diff options
| -rw-r--r-- | .gitattributes | 4 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | LICENSE.txt | 11 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | README.md | 2 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/69198-0.txt | 15694 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/69198-0.zip | bin | 306898 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/69198-h.zip | bin | 769074 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/69198-h/69198-h.htm | 17377 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/69198-h/images/cover.jpg | bin | 445513 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/69198-h/images/titlepage.png | bin | 8862 -> 0 bytes |
9 files changed, 17 insertions, 33071 deletions
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..330999f --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #69198 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/69198) diff --git a/old/69198-0.txt b/old/69198-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 19e62cc..0000000 --- a/old/69198-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,15694 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of A bird of passage, by Bithia Mary -Croker - -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: A bird of passage - -Author: Bithia Mary Croker - -Release Date: October 21, 2022 [eBook #69198] - -Language: English - -Produced by: MWS, Brian Wilsden and the Online Distributed Proofreading - Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from - images generously made available by The Internet - Archive/American Libraries.) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A BIRD OF PASSAGE *** - - Transcriber's Note: - Italic text is denoted by _underscores_ and - bold text by =equal signs=. - - - - - A BIRD OF PASSAGE. - - - BY - - B. M. CROKER, - - AUTHOR OF "PROPER PRIDE," "PRETTY MISS NEVILLE," - "SOME ONE ELSE." - - - "Such wind as scatters young men thro' the world - To seek their fortunes further than at home, - Where small experience grows." - - THE TEMPEST. - - - WARD AND DOWNEY, - 12, YORK STREET, COVENT GARDEN, LONDON, W.C. - 1887. - - - - - PRINTED BY - KELLY AND CO., GATE STREET, LINCOLN'S INN FIELDS, W.C.; - AND MIDDLE MILL, KINGSTON-ON-THAMES. - - - - -CONTENTS. - - - CHAP. PAGE - - I.—PORT BLAIR 1 - - II.—EXPECTATION 9 - - III.—FIRST IMPRESSIONS 24 - - IV.—MISS DENIS HAS VISITORS 31 - - V.—WHAT IS SHE LIKE? 37 - - VI.—QUEEN OF THE CANNIBAL ISLANDS 48 - - VII.—MR. QUENTIN'S PIANO 53 - - VIII.—"I WAS HIS DEAREST LIZZIE!" 61 - - IX.—A DAMSEL IN DISTRESS 69 - - X.—MR. LISLE FORGETS HIS DINNER 76 - - XI.—THE FINGER OF FATE 86 - - XII.—THE WRECK 95 - - XIII.—"BLUE BEARD'S CHAMBER" 103 - - XIV.—"MR. LISLE HAS GIVEN ME A RING" 110 - - XV.—"WHY NOT?" 116 - - XVI.—"STOLEN FROM THE SEA!" 123 - - XVII.—THE BALL 132 - - XVIII.—"BUT WHAT WILL PAPA SAY?" 141 - - XIX.—PROOF POSITIVE 154 - - XX.—"A GREAT BATTLE" 160 - - XXI.—THE NICOBARS 168 - - XXII.—THE FIRST GRAVE 175 - - XXIII.—"WAS IT POSSIBLE!" 180 - - XXIV.—"FAREWELL, PORT BLAIR" 191 - - XXV.—THE STEERAGE PASSENGER 198 - - XXVI.—A POOR RELATION 206 - - XXVII.—EVERYTHING IS SETTLED 215 - - XXVIII.—MALVERN HOUSE 227 - - XXIX.—"YOU REMEMBER MISS DENIS?" 239 - - XXX.—FINNIGAN'S MARE 256 - - XXXI.—"CROWMORE CASTLE" 267 - - XXXII.—BARRY'S GUESS 274 - - XXXIII.—"THE FANCY" 284 - - XXXIV.—"THE SLAVE OF BEAUTY" 293 - - XXXV.—"THE APPARITION" 303 - - XXXVI.—"THE APPARATUS" 312 - - XXXVII.—"IN CONFIDENCE" 317 - - XXXVIII.—"SALLY'S SUBSTITUTE" 325 - - XXXIX.—"THE MARKET GIRL" 337 - - XL.—"BARRY'S CHALLENGE" 342 - - XLI.—"THE POACHER'S GHOST" 351 - - - - -A BIRD OF PASSAGE. - - - - -CHAPTER I. - -PORT BLAIR. - - "Droops the heavy-blossom'd bower; hangs the heavy-fruited tree: - Summer isles of Eden lying in dark purple spheres of sea." - - _Locksley Hall._ - - -FEW travellers penetrate to the Andamans, unless it be an enthusiastic -astronomer to witness a rare comet, or an enterprising professor, who -happens to be fired with a desire to study the language and the skulls -of the aborigines. - -These islands are as yet sacred from the foot of the globe-trotter, -Cook's tourists ignore them, and they lie in serene semi-savage -seclusion, in the midst of the Indian Ocean, dimly known to the great -outer world as the chief Indian convict settlement, and the scene -of Lord Mayo's murder in 1872. The inland