Morava. Some woodman -saved a bag or two, but the letters were -nearly destroyed; and here comes Pelham -with yours. We only got duns from London -tradesmen, and laughed as we lit our -pipes with them here.' -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap17"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER XVII. -<br /><br /> -MARY'S LETTER. -</h3> - -<p> -Whether he thanked Pelham -for what he brought him; how -he bade the former and Stanley -adieu, and in what terms he did so, -Cecil never gave thought to, nor did he -remember; he was only aware of one fact, -that the letter placed in his hand, crumpled, -sodden, spotted with blood of the Servian -dragoon, and partly defaced by the water -of the Morava, was from Mary—from -Mary Montgomerie; and oblivious of all -else the world contained, he rushed away, -breathlessly, to the solitude of his own -tent, to peruse it. -</p> - -<p> -Amid all it had undergone in transmission, -the tinted paper on which it was -written retained a subtle, but faint -perfume. It was dated from Eaglescraig, -and nearly a month back, and was sorely -defaced and in some parts quite illegible. -</p> - -<p> -A letter from Mary! he had opened it, -hastily yet tenderly, with tremulous -fingers—for his hands, that never shook when -holding sword or pistol, shook now like -aspen twigs, and as he held the paper before -him a mist crept over his sight; for he -knew that her hand had touched the paper -and had written the lines that were there. -</p> - -<p> -'My own little Mary!' he murmured; -'on earth I have nothing whereby to be -worthy of you—and I have won and -retained your love!' -</p> - -<p> -He read on quickly and nervously, only -to return to the beginning, and read over -and over again; but in some places whole -lines had been obliterated. -</p> - -<p> -'My darling, oh my darling!' he read in -one place, 'we have traced you at last, -and learned from the newspapers that you -have escaped some awful peril, the details -of which have not yet been made public. -Write to us soon, and that you are coming -home—write to the general, if you will. -Oh, how happy he would be.' -</p> - -<p> -<i>He</i>—what mystery—what change was here? -</p> - -<p> -'And oh! my own Cecil, you ...... and -how can I tell it to you, although I -do so with joy, that now we know all—all -about the giddiness that seized you at the -ball, when talking with me, and how it was -caused by Hew—-Hew—the infamous and -cruel, who, as he has since confessed in -writing, when it was supposed he was dying, -that he drugged your wine—unseen by all!' -</p> - -<p> -Cecil paused and started to his feet, and -passed a hand across his throbbing forehead. -</p> - -<p> -'Drugged—oh, villain!—villain—vile -trickster!' he exclaimed, while tears, hot -and salt, came unbidden to his eyes. -</p> - -<p> -'Sir Piers,' continued the letter, 'the -general, as he will always have himself -called—the dear old thing!—went straight -to the Horse Guards about it, and saw the -commander-in-chief personally. You know -his position, services, and influence; and so, -dearest Cecil, you are again ..... -</p> - -<p> -'In the old corps,' said Cecil, as the letter -here was again illegible, 'as the <i>Gazette</i> -shows—Falconer—Montgomerie—why, -and under which name is the remainder of -my life to be passed?' -</p> - -<p> -A whole paragraph followed, so sorely -defaced that, with all his intense anxiety, -Cecil could make nothing of it; and yet -his future life might hinge on all that -paragraph contained or detailed. But he -failed to decipher it, save a word or two -here and there—among them the names of -'father—mother—cousin—my own cousin,' -and old John Balderstone was again and -again referred to, in connection with some -mysterious letters and documents he had -found in some mysterious way to all -appearance, and the whole bewildering -passage concluded thus: -</p> - -<p> -'Sir Piers deplores in his inmost heart -his harsh treatment of you and your poor -parents.' (My parents!) 'And craves -earnestly that you will return to your -home—to Eaglescraig, and to <i>me</i>, dearest -Cecil. He is telling me a long story about -India, and letters going by <i>dawk</i> (whatever -that may be) as I write, thus I scarcely -know what I am putting upon paper .... -Oh, how we all miss you, Cecil—I more -than all; but you will soon be coming back -to us now, thank God! Long and drearily -pass the days—the mornings and evenings -now at Eaglescraig; and I can but think of -you, so blighted apparently in life, so lost -to your own world, so ruined and so far -away from me, in a land of peril. I write -this to you on the merest chance, and in -the prayerful hope that it may reach you; -as we only learned your present terrible -whereabouts from a newspaper paragraph. -</p> - -<p> -'In Servia! oh, my love! what took -you to such an unheard-of place as Servia? -.... I never open the piano now; I dare -not trust myself to sing.' -</p> - -<p> -The sight of her writing sent ever -and anon a thrill to his heart, even as a -touch of her gentle and delicate hand -would have done. -</p> - -<p> -'You will be delighted to learn that the -quarrel or estrangement between your -friend Leslie Fotheringhame and my dear -Annabelle has all been explained away, and -they are to be married in two months; -but in the meantime Leslie has resolved -.... and to please me .... in Servia. -Ah, dearest Cecil, I thought such strange -things only occurred in novels and -melo-dramas as are occurring now to us! Only -think of ....' -</p> - -<p> -'Such strange things; to what does -she refer? More obliteration!' sighed -Cecil. -</p> - -<p> -And now the letter ended, as such documents -usually do, with many of the sweet, -if childish, endearing terms so appreciated -by lovers, and of which they never weary, -as they are meant for their eyes alone. -</p> - -<p> -How often Cecil read it, kissed it, and -strove to fill up and draw deductions from -the fragmentary passages, we shall not -pretend to say; but great food was given -to him for speculation and marvel. -</p> - -<p> -What was this miraculous discovery of -John Balderstone? What event had -produced such a beneficial effect upon -everyone, on the general and himself in -particular? How had it turned the heart of -the general to him, and to 'his parents,' -the ill-treatment of whom he deplored? -</p> - -<p> -That the general, a soldier and man of -the highest honour, smarting under a sense -of Hew Montgomerie's treachery to an -innocent man, had done as he had, by -putting himself instantly in communication -with the military authorities, and procuring -his restoration, as the victim of a -conspirator, Cecil could readily understand -and be profoundly grateful for; but beyond -that, all Mary's letter was to him—chaos! -</p> - -<p> -Mental questions occurred to him in -tiresome iteration. -</p> - -<p> -In the fever of his impatience and doubts -of all he wished elucidated, he drank some -wine, but it seemed destitute of strength -and coolness; he tasted some grapes, and -they failed to moisten his tongue; he -lighted a choice cigar, but its soothing -influence was gone. -</p> - -<p> -Mary's letter, delicious though it was to -receive, meant much more than he could -extract from it. What was all this new -mystery of which he had so suddenly -become the centre? Would she write -again—and when? -</p> - -<p> -He must write to her; but where might -she be at that precise time? At Eaglescraig, -without doubt. Their love was one -that had made them cleave unto each other -in the teeth of all adverse circumstances, -and hope naturally began to brighten -anew in Cecil's heart, as he turned -alternately from the puzzling notice in the -<i>Gazette</i> to Mary's equally puzzling letter. -</p> - -<p> -'Patience,' he would mutter; 'patience, -and in a little time all will be made clear.' -</p> - -<p> -But nevertheless he grew more impatient -than ever. -</p> - -<p> -How much of caressing tenderness, as -well as information of importance, had -been obliterated in Mary's letter by the -envious water of the Morava! When -would he obtain a key, a clue to it all? -</p> - -<p> -The soft, bright dreams that are so -frequent in our earlier years, and form a -part of our existence then, and which as -time goes on become greyer, duller, and -farther apart, and less tinted with sunshine, -were coming back to Cecil's heart again, as -he sat in his tent alone, and striving to -think it all out—the new mystery that -enveloped him. -</p> - -<p> -He lost no time in writing to her in -reply, a long and passionate letter; all the -longer and more passionate that he had -heard nothing of her for such a length of -time, and had all the pent-up emotion of his -heart to pour forth. Though he knew not -what was meant by the discoveries to which -she referred, he tendered through her all his -thanks to the general for his kindness, and, in -the exuberance of his joy, felt that he could -even forgive Hew for the malice he had -displayed and the terrible wrong he had -done him. Home! he would start for -home the moment he could hear from her -again, or get some details, some official -letter of instructions, on the subject that -perplexed him; and he deplored that as -matters stood he could not just then, with -honour, quit the army of the Morava. -<i>Why</i>, he did not tell her—that the -thunderclouds of a great battle were soon -to darken the air around Deligrad! -</p> - -<p> -The rumour spread rapidly, with many -exaggerations, that the 'Herr Capitan' in -Tchernaieff's own Dragoons was an officer -in the British army, and it greatly -enhanced the importance with which Cecil -was viewed in the Servian camp. -</p> - -<p> -If, ere he could leave that arena with -honour, he was doomed to fall in battle -now, it seemed to him hard to have to quit -life so suddenly, when it became full of -new value, and seemed more worth living! -</p> - -<p> -Often had he reflected that he had not -yet seen his thirtieth year, and that all the -maturity of life spread out before him, and -he felt that he had the spirit, energy, and -courage to carve out name and fame for -himself; but were either to be won in the -heartless struggle between Servia and -Turkey? He had always feared not; and -now, with a bright, glorious, and -triumphant revulsion of feeling, he felt it -mattered not. He had now a name and -career elsewhere! -</p> - -<p> -'I like this young fellow Falconer -immensely,' said Stanley to Pelham, as they -talked over his affairs after he left them; -'but I wish him well out of this camp and -country too, especially if he has new and -brighter prospects at home.' -</p> - -<p> -'Well,' replied Pelham, who, like -Stanley, was a handsome fellow, with -much of that easy but indescribable air -and manner of a man who has seen all the -world of life has to show, 'he has been -down on his luck—got court-martialled, it -seems, in some row, and is now reinstated -in his regiment and rank—squared it with -the F.M. at the Horse Guards and all that.' -</p> - -<p> -'With a girl he loved also—an heiress I -expect; and yet he is going in for the last -of this campaign.' -</p> - -<p> -'What of that—why shouldn't he see -the end of the fun?' -</p> - -<p> -'What of it? This much! won't it be -strange—very strange—if Count Palenka's -weird prediction comes true, and the poor -fellow gets bowled out after all?' -</p> - -<p> -'By Jove! I never thought of that. -What a fellow you are! But I don't -believe in predictions of gipsies, jugglers, -and things, don't you know.' -</p> - -<p> -But there was much in the memory and -the time—the memory of the count's dark -grave face, his manner and expression—that -impressed even the thoughtless -Stanley; so he dropped the subject, and -smoked on in silence. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap18"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER XVIII. -<br /><br /> -THE HEIGHTS OF DJUNIS. -</h3> - -<p> -It was the morning of the 20th -of October, and the bells of -St. Nestor's Monastery were -just tolling for matins, when the deep -hoarse boom of the Turkish Krupp guns -announced their attack upon Djunis, the -key of the Servian position, some almost -impregnable heights overlooking Deligrad -and the valley of the Morava. -</p> - -<p> -It was a wild and gusty morning. The -chill breeze was sweeping fiercely through -the groves and woodlands, casting their -dark and fitful shadows in the morning -sunshine on the ground beneath. There -the dead leaves were whirled in clouds to -and fro, and the green blades of the dewy -and yet untrodden grass shone like steel -or silver in the sheen of the level sun. -</p> - -<p> -Long ere this, the Servian and Russian -troops—three thousand of the latter had -joined only two months before—were -under arms, and all moving into the various -positions assigned to them; and the sombre -columns, in the brown uniforms of Milano, -or the dusky grey capotes of the Emperor, -were marching in masses up the steeps -and along the slopes, with their bayonets -and accoutrements flashing incessantly in -the sun, deploying, deepening, and extending, -anon reducing their front as some -natural obstruction came in the way, to -deploy in front formation again, the -tri-colours waving in the wind, while -occasionally the clear blast of a bugle was borne -past on it. -</p> - -<p> -Cecil's regiment, formed by squadrons of -which he commanded the leading one, had -all the cloaks rolled and strapped to the -pommel of the saddles. Baggage, valises, -and all that might impede the men in -action, were left in camp, and the edge and -point of the sword alone were looked to -for the work of the day, which was chiefly -to support a battery of guns and go -wherever they were wanted. -</p> - -<p> -'My God, I thank Thee!' thought Cecil, -with high and pure enthusiasm in his heart, -as he leaped on his horse that morning; -'to-day, whatever may happen—whatever -fate may befall me—I am again a Cameronian, -a Queen's officer, one of the true old -Cameronians who in every fight, from the -days of Dunkeld to the fall of Magdala, -have carried their colours with honour, and -given place to none!' -</p> - -<p> -And so he felt that it was as much in -the character of a British officer, as one in -the service of Milano Obrenovitch, he drew -his sword in what was eventually to prove -the last battle of the Servian war. -</p> - -<p> -The cavalry brigade to which he belonged -moved off by fours from the right -of squadrons. -</p> - -<p> -'<i>Shagaum-marche!</i> trot—<i>à levo!</i>—nà -préte!' (left wheel—forward!) followed, and -the column began to descend the Krusevac -road, moving to the left across a valley. -</p> - -<p> -Here he passed the infantry corps of -Pelham and Stanley, halted temporarily. -</p> - -<p> -'A cigar, Falconer,' said the former, -holding out his case. -</p> - -<p> -'Thanks—acceptable indeed in this chill -atmosphere.' -</p> - -<p> -'If I get knocked on the head to-day—' -began Pelham, who was rather a reckless -fellow. -</p> - -<p> -'A cheerful beginning!' said Stanley, -sharply; 'I wish you would shut up, old -man. But well, suppose you were so?' -</p> - -<p> -'My tragic fate would be mourned sincerely, -at least by many a sorrowful West-end -trader, in whose books my later annals -have been noted. But, ta, ta, -Falconer—there goes our bugle. Advance!' -</p> - -<p> -Shot dead by a Snider bullet in his heart, -poor Pelham, within an hour after this, -lay cold and stiff on the slope of the Djunis, -while his regiment took up its position in -front of the fast-advancing Turkish lines. -</p> - -<p> -With the three days' fighting that now -ensued we shall not trouble the reader, -further than with that portion which cannot -be omitted—the part that Cecil saw, and that -he bore in it, with what befell him there. -</p> - -<p> -Though Tchernaieff, on this day, placed -the management of the troops chiefly in -the hands of General Dochtouroff, he -seemed to be ubiquitous, and was seen -everywhere in rapid succession all over the -Servian position, assisting in the placing of -brigades here and there, on the most -advantageous ground, and, as an officer who was -present has recorded, 'he placed the troops -exactly where they were most needed, for -the Turks made their attack upon the very -positions he had fixed upon.' -</p> - -<p> -'Good-morning, Herr Capitan,' said he, -as he passed Cecil's squadron, which had -halted near some glassy steeps most difficult -of ascent, in rear of the Servian position; -'but it seems to me that the enemy has -got very correct information about all the -points of our ground.' -</p> - -<p> -'They have evidently been furnished -with a plan, excellency,' remarked a -Russian aide-de-camp, whose breast was -covered with Crimean and Khivan medals. -</p> - -<p> -'A plan!' exclaimed Cecil; 'how can -they have got it?' -</p> - -<p> -'How, but through the agency of that -scoundrel Guebhard, the renegade!' replied -Tchernaieff, with a dark frown, and a -Tartar-like gleam in his eyes; 'but the -seven gates of hell are always open, and if -he is here under fire, he may reach one of -them to-night!' -</p> - -<p> -'If not?' -</p> - -<p> -'And if he ever falls into my hands, it -will be an eye for an eye—a tooth for a -tooth—his wretched life against the many -lives lost to-day!' -</p> - -<p> -He galloped on; the battle had begun -in earnest now; fire and smoke enveloped -the whole position that towered skyward; -the booming of the heavy Krupp guns and -the roar of rifle-musketry loaded the air, -and amid it all the Grim Sergeant was -calling fast his ghastly roll, while Cecil -sat inactive, impatient in his saddle, and -longing to see some work cut out for the -cavalry. -</p> - -<p> -Wounded