portions of the great and -lesser Andamans have been but cursorily explored, (those who have made -the attempt, having learnt by tragic experience that the inhabitants -were addicted to cannibalism); but outlying islets, and fringes of the -coast, have been opened up by the Indian Government, and appropriated -for the benefit of thousands of convicts (chiefly lifers), who are -annually poured into Port Blair—from Galle to the Kyber, from Aden to -the borders of China, the cry is still they come! - -Port Blair, the Government headquarters, is situated on Ross, a high -conical islet that lies about a mile south of the Middle Andaman, -and although of limited circumference, it boasts a stone church, -barracks, a Commandant's residence, several gaols, a pier, a bazaar, -a circulating library, and a brass band! Every foot of ground is laid -out to marvellous advantage, and the neat gravelled pathways, thick -tropical hedges, flowering shrubs and foliage plants, give the numerous -brown bungalows which cover the hillsides, the effect of being situated -in a large and well-kept garden. - -The summit of the island commands a wide view: to the north lies the -mainland with its sharply indented shores, and a wide sickle-shaped -estuary, sweeping far away into the interior, where its wooded curves -are lost among the hills; the southern side of Ross looks sheer -out upon the boundless ocean, and receives the full force of many -a terrible tropical hurricane, that has travelled unspent from the -Equator. - -There was not a ripple on that vast blue surface, one certain August -evening, a few years ago—save where it fretted gently in and out, -between the jagged black rocks that surrounded the island; the sea was -like a mirror, and threw back an accurate reflection of boats, and -hills, and wooded shores; distant, seldom-seen islands, now loomed in -the horizon with vague, misty outlines; a delicate, soft, south wind -barely touched the leaves of the big trees, among whose branches the -busy green parrots had been chattering, and the gorgeous peacocks, -screeching and swinging, all through the long, hot, sleepy afternoon. - -Surely the setting sun was making a more lingering and, as it were, -regretful adieu to these beautiful remote islands than to other parts -of the world! No pen could describe, no brush convey, any idea of the -vivid crimson, western clouds, and the flood of blinding golden light, -that bathed the hills, the far-away islets, the tangled mangroves, and -the glassy sea. - -To the cool dispassionate northern eye, which may have first opened on -a leaden sky, snow-capped hills, pine woods, and ploughed lands, there -was a general impression of wildly gaudy, south sea scenery, of savage -silence, and lawless solitude. - -Soon that scarlet ball will have plunged below the horizon, a -short-lived grey twilight have spread her veil over land and sea, the -parrots' noisy pink bills will be tucked under their wings, and the -turbulent peacocks have gone to roost. - -Close to the flagstaff (which was planted on a kind of large, flat -mound, at the highest point of the island), one human figure stood -out in bold relief against the brilliant sunset; an elderly gentleman -with grizzled hair and beard, a careworn expression, and mild, brown -eyes,—eyes that were anxiously riveted on the at present sailless sea. -He carried a small red telescope in his hand, and divided his time -between pacing the short grass plateau, and spasmodically sweeping the -horizon. For what was he looking so impatiently? He was looking for the -smoke of the Calcutta steamer, that brought mails and passengers to -Port Blair once in every six weeks. Think of but one mail in six weeks, -ye sybarites of Pall Mall, revelling in a dozen daily posts, scores -of papers, and all the latest telegrams from China to Peru! Imagine -reading up forty days' arrears of your _Times_ or _Post_; imagine six -_Punches_ simultaneously! Gladly as Colonel Denis usually hailed his -letters, and especially the _Weekly Gazette_, yet it was neither news -nor promotion that he was so restlessly awaiting now—his thoughts -were altogether centred on a passenger, his only daughter, whom he -had not seen for thirteen years, not since she was a little mite in -socks and sashes, and now she was a grown-up, a finished young lady, -coming out from England by this mail to be the