Servians and Russians came -pouring past from the heights, smeared -with blood and dust—the bronzed and -battle-hardened veterans of old wars and -the lad newly enrolled but a week before; -some were binding up their wounds as -they limped past, and some fell on the -way, and lay there prone, dead or in a -swoon, unheeded and untended—a painful -spectacle to look upon in cold blood. -</p> - -<p> -So closely was the attack of the position -pressed, and so mixed up did the batteries -of artillery and the brigades seem, that -amid the sulphureous cloud that enveloped -them it was difficult to know, sometimes, -which were Servian and which were Turkish. -</p> - -<p> -All day long around the steeps of the -Djunis the cannon boomed and the rattle -of musketry continued, and great was -the slaughter everywhere. Whatever -might have been the shortcomings of the -Servians in previous battles, all fought -well and nobly then, and the din of battle -all the livelong day rang between the -peaks of the wooded mountains, with a -thousand hollow reverberations, drowning -every sound elicited by human enthusiasm, -valour, suffering, or the heavy hand of -coming death. -</p> - -<p> -The smoke seemed to mingle with the -clouds, especially towards sunset, where -westward, beyond the mountain-tops, a -red and tempestuous sun was setting, filling -all the vast expanse with intense ruddy -light, that threw up intervening objects in -opaque and distinct outline. -</p> - -<p> -On many a face that had been bright -with youth and health in the morning the -sunset fell now, and left it cold, white, and -lifeless; the dusk drew on, and still the -terrible work of slaughter went forward -without ceasing. -</p> - -<p> -As it deepened into utter gloom, the -red, streaky, and incessant flashes from -hundreds of cannon burst forth incessantly; -the infantry sought each other's where-abouts -by their mutual firing, pouring it -in almost at random, while on one side -ever and anon burst forth the deep, hoarse -'Hurrah!' of the Muscovite and Slav, on -the other the incessant and shrill high -shout of 'Allah, Allah, hu!' till, as if by -mutual consent, the contest ceased, and -both armies lay down, weary and worn, to -endure hunger, thirst, and cold, on the -ground where they had fought, and -surrounded by all the agony and horrors of -their mutual carnage. -</p> - -<p> -Many lay down on that night on the -slopes of the Djunis who never rose again. -</p> - -<p> -Cecil passed it rolled in his cloak beside -his charger, with a stone for a pillow; but -sleep was a stranger to his eyes, and amid -the incessant cries and moans of the -wounded, who streamed past rearward by -twos, threes, or even scores at a time, he -strove to think of Mary's letter and all it -suggested, to render him oblivious, for a -time, of all his terrible surroundings. -</p> - -<p> -A sergeant of his troop shared with him -the contents of a flask of raki, fiery stuff, -but very acceptable under the circumstances, -for Cecil was as great a favourite -with his Servian troopers as he had been -with the Cameronians; and the act of the -sergeant—whilom a poor copper-miner in -the mountains—recalled to his memory -the faith and generosity of his old -Cameronian servant, Tommy Atkins, on the last -night he was under the same roof with the -dear old regiment. -</p> - -<p> -Cecil knew not how the fight had gone -on the summit of the position, but when -morning dawned, among those who were -still straggling, crawling, and limping down -from it came a man in a scarlet tunic. -Scarlet! The sight of the familiar colour -made Cecil's heart leap. The wearer, who -was severely wounded, proved to be a new -aide-de-camp of Tchernaieff's, a lieutenant -of the 1st Hussars of the Russian Imperial -Guard, whose uniform is like the British. -</p> - -<p> -He informed Cecil that a portion of the -position, named the Crevet Plateau, which -Dochtouroff had retaken from the Turks, -had afterwards fallen again into the hands -of the enemy; but he had sworn to retake -it or die there, and after a terrible conflict, -in which men perished by companies -around him, he had failed to do so, though -his troops had got into that state of rage -or frenzy which the French term <i>acharnement</i>. -</p> - -<p> -With dawn the work of death began -again, and Cecil's troop, with some other -cavalry, began, by a circuitous route, to -ascend the position. Ere long shot began -to fall and shells to burst among them, -scattering wounds, suffering, and death; -but so much were the whole heights -involved in smoke that he could see little of -what was going on, and knew less of the -great game that was being played, though -the hill on which he was ordered to halt -commanded a view of the valleys on both -sides. -</p> - -<p> -A regiment of Russian infantry, far -away on the right, held with resolute -bravery a post assigned it by Dochtouroff, -and the Turkish masses with their scarlet -fezzes and green standards, and their -incessant shout of 'Allah!' seemed to hurl -their fury against it again and again in -vain. On the left the smoke from three -villages, set on fire by them, rolled along -the valley and veiled everything. In one -part of the field a Russian regiment, which -had expended the last of its cartridges, -deliberately 'stood at ease' under the -Turkish fire, perishing where it was -posted, rather than lose honour by falling -back! -</p> - -<p> -Thick lay the dead and thicker the -wounded on every hand, and the medley -of sounds that went up from the Crevet -Plateau and the eminences around it was -appalling; and the evening of the second -day was drawing on. -</p> - -<p> -Suddenly General Dochtouroff, pale and -excited, but with flashing eyes, dashed up -to where Cecil was at the head of his -squadron, and sharply reining in his horse -on the curb, said: -</p> - -<p> -'A brigade of guns is getting into -position to attack the flank of yonder -Turkish column on the left. At the -hazard of your life you will support the -guns!' -</p> - -<p> -Dochtouroff then galloped away, and, as -it proved eventually, Cecil never saw him -again. -</p> - -<p> -'Here come the artillery!' cried a voice, -as the guns came thundering to the front—all -Russian, painted green, guns and -carriages alike. Along the slope of the -Djunis heights the brigade came in column -at full speed, withdrawn from some other -position to act with effect at the point -indicated. Crushing many a dead body, -and splashing through pools of blood, they -went in wild career, the drivers using -whip and spur with a will; the fence of a -flax-field was swept away like a gossamer -web, as the guns rushed to the front—six -horses to each gun and limber, three riders -to each gun. -</p> - -<p> -Over vineyard walls, fallen trees, through -laurel bushes, every horse straining at the -gallop, every driver lashing his team and -goring with the spurs, while yelling, -'Dobro! dobro! hurrah! hurrah!' they made -a wonderfully impressive sight. -</p> - -<p> -Sometimes the guns bounded up eighteen -inches or more, as the iron-bound -wheels went over some rock or obstruction, -but no man lost his seat, and no horse -failed in its pace—eight guns, eight -tumbrils, eighty horses, and a hundred men, -all rushing on for life and death to obey -Dochtouroff, and get into position, the -cavalry galloping in their rear, and from a -column of march right in front, as they -wheeled up into line, they formed to the -left. -</p> - -<p> -The guns were slewed round with their -muzzles to the enemy's line, the limbers -were cast off, drawn rearward, and in -hoarse Russian the word was given to fire. -'Boom, boom, boom!' rang along the -front, shrouding all in smoke, and making -terrible havoc in the ranks of the Turkish -brigade; but still went up the cry of -'Allah, Allah, hu!' the concluding word -of the Muezzin's call to prayer. -</p> - -<p> -The guns were not charged with shot, -but short-fuse shell, and the roar of each -explosion veiled for a moment all the -other sounds of battle. The explosions -were awful, and fast fell the fezzes to -earth, the corpses so mangled as to be -scarcely recognised as human; yet the -brave Turks, incited by their officers, full -of military and religious ardour, seeing, -perhaps, the glories of Paradise opening -before them and the dark-eyed girls waving -their scarfs of green, closed nobly in, -and were making a forward movement as -if to charge the guns, still shouting, 'Allah, -Allah, hu!' And now came the time for -Cecil to go to work, to get clear of the -brigade of cannon, and form in front to -charge, while the latter were reloaded; -and even after all he had undergone there -now boiled up in his heart the 'rapture of -the strife,' as Attila is said to have termed -the fierce excitement of battle. -</p> - -<p> -'By half troops to the right turn—left -wheel—forward—trot!' were his orders. -</p> - -<p> -'By half troops left wheel—form -squadron!' he cried, raising himself in his -stirrups and brandishing his sword; -'forward—<i>gallop</i>—CHARGE!' -</p> - -<p> -By this time, the Turkish infantry were -confusedly endeavouring to form square -over the piles of dead and dying who had -fallen before the cannon. -</p> - -<p> -Ere the final word had left his lips, -Cecil had seen that his squadron had -advanced at a brisk trot to within fifty -yards of the enemy's front—that there -were no closing and crowding of his files to -impede the free action of man and horse, -and that the former kept the latter well -in hand, pressing forward by leg and spur -when necessary; and in splendid order, ere -the square was formed, with the force of a -locomotive, the troopers were sword in -hand among them, hewing them down on -right and left, the hurrahs of the Servians -mingling with the yells of the Turks. -</p> - -<p> -'Fours about!' sounded the shrill -trumpet, and away wheeling off to the -right and left, while the Turks were still -struggling to form square, he left the guns -uncovered, and once more the plunging -fire—grape and canister this time—went -with serpent-like hiss through the swaying -mass—tearing off legs, arms, and heads, -laying the dead and the dying in swathes -above each other. -</p> - -<p> -As he again formed his squadron, -breathless now, in rear of the guns, Cecil -could see through the whirling and eddying -smoke that it was no longer a line, but -a mob of men who were in front—a mob -whose shrieks, screams, and shouts rent -the evening air, while the muskets and -bayonets seemed to sway helplessly to and fro. -</p> - -<p> -Another round of these terrible guns from -right to left, given with such force and -rapidity that the hot guns almost leaped -from the ground with the concussion, and -the Turks in that quarter gave way en -masse, just as the fiery sun went down -beyond the dark mountain ranges. -</p> - -<p> -Again Cecil led on his troopers, who -had been straining like greyhounds in the -leash—on over the ground an acre and more -of which was covered by men mutilated in -every way—corpses struck by four, five, six -bullets—yea, in some instances by a whole -charge of canister—and where every blade -of grass was dyed red—on to the charge -once more, and, as there was no time to -take prisoners, a terrible havoc was -made—a havoc at which his heart, even in the -thrill of what he thought was victory, -began to sicken; but he had received his -orders to support the guns, and nobly had -he done so. -</p> - -<p> -At that point the strife was nearly over, -when a cry of agony escaped the lips of -Cecil, as a bullet—the last shot of some -wounded man—pierced his chest like a -red-hot sword-blade, and he fell forward -on the neck of his horse, clutching wildly -at the reins the while; at the same -moment another Turk who lay wounded—an -officer apparently—by one slash of his -sharp Damascus sabre, all but disembowelled -the animal, which uttered a snorting -cry, and wheeling round, quitted the -field at a mad and infuriated gallop, with -his helpless rider clinging to the pommel of -the saddle. No one could stop or intercept -its headlong career, and in less than a -minute the luckless commander vanished -from the eyes of his squadron! -</p> - -<p> -Was Palenka's prediction about to come true after all? -</p> - -<p> -Cecil had thought the field was won, -yet it was not entirely so. Had the -winning thereof depended on the fiery valour -of one man, Dochtouroff had been victor. -At the head of two hundred Russians he -charged with the bayonet right into the -centre of the Turkish main attack, with -such fury that ere the rifles crossed the -enemy wheeled about and fled, and he saved -the principal position—that of Djunis; -'but Krupp guns, Snider rifles, and better -trained troops, in far superior numbers, had -done their work, and Servia was beaten!' -</p> - -<p> -During the three days' fighting, the latter -lost not less than nine thousand soldiers, -in killed, wounded, and missing; and of -three thousand Russians who were in the -field, only seven hundred remained -untouched at sunset on the third day. -</p> - -<p> -The losses of the Turks were never -precisely known, but they must have been -terrible, as they were the attacking force, -and had assailed well-chosen positions that -were deemed impregnable. -</p> - -<p> -In Russia and abroad, bluff old Tchernaieff -was blamed for recklessness in his -tactics, and doubtless he made mistakes -which ended in failures. 'And then,' says -Captain Salusbury, in his work on those -wars, 'it must not be forgotten that he -always expected reinforcements which never -came. And again it is to be noted that he -had to operate with eighty thousand of -not the very best troops in a country that -required, to command success, two hundred -thousand well-trained and thoroughly -disciplined soldiers. There is no doubt that -the men I saw under fire were a far -inferior lot to those who fought in the early -part of the war.' -</p> - -<p> -When the battle—the last of the strife—was -fairly over, a requiem for the dead -was solemnly held, according to the Russian -ritual, in a tent upon the field, where -numbers of ladies, the wives—and in too -many sorrowful instances the widows—of -Russian officers were gliding about like -angels of mercy, ministering to the wants of -the wounded. While leaving Dochtouroff -to hold the position, Tchernaieff withdrew -to the camp at Deligrad. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -Meanwhile where was Cecil Falconer, -or Montgomerie as he had been learning -to call himself now? -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap19"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER XIX. -</h3> - -<h3> -WOUNDED. -</h3> - -<p> -Away rearward from the field, -out of all range of musketry -and cannon, Cecil's maddened -horse—maddened by the agony of a -mighty wound—swept at a furious rate, -while he—blinded with equal agony and -unable to guide or control it—clung to his -holsters or the pommel of the saddle, as it -bore him on he knew not whither; but it -rushed in its wild career down a wooded -valley, actually treading on its own entrails -by the way, till it fell heavily with its -rider in the depth of a coppice, and there -both lay, to all appearance, dying, unseen -by mortal eyes. -</p> - -<p> -Down sank the sun beyond those -mountains which are spurs of the Balkans, -a globe of fiery flame in an angry and -cloudy sky; the day was done, and with it -many a human life! -</p> - -<p> -Cecil fainted soon after being thrown -from his horse, but ere he did so there -came over him a strange dreamy wonder of -how the battle was progressing, or rather -how the tide of war was going, for in the -distance he could still hear the cannon on -the heights of Djunis. -</p> - -<p> -Anon the din of the battle passed away, -and on his partially recovering consciousness -the stillness of death surrounded the -place where Cecil lay helpless beside his -dead horse—a stillness broken only by the -voice of the vila, or when the damp dewy -wings of the night-birds brushed his cheek -when whirring past him. -</p> - -<p> -The snow-clad summits of the lofty hills -that overlook the valley of the Morava -on one side, and that of the Timok on the -other, shone pale and white in the light of -the uprisen moon. -</p> - -<p> -At times, not far from him, he could -hear the snort of a wild boar or the cry of -a wolf, scared by the recent din of battle -perhaps; and now he became conscious of -the rush of a mountain runnel that ran -near him, but which, sorely athirst though -he was, loss of blood had rendered him too -feeble to reach. -</p> - -<p> -Close by him, with holsters, housing and -gilded martingale, lay the dead body of -his caparisoned horse, the blood of which -was freely mingled with his own. -</p> - -<p> -The hours of the night passed slowly on. -The moon waned; but the stars grew -brighter. Tender thoughts of Mary and -all their mutual past, and of the future -which now too probably would never be, -came to him at times; and in imagination -he more than once thought that her voice—but -curiously mingled with that of -Margarita—came to his almost death-drowsy ear. -</p> - -<p> -Cold and clammy fell the dew of night -on his white and upturned face; his -breathing was long, deep, and laboured, for -the ball that so nearly finished him had -deeply pierced his breast. He lay -well-nigh lifeless. Would he ever be found—on -the farthest skirts of the field as he -was—till too late; till death had come first -and claimed his own, ere the birds of the -air, the wolves and wild dogs made a -banquet of him? -</p> - -<p> -The moaning of the night-wind in the -giant pines was heard at times; but it -brought no sound, save the snarling voices -of the beasts of prey, busy perhaps -elsewhere. The flow from his wound had -stopped; he must have perished otherwise; -a species of bloody paste had sealed up the -wound for a time; but Cecil's mind had -become a chaos now, and he could remember -nothing but the agony in his chest and -the intensity of his thirst—an intensity to -which the murmur of the cool runnel close -by added tantalisation. -</p> - -<p> -Would a cooling draught ever moisten -his lips again? Even the heavily falling -dew had failed to do so. -</p> - -<p> -At last he became alive to all the dire -realities of the situation—that he was -lying in a lonely and untrodden spot, done -nigh unto death; far from aid or succour, -unable even to drive away the insects that, -when morning came, would be battening in -his blood, and when his sole watcher would -be the greedy and expectant carrion crow. -It would be so. He would die in solitude, -and never find a grave until even that -might be found when too late! -</p> - -<p> -Around him, at times, the solitude was awful. -</p> - -<p> -He must have slept or been senseless, -for after a certain space he found the sun -shining above the tree-tops, and some of -the ravenous kites, that were croaking and -wheeling above him in circles, had already -begun to settle on the body of his horse, -and dig their sharp beaks into it—something -of life and volition in his face alone -preventing them from assailing him, though -they eyed him greedily, viciously, and -askance from time to time. -</p> - -<p> -A cry of great horror escaped him. -Then his wound burst forth afresh, and he -became completely senseless and oblivious -of all around him. -</p> - -<p> -After all—after all he had undergone, -was he at last to find an unknown -grave under the eternal shadow of this vast -Servian forest! -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -As the third day of the battle was -drawing to a close, an enterprising Briton, -well mounted and armed with holster-pistols -at his saddle, was galloping with -headlong speed along the road that led -from the north towards the camp at -Deligrad; but evening fell ere he reached -the scene of operations, and only in time -to see the last red flashes of the loud -artillery pale out in the darkness on the -lofty heights of Djunis. -</p> - -<p> -The heavy odour of gunpowder pervaded -all the air, and every yard of the way now -was encumbered by wounded men. -</p> - -<p> -'I thought to have seen some of the -sport,' muttered the horseman, who was -a well-built soldier-like fellow, with a -heavy moustache, and though clad in a -coarse and warm tweed suit, wore a handsome -Indian helmet secured by a gilt chain -under his firm and resolute-looking chin; -'and now I have only arrived in time to -be in at the death—the death of thousands, -no doubt!' he added with a sigh; 'I -wonder which way the day has gone, and -who has won—Slav or Turk—not that it -matters very much to me. A three-days' -battle! Pray God that <i>he</i> may have -escaped in them!' -</p> - -<p> -In the moonlight he reached the entrance -to the camp at Deligrad; but there, and -over all the ground that lay between it -and the two wayside hospitals above which -the white flags with red crosses were -always flying, there were crowds of -wounded and dying men, whose moans, -cries, and supplications loaded the air, and -made the heart of the stranger sicken. -</p> - -<p> -At the entrance to the camp the word -<i>Stoe!</i> (halt!) was shouted in his ear, and he -was stopped by the guard which was under -arms, and allowing only ambulance waggons -and men in uniform to pass—and the -stranger had neither the parole nor counter-sign. -</p> - -<p> -'Are you in the service of Prince -Milano?' asked the officer commanding, in -French. -</p> - -<p> -'No.' -</p> - -<p> -'You are a traveller, then?' -</p> - -<p> -'Yes—monsieur—every man travels, -nowadays,' replied the other, tossing -away his cigar. He then inquired -anxiously for the head-quarters or -where-abouts of General Tchernaieff and his -staff; but no one could say whether the -gallant old Muscovite had, or had not yet -left the heights of Djunis. -</p> - -<p> -'Have you come from Belgrade?' asked -the Servian officer, raising his voice, for the -number and cries of the wounded were -increasing every moment. -</p> - -<p> -'Yes—monsieur—on the spur.' -</p> - -<p> -'Then, perhaps you have despatches -from the King.' -</p> - -<p> -'What king?' -</p> - -<p> -'The devil! here is a fellow who never -heard of the King of Servia—Milano -Obrenovitch!' -</p> - -<p> -'A spy!' said several voices, in Servian -and German. -</p> - -<p> -'Spy, be hanged!' exclaimed the stranger. -</p> - -<p> -'We have taken one already, and -hanged he shall be on the morrow—-the -rascal Guebhard!' said the Servian captain, -exultingly. -</p> - -<p> -'I know nothing about all this—I have -my passports, which show that I am an -officer in her Britannic Majesty's service.' -</p> - -<p> -'Bravo! can I serve you?' asked a -wounded officer, who was limping past, -supported by a soldier. -</p> - -<p> -'Thank God, here is a fellow who speaks -English!' exclaimed the stranger to Stanley, -for the wounded man was the latter, come -down from the heights with a ball in his leg. -</p> - -<p> -'And you wish to see the general?' -</p> - -<p> -'I wish rather to see one who is, or was, -on his staff—Cecil Falconer, a brother -officer of mine. Allow me to introduce -myself—Captain Fotheringhame, of the 26th -Foot!' -</p> - -<p> -For he it was—brave, honest, and -friendly Leslie Fotheringhame, who had -obtained leave, and come all the way to -Servia in search of his absent comrade. -</p> - -<p> -'Ah—the old Cameronians!' said the -other, as they shook hands. 'I am Captain -Stanley, late Foot Guards, and now, for my -sins, Major of the 5th Servians. I know -Falconer well. He was with the cavalry -that went forward to support a brigade of -guns. Since noon, I have seen and heard -nothing of him—sorry to say so. I am -enduring agony with my wound. We have -had a terrible day of it. I came here in -search of a new sensation; and, by Jove, I -have got it—this ball in my leg! The -carnage has been great—and I doubt if -poor Falconer has escaped—all the more -that—that——' -</p> - -<p> -Stanley paused, and hesitated. -</p> - -<p> -'What?' -</p> - -<p> -'His death was curiously predicted.' -</p> - -<p> -'Predicted!' repeated Fotheringhame -in a tone of incredulous surprise; 'by -whom?' -</p> - -<p> -'A brother aide-de-camp—an officer of rank.' -</p> - -<p> -'The deuce—do you, an Englishman, -think such things possible?' -</p> - -<p> -'When you have been a few months in -Servia you will think any devilry possible,' -replied Stanley, with a grimace as his -wound stung him; 'I wish you every -success in your inquiries for Falconer, and -I shall be glad to hear of them from -yourself at my hut in the lines. Make your -inquiries where the cavalry charged on -the right front of the position, and—till -we meet again—good-bye.' -</p> - -<p> -And with his head reclining on the -shoulder of the Servian soldier who -supported him, Stanley, who was evidently in -great pain, limped away, while Fotheringhame, -knowing not exactly what to think -of all this—for, though he might have -scouted any predictions at another time, he -could not fail to be impressed with doubt -and dread, from the terrible sights and -sounds on every hand—took his way -towards the part of the field indicated by -Stanley, walking his horse onward, and -upward, from the camp at haphazard in -the darkness of a now moonless night. -</p> - -<p> -We need neither refer to fully, nor -attempt to describe, the endless scenes of -horror that met the eye of Leslie -Fotheringhame, as he stumbled on vaguely over -the starlit field of battle—the arena of the -three-days' conflict round the fatal heights -of Djunis—scenes which redoubled in their -harrowing intensity as the cold grey dawn -stole in over the faces of the dead and the -dying. -</p> - -<p> -By industriously prosecuting his inquiries -among the wounded and the men of the -ambulance corps who were conveying them, -he discovered the exact ground where the -brigade of guns had gone into action, and -Cecil's squadron had charged. The brown -uniforms of 'Tchernaieff's Own' were lying -there thick, but thicker lay the awful -heaps of the Osmanlies, whom the -fuse-shells, grape, and canister had mowed -down as a scythe mows the grass. -</p> - -<p> -From a sergeant of Cecil's regiment—a -sergeant who spoke German, and was the -same good fellow who had shared with him -the flask of raki on the night before the -battle—he learned how his friend had been -wounded, as well as his horse, and how the -latter had borne him out of the field, and -been lost to sight in the ravine that opened -away deep down on the rear of the right -flank. -</p> - -<p> -The prediction spoken of by Stanley -seemed terribly near verification now, as -Fotheringhame searched all the woody -ravine, with his heart heavy as lead, for he -remembered the farewell messages of Mary -Montgomerie, and how, when he left her, -the kisses of intense gratitude she bestowed -on his cheeks were scarcely less tender -than those of his own Annabelle. -</p> - -<p> -He searched all the valley, but beneath -the deep shadow of the pines, and amid all -the wild undergrowth of years, he could -see no sign of man or horse—only some -croaking kites wheeling lazily in circles—and -he turned away, thinking that it -was among the blood-splashed wards of -the hospitals and ambulance tents, or by -the pits where the dead were to be interred, -his sorrowful search could only be prosecuted now. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap20"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER XX. -<br /><br /> -SAVED! -</h3> - -<p> -We have said that when the kites -began to assail his dead horse -close by him, a cry of great -horror escaped the lips of Cecil. Feeble -though it was, it reached the ears of Leslie -Fotheringhame, just as the latter was in -the act of turning, sadly, to leave the -wooded hollow. -</p> - -<p> -Moving his horse round a clump of wild -laurel bushes, he saw a caparisoned charger -lying dead, and near it a man in uniform, -to all appearance dead also—he lay so -motionless and still. -</p> - -<p> -Fotheringhame drew near. In the -strange brown Servian uniform, with his -face pale as death could have made it, and -obscured by blood and mud, Leslie Fotheringhame -had some difficulty in recognising -the young friend he had come so far to -find—in knowing again the once happy -and merry face that, in times past, had -been so often opposite his own at the -jovial mess-table; but when he did so, a -half-smothered ejaculation escaped him, -and a great joy, mingled with greater pity, -gushed up in his breast, as he leaped from -his horse and knelt beside him. -</p> - -<p> -Cecil's eyes were sightless now, and, -though half-closed, fixed glassily on -vacancy. -</p> - -<p> -'Cecil—Cecil Falconer!' exclaimed -Fotheringhame, as he took in his the -cold and passive hand; but the sufferer -heard him not. 'Life yet, thank God!' -he added, as he felt Cecil's pulse, and then -his heart, but withdrew his fingers covered -with blood. -</p> - -<p> -Folding the broad leaf of an acanthus -into the form of a cup, he brought therein -some cool water from the adjacent runnel, -and Cecil drank thirstily again, and again; -and then his head sank back, with the -eyes still unclosed, yet sightless—seeing -nothing and recognising nothing. -</p> - -<p> -Fotheringhame took a flask of brandy -from one of his holsters, and poured some, -with water, between the lips of Cecil, -whose head he pillowed on his arm. -</p> - -<p> -Partially restored by this, after a time -the sufferer attempted to speak; but his -utterances were unintelligible, and his -head sank lower: his eyes closed now, and -his thoughts were wandering—wandering -away to Mary, and to the old regiment in -feverish dreams—dreams, perhaps, -suggested by the voice of Fotheringhame. -</p> - -<p> -The latter found that the wound in the -chest was deep, for there the ball had -lodged, and not a moment was to be lost -in having it attended to. Galloping up to -the plateau, he soon procured some of the -ambulance corps; a stretcher was improvised -by a blanket and a couple of muskets, and -Cecil was speedily placed in one of the -waggons for conveyance to the camp at -Deligrad; but so great was his agony, -that the vehicle had to be stopped from -time to time, and the contents of -Fotheringhame's flask, by giving him artificial -strength, alone prevented him from fainting. -</p> - -<p> -Yet strange visions haunted him. Out -of the gathering mists of death, as he -deemed them, he thought he saw the face -and heard the voice of his old friend and -comrade; and with them the voice of -Margarita, singing the sweet soft song of -'The Wishes.' -</p> - -<p> -Once he seemed to see distinctly the -face of Fotheringhame, and his eyes dilated -with something of wonder and alarm in -them. Then he closed them, muttering, -'Another dream,' believing it was an unreality. -</p> - -<p> -And now, as the ambulance waggon -reached the road that led from the camp -to Deligrad, in the open ground Fotheringhame -saw some thousand troops, horse, -foot, and artillery, massed in columns, -forming three sides of a hollow square, and -his soldier-eye examined critically the -brown ranks of the Servians, and then those -in Russian green, as the bayonets were -fixed, and flashed in the morning sun as -the arms were shouldered. -</p> - -<p> -The fourth or open side of the square -was occupied by preparations for an execution, -for there stood a man tied to a post, -and before him a firing-party, composed of -twelve Bulgarian volunteers. Deadly pale -looked the culprit, who was stripped to his -shirt and baggy red breeches—Mattei -Guebhard, for it was he—taken prisoner -in the late action, by Stanley's -regiment—baffled, checkmated, standing there in -dishonour, the centre of thousands of stern -and unpitying eyes. -</p> - -<p> -To this end had his life come! -</p> - -<p> -Discipline alone kept the troops silent; -but the crowds of Servian peasantry and -the camp-followers hooted and yelled at -him, loading the air with opprobrious cries. -No braggart was he then. -</p> - -<p> -He made the sign of the cross repeatedly -in the Greek manner, mechanically, or in a -spirit of latent superstition, for religion he -had none. -</p> - -<p> -Fotheringhame heard only that he was -a deserter and spy, yet, checking his -horse, he looked on the scene with breathless -interest, little knowing how prominent -a part the culprit had recently played in -the life of his friend Cecil. -</p> - -<p> -In attendance upon him was the old -village pope of Palenka in his bell-shaped -black felt hat with long tabs floating -behind, and a venerable beard spread over -the breast of his glittering vestments. -Guebhard smoked a cigar, and for a time -preserved a bearing of indifference, till the -priest withdrew and the words of command -were given to the Bulgarians, who -cocked their rifles, and his eyes were -bound. Then, unable to stand erect from -emotion or craven fear, his knees gave way -under him and his head fell forward, the -lashings which bound him to the post alone -supporting him partially. -</p> - -<p> -The death-volley rang sharply in the -morning air; soon all was over, and the -troops were defiling past where the -shattered corpse hung at the post, their -colours flying and drums beating merrily, -and from thence into their lines. -</p> - -<p> -By this time Fotheringhame had conveyed -Cecil to the hospital, and with difficulty -secured the attendance of a surgeon, -for all the medical men had their hands full. -</p> - -<p> -The sights and sounds in the wards -were more appalling than anything he had -seen on the field; and the surgeons, with -their coats off, shirt-sleeves rolled up, and -red to the elbows in blood, looked like -veritable butchers. -</p> - -<p> -'Horrible work this, doctor,' said he to -a fat, fussy little German; 'cutting off legs -and arms with knife and saw, quietly and -in cold blood.' -</p> - -<p> -'<i>Ach Himmel!</i> you think it is better -done with a sabre, while yelling like a devil -broke loose!' -</p> - -<p> -'In a charge—yes; but please look to -my friend.' -</p> - -<p> -Cecil was now stretched on a pallet, his -tunic unbuttoned, and with his breast a -mass of blood, a piteous sight he looked. -A second doctor now came, and while they -conferred in German, Fotheringhame felt -his heart stand still. -</p> - -<p> -'<i>Mein Herr</i>,' whispered one, looking up, -'there will be a crisis soon.' -</p> - -<p> -'When?' -</p> - -<p> -'When we have the bullet out.' -</p> - -<p> -'I trust you have hope?' -</p> - -<p> -'There is always hope while there is -life,' replied the doctor, turning aside while -he carefully wiped a probe; 'but he has -lost so much blood, and is so low, that if he -rallies it will be little short of a miracle.' -</p> - -<p> -The other doctor deemed the case a -hopeless one, and a cry nearly escaped -Fotheringhame when he saw Cecil's form -convulsed by a spasm, as the bullet was -extracted, and a swoon came over him. -</p> - -<p> -'If he should die in my hands—poor -Cecil!' thought the kind-hearted fellow, in -great misery of mind; 'or if I am only -taking him home to die! That prediction -about a violent death, what did it mean? -Who the devil made it? Looks too -deuced likely to happen!' -</p> - -<p> -And so, while the soft and tender hands -of the Sisters of Charity did all those little -offices about Cecil that no wife, mother, or -sister in blood could have done more ably -or kindly, Fotheringhame smoked a cigar -close by, full of thought and anxiety, while -a long and deep sleep fell upon the patient, -a sleep that was worth a hundred nostrums. -</p> - -<p> -'Poor fellow! he is down in his luck, -certainly,' thought Fotheringhame; ''gad, -I shall rejoice to hear when the doctors -think him safe round the corner, and we -may start for home.' -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -When sense came completely back to -Cecil, he knew not where he was, nor for -some hours thereafter did he exactly -comprehend all that had lately happened to -him and passed around him; he had lost -so much blood, and been thereby so giddy, -weak, drowsy, and insensible. -</p> - -<p> -His first recollections were of the -battle—of supporting the field-battery, and the -charges he had led ere he fell; then the -night in the woody hollow—his thirst and -the kites hovering over him! -</p> - -<p> -Now he was in a handsome, lofty, and -airy room, and on a pretty French couch; -a soft flower-scented breeze came through -an open window, the hangings of which -were partly drawn; and he had also a -sense of a woman flitting noiselessly about -him, and by her plain black dress and the -white band with the red cross on the left -arm, her crimped cap and spotless white -apron, he recognised in her one of the -German nurses or Sisters of Charity, who, -the moment she caught his eye and saw -him move, gave him a cooling and refreshing -drink, glad to find symptoms of recovery -in a poor sufferer whose mutterings -alone had given her a clue to his wants, -while she had felt her heart touched by the -utterance of the ever-recurring name of -'Mary'; but her work was nearly done -now, as she had nursed him back to health -and something like strength. -</p> - -<p> -'Where am I?' he asked, with a husky voice. -</p> - -<p> -'In Belgrade, <i>mein Herr</i>.' -</p> - -<p> -'Belgrade! with whom?' -</p> - -<p> -'Friends; kind friends, who will take -care of you now that the horrible war is -all over.' -</p> - -<p> -In a well-hung carriage procured by -Fotheringhame from General Tchernaieff, -Cecil, all unknown to himself, had been -conveyed more than a hundred miles from -the field of battle and from the crowded -and pestilential hospitals thereby, and was -now comfortably quartered in the Krone or -La Couronne Hotel at Belgrade. -</p> - -<p> -Cecil was greatly bewildered by hearing -that he was in the capital of Servia, and -was disposed to ask more questions; but -his nurse told him that he must be patient, -adding, while the tender light of a sweet -and womanly soul lit up her eyes: -</p> - -<p> -'And you must not talk, it is bad for -your chest, Herr Captain; drink more of -this—you cannot! Then I must feed you -with a spoon.' -</p> - -<p> -'You?' -</p> - -<p> -'Yes,' and tenderly the blooming little -fräulein raised his head on her soft arm, -and made him partake of the medicated -food the doctor had ordered. -</p> - -<p> -'Now go to sleep,' said she; 'sleep and -feed—feed and sleep, you naughty boy, and -we soon shall have you in your saddle -once more.' -</p> - -<p> -He dozed off again, but tossed restlessly -on his pillow, as dreams came to him now -more distinctly than before. -</p> - -<p> -'He has youth and strength, and pure -good blood—at least, what is left of it,' -said the doctor, smilingly, to honest -Fotheringhame, who was always hovering -near; 'I believe in these—and such nurses -as you, Sister Gretchen, with plenty of -jellies and beef-tea—<i>ja</i>—<i>ja</i>!' -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -'Bravo, old fellow! you've turned the -corner at last!' was the exclamation of -Fotheringhame to Cecil, some days after -this. -</p> - -<p> -'You think so, dear Leslie,' replied -Cecil, in a weak voice, as he held out a -wasted hand to his friend; 'but I only -fear that I am getting near the end -now—the end of a sad and broken life!' -</p> - -<p> -'Now don't talk this way, or I'll be off -like a bird and leave you!' said Fotheringhame. -</p> - -<p> -'How shall I ever be able to thank you -for coming all the distance you have done, -to look after a poor waif like me? And -but for your so miraculously finding -me, I must have perished—inevitably -perished!' -</p> - -<p> -'There was nothing very miraculous in -it. I traced out the position, and by -chance lighted upon an old sergeant, who -showed me the way your horse had gone; -I followed the track, and, thank God, -heard your cry.' -</p> - -<p> -'Another moment, that odious kite -would have torn out my eyes. Oh, -Heavens! I shall never forget, my dear -Leslie, the horror of that helpless time! -After leading my fellows to the last charge -in support of the guns, I have no -recollection of anything—I must have gone down -like a shot!' -</p> - -<p> -Fotheringhame thought that now the -time was come when he could safely enlighten -Cecil as to the change in his fortune, -and elucidate the mysterious portions of -Mary's half-obliterated letter—that he was -Sir Piers's heir—her cousin, and that the -obnoxious Hew had disappeared from the -family group; and, as may easily be -supposed, great was Cecil's bewilderment -and wonder to hear of a discovery—a -<i>dénouement</i> so singular. -</p> - -<p> -Mary's cousin—the general's heir—heir -to Eaglescraig and his baronetcy! Could -such things be? -</p> - -<p> -He had much to inquire about again and -again, and much to think of deeply now; -and sedulously as his mother, in her -widowhood and in her pride of heart, had kept -all knowledge of his family, and even of -his name, from him, innumerable things -that occurred in their wandering life took a -tangible form now, and the cause of many -an emotion and occurrence, that had puzzled -him in the past time became apparent -enough; and in his grateful heart a great -pity mingled with the yearning memory of his mother. -</p> - -<p> -'And now about yourself and Annabelle -Erroll,' asked Cecil on one occasion. -</p> - -<p> -'Only that we are to be married as soon -as we get back, so make haste and get well, -old fellow!' was the laughing reply of -Fotheringhame. -</p> - -<p> -The war in Servia was virtually over now; -and even had it not been so, Cecil could -have resigned now with honour, as Stanley -did, who was also <i>en route</i> for England, -with several other volunteers. -</p> - -<p> -An armistice had been signed on the -day after the last battle, and the sword -was sheathed in the valley of the Morava, -and Milano IV. remains still prince, but not -king, of Servia and Bosnia. -</p> - -<p> -With the struggle between Russia and -Turkey, on the soil of Servia, Cecil had -done. Of what the former for ages has -looked forward to—the destruction of the -latter—a prophecy of extreme antiquity -foretells the accomplishment—a prophecy -uttered when, or by whom, no man knows; -but eight centuries ago it was read on the -brazen horse of an equestrian statue, then -ages old, when brought to Constantinople -from Antioch. -</p> - -<p> -Though weak from the effects of his -terrible wound, Cecil was recovering fast; -while love and fortune seemed to smile -alike upon him; and to him and Fotheringhame -pleasant indeed was their journey -from Semlin, on the famous Danube, to -Monaco, so famous in the Hungarian -annals for its terrible battle, and from -thence homeward by Vienna and the -Netherlands. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap21"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER XXI. -<br /><br /> -'THE END CROWNS ALL.' -</h3> - -<p> -A yellow autumn moon in a -deep blue sky was pouring a -flood of light over the old -'Queen of the North,' throwing the giant -shadows of her rock-built fortress far -athwart the dark valley below, and of the -ridgy masses of the old city of mediæval -times, towering high above the long white -terraces of the New Town, when Leslie -Fotheringhame thankfully deposited his -charge—the poor waif whom he had found -dying on the bank of the Morava—in one -of the many stately hotels in the vicinity -of Princes Street; we say thankfully, for -though Cecil was recovering, he was still -weak enough to render the prediction of -Count Palenka something unpleasant to remember. -</p> - -<p> -'Now, Cecil, a bumper of Moselle, as a -refresher after our long day's journey, and -then I go to meet those at the railway, -whom, I suppose, you will be right glad to -see!' said Fotheringhame, ere he laughingly -took his departure in a cab. -</p> - -<p> -Cecil drained the wine, and looked -around him, half fearing that he might -be dreaming—and that the spacious room, -the brilliant gaselier, the Turkey carpet, -the tiger-skin before the stately white -marble mantelpiece, the great mirror in -which his own pallid face and eyes -unnaturally bright with long suffering were -reflected, might pass away. How much -had he seen of misery, how much bitterness -of thought, and how much peril had -he undergone since last he had surroundings -such as these! -</p> - -<p> -Could it all be real, that within an hour, -perhaps, Mary's hands would be in his? -</p> - -<p> -He approached one of the tall windows -and looked out upon the night, and on the -well-known scene, with all its familiar -sights and sounds, with the moonlight -streaming over steeple, tower, and -dome—St. Giles's crown—the castle on its rock, -so high in air that its lights seemed to -mingle with the stars, and from it came -the sound of the Cameronian drums, -awaking the echoes of turret and battery—the -drums he would soon be following -again; but the heavy sigh of supreme -gratitude that escaped him reminded him -by a pang of the wound in his chest, and -he reeled giddily. -</p> - -<p> -'I would that they were come,' he muttered. -'I knew not till now that I was -still so weak,' he added, as he looked at -his wasted hands. -</p> - -<p> -The shadow or outline of a man's figure -standing in the broad iron balcony without -the window now fell suddenly on a -window-blind. Cecil drew it up—threw open the -sash abruptly, and found himself face to -face with—Hew—Hew watching him! -</p> - -<p> -He seemed shabby in dress and -dissipated—his hair and moustache -untrimmed; his eyes were bleary, his nose -pimply, and his whole air and aspect were -those of a sorely broken-down tippler. -</p> - -<p> -Cecil, in utter repugnance, recoiled a -pace, and an ugly expression flashed in -the shifty and bilious-like eyes of Hew. -</p> - -<p> -'You, here!' exclaimed Cecil. -</p> - -<p> -'Yes—and I saw your arrival.' -</p> - -<p> -'Are you living in this hotel, Hew?' -</p> - -<p> -'Well—I am, in a manner of way,' he -replied, sulkily: 'I am the billiard-marker!' -</p> - -<p> -'The billiard-marker? Have you fallen -so far?' -</p> - -<p> -'Yes,' he replied, with a fierce grimace. -</p> - -<p> -'You did me an infamous and awful -injury, Hew, as your own confession has -shown; but,' added Cecil, in the generosity -of his nature and under the impulses of -the time, 'I forgive it all now.' -</p> - -<p> -'Thank you—how good!' sneered the other. -</p> - -<p> -'Let us forget our feud—your feud, -rather; but never let me look upon your -face again.' -</p> - -<p> -'Only children and fools, they say, forget.' -</p> - -<p> -'And what have you to remember, pray?' -</p> - -<p> -'All that you have come between, and me.' -</p> - -<p> -'I have only come to my own.' -</p> - -<p> -'Curse you!' exclaimed Hew, hoarsely -and bitterly. -</p> - -<p> -'You are a rancorous fellow—begone -instantly!' replied Cecil, as he closed the -window; and, feeling somewhat exhausted -by the emotions this most unexpected -interview stirred within him, he threw -himself upon a sofa to await the return of -Fotheringhame with those who were to -accompany him, and after a time he forgot -all about Hew and his close vicinity. -</p> - -<p> -Weary and weak, a drowsiness encouraged -by the warmth of the room stole -over him, and, in spite of his efforts to keep -awake, he fell into a drowsy state between -sleeping and waking; but his mind was -full of Mary, who would soon be with him—the -real and imaginary so blended in his -vision, but indistinctly, with that vacuity -which makes the dreamer sigh when his -fancies have become a memory. -</p> - -<p> -Hew was still watching without, and -unnoticed by the crowds that passed and -repassed in the lighted street below. His -heart was full of the bitterest rancour, envy, -and rage. His mind was full of a species -of madness—but a madness with a great -deal of method and cunning in it. -</p> - -<p> -He peeped in from time to time at the -sleeper, with a gleam of intense malice in -his stealthy eyes. Cecil was alone and -unattended, and he lay there apart from all, -and quite unheeded amid the bustle of the -great hotel. -</p> - -<p> -'There is not much life left in the fellow,' -muttered Hew; 'a good shake—a squeeze -of the windpipe, or a few more drops in his -drink than I gave him at the ball, and -Eaglescraig is mine!' -</p> - -<p> -The door of the apartment was shut—if -he would act, it must be done promptly. -He would enter and leave the room by the -French window, and after all was over, -leave the balcony by another apartment, -and repair at once to his usual scene of -work, the billiard-room. -</p> - -<p> -A blindness and giddiness, with a great -terror, came over him for a moment; as -one in a dream, he looked at the crowds -passing below—the stars above; gave a -last glance to assure himself that his avenue -of escape was clear, and then with a heart -beating wildly, fired as it was by envy, -avarice, malice, and all uncharitableness, -he again drew near the window of Cecil's -room and laid his stealthy hand upon it; -but, as he did so, a deep hoarse malediction -escaped in a kind of whisper, and shrinking -back he stole softly away with all speed, -and quitted the balcony—for he had seen -a tableau that baffled his vengeance, and no -doubt saved his soul from the perpetration -of a terrible crime! -</p> - -<p> -A little delay might have changed the -fate of more than one person connected -with our story; a great tragedy might have -taken place almost without discovery, for -had aught occurred to Cecil, it might have -been attributed to his wounded and weak -condition—so near was the prediction of -Palenka being verified, not on the field -of battle or in the carnage of charging -squadrons, but in the quietude and seclusion, -of a fashionable hotel! -</p> - -<p> -From the latter, the amiable Hew took -his departure on the instant, and it is very -unlikely that he will ever cross the path -of Cecil again. -</p> - -<p> -Dreams are usually independent of all -details and coherency; but Cecil, as he -dozed on, seemed to become gradually aware -of the dear and familiar face, of one who -smiled gently upon him, as she bent over him—her -very life—her treasure, and delicious -was the thrill the dream gave him. -</p> - -<p> -The sense of a beloved presence became -more vivid and defined. He heard his -name called, and started to find Mary -stooping over him, her veil thrown back, -and her eyes—soft and loving at all -times—softer now with an infinite yearning, as -she saw how weak he was, and how hard -had been the struggle between youth and -Death! -</p> - -<p> -'Mary, Mary, let me hear your voice -again!' he said, as he folded her in his -arms, yet with that expression of doubt in -his haggard eye, as of one who feared the -joy around him might be a dream and pass away. -</p> - -<p> -'Take her to your heart, my boy—the -same blood runs in your veins!' said old -Sir Piers, all unused to act 'the heavy -parent,' but his keen bright eyes were as -humid and moist as an old man's can well -be, as he took Cecil's face between his -withered hands, and gazed into his features -as if he thought he could never look at -them sufficiently; 'my own boy's eyes!' -he exclaimed, with a kind of sob in his -throat; 'my own boy's brow and lips—my -poor Piers—you are his son—his son!' -</p> - -<p> -A soft kiss was now laid upon his cheek—the -kiss of Annabelle Erroll, and then -the latter retired into the recess of a -window, with her tall, dark lover -Fotheringhame, who had no doubt a vast deal to tell -her, and seemed to do so, very quietly and -very softly, under the shadow of the curtains. -</p> - -<p> -'My darling, my darling!' Cecil could -but whisper again and again. -</p> - -<p> -'Oh, Cecil—Cecil, whom I thought I -was never—never to see again! How have -I ever lived through all this!' she kept -repeating; 'why did you go to Servia?' -</p> - -<p> -'What mattered it where I went -<i>then</i>—at the time, I mean!' -</p> - -<p> -He gave a short sigh, as even her -beloved cheek on his wounded chest made him wince. -</p> - -<p> -'Egad, what a home-coming we'll have!' -said the general; 'Rungeet entering -Lahore will be nothing to it! Old John -Balderstone, and Mrs. Garth, widow of -Garth, of Ours—you remember her, -Cecil? will be mustering the tenants and -everybody—old Tunley too—what a Christmas -we'll have! And there will be a bonfire on -the old tower-head at Eaglescraig, that -will light up the whole Firth of Clyde!' -</p> - -<p> -But the lovers thought only of the -future, which seemed so close and certain -now. -</p> - -<p> -Pillowed on Mary's breast—surrounded -by friends and all the perfect safety of -home and assured position, there was—to -Cecil—a calm and delicious joy in existence -now, after all the fierce whirl, the aching -disappointment, and the wild excitement -of his life recently. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /></p> - -<p class="t3"> -THE END. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /></p> - -<p class="t4"> -BILLING AND SONS, PRINTERS AND ELECROTYPERS, GUILDFORD. -<br /> -<i>J. 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