mistress of his house! -He was glad that this long anticipated day had dawned at last, and yet -he scarcely dared to analyze his own feelings—he was ashamed to own, -even in his inmost heart, that mingled with all his felicity, there is -a secret dread—a kind of stifled misgiving. This girl who is to share -his home within the next few hours, is in reality, as far as personal -acquaintance goes, as much a stranger to him as if he had never seen -her before, although she is his own little Nell, with whom he used to -romp by the hour in the verandah at Karkipore, thirteen years ago. -Those thirteen years stand between him and that familiar merry face, -dancing gait, and floating yellow hair; they have taken that away, and -what are they going to give him instead? Of course he and his daughter -had corresponded by every mail, but what are nice affectionate letters, -what are presents, yea photographs, when the individuality of the -giver has long been blurred and indistinct; when the memory of a face, -and the sound of a voice, have faded and faded, till nothing tangible -remains but a name! Children of five years old have but short memories, -and in Helen Denis's case, there was no one near her to revive her -dying recollections. - -"I wonder if she will know me among the crowd," her father muttered as -he paced the platform, with the telescope behind his back. - -"I'm sorry now, I never had my photo taken, to prepare her! How strange -I shall feel with a girl in the house, after all these years. I've -quite forgotten woman's ways!" From an expression that came into his -eyes, one might gather that a backward glance at "woman's ways" was -not altogether one of the most agreeable memories of the past. "If -she should be like—" and he paused, shuddered, and looked out over -the sea for some minutes, with a face that had grown suddenly stern. -His thoughts were abruptly recalled to the present, by the sound of -footsteps coming up the gravel pathway behind him. - -"Hullo, colonel!" cried a loud, cheery voice, "why are you doing sentry -here? Oh! of course, I forget; you expect Miss Denis this mail!" - -"Yes. I'm looking out for the steamer," he replied, as he turned -round and accosted a very handsome young man, with aquiline features, -brilliant teeth, and eyes as blue as the surrounding sea. A tall young -man, carefully dressed in a creaseless light suit, who wore a pale silk -tie run through a ring, gloves, and carried a large white umbrella. -He had an adequate appreciation of his own appearance, and with good -reason, for men frequently referred to him as "the best-looking -fellow of their acquaintance," and women—well—women spoiled him, -they had petted him and made much of him, since he was a pretty -little curly-headed cherub, with a discriminating taste in sweets, -and a rooted objection to kissing old and ugly people, down to the -present time, when he (although you would not think it) had passed his -thirty-second birthday! He had been sent to Port Blair in connection -with some new works on the mainland, and was "acting" for another -man, who had gone on furlough. His name was James—variously known -as "Beauty," "Apollo," or "Look and Die"—Quentin, and he was really -less conceited than might have been expected under the circumstances! -Mr. Quentin was not alone; his companion was a shorter, slighter, and -altogether more insignificant person, dark as an Arab, through exposure -to the sun; he wore a broad-leafed, weather-beaten Terai, pulled so far -over his brows that one could only guess at a pair of piercing eyes, a -thin visage, and a black moustache; his clothes were by no means new, -his hands burnt to a rich mahogany, and innocent of gloves, ring, or -umbrella. - -Somehow, with his slouched hat, slender figure, and swarthy skin, -he had rather a foreign air, and was a complete contrast to his -broad-shouldered patron, "Look and Die" Quentin, whom he followed -slowly up the hill, and muttering an indistinct greeting to Colonel -Denis, he walked on a few paces, and stood with his arms folded, -looking down upon the sea, somewhat in the attitude of the well-known -picture of Napoleon at St. Helena! This sunburnt, silent individual was -known by the name of "the Photographer;" he was a mysterious stranger, -who three months previously had dropped into the settlement—but _not_ -into society—as if from the clouds, and during these three months, the -united ingenuity of the community had failed to discover anything more -about him, than what they had learned the very first day he had landed -on Ross; to wit, that his name was Lisle, and that he had come from -Calcutta to take photographs among the islands. Immediately after his -arrival, he had established himself in the Dâk Bungalow, on Aberdeen, -had hired a boat, and in a very short time had made himself completely -at home; his belongings consisted of a small quantity of luggage, a -large camera, some fishing-tackle, and a native servant, who refused to -elucidate any one on the subject of his master, and the public were -very inquisitive about that gentleman,—and who shall say that their -curiosity was not legitimate! - -People never came to Ross, unless they were convicts, settlement -officers, formed part of the garrison, or were functionaries like Mr. -Quentin, who was "acting" for some one else. Mr. Lisle did not come -under any of these heads; he was not an officer, Hindoo or otherwise, -he did not belong to the settlement, nor was he one of the class for -whose special behoof the islands had been colonized. The problem still -remained unsolved, who was Mr. Lisle, what was he doing at Port Blair, -where did he come from, when, and where, was he going, was he rich or -poor, married or single? All these queries still remained unsolved, and -opened up a fine field of speculation. Society, so isolated from the -outer world, so meagrely supplied with legitimate news, were naturally -thrown a good deal upon their own resources for topics of conversation -and discussion. A week after mail-day, most of the papers had been -read and digested, and people had to fall back upon little items of -local intelligence—and such items were wont to be scarce: think, then, -what a godsend for conjecture and discussion Mr. Lisle would, and did -prove! this waif blown to them from beyond the sea, without address or -reference! If he had been a common-looking, uneducated person, it would -have been totally different; but the aggravating thing was, that shabby -as were his clothes, he had the unmistakable bearing and address of a -gentleman,—yet he spent all his days photographing natives, trees, -islands, as if his daily bread solely depended on his industry! He -lived not far from where Mr. Quentin dwelt, in a splendid bungalow, in -solitary state; and the former, constantly meeting the photographer, -had scraped up an acquaintance with him, had dropped in and smoked -friendly cigarettes in the Rest House verandah, had thrown out feelers -in vain—in vain!—had come to the conclusion that Lisle was a very -gentlemanly fellow in his way,—that he was no fool, that he was a most -entertaining companion, and wound up by insisting that he should come -and share his roof! - -To this Lisle objected, in fact he refused the invitation point-blank, -but when he learned that the Rest Bungalow was requisitioned for some -missionaries, and when his would-be host became the more pressing, the -more he was reluctant, he gave in, after considerable hesitation. - -"You see, it's not a purely unselfish idea," said Mr. Quentin; "I'm -awfully lonely at this side—not a soul to speak to, unless I go to -Ross, and I'm often too lazy to stir, and now I shall have you to -argue with, and to keep me company of an evening. Then, as to your -photographs, there's lots of room for them. You can have a whole side -of the house to yourself, and do as you please." - -"I'll come on one condition," replied the other, looking straight -at him; "I'll come, if you will allow me to pay my share of the -butler's account, and all that sort of thing. We are speaking quite -frankly—you require some one to talk to, I want a roof, since you say -the missionaries are coming to the Rest House,—and I doubt if we would -assimilate!" - -Mr. Quentin, who had been lounging in a low cane chair, took his cigar -out of his mouth, blew a cloud of smoke, and hesitated; it was all very -well to have this chap up to keep him company of an evening, but to -chum with him—by Jove! - -The other seemed to read what was passing through his mind, for he -said, with a twinkle in his eye,— - -"I'm not a fellow travelling for a firm of photographers, as no -doubt every one imagines. I'm"—pushing an envelope over to his -companion—"that's my name." - -Mr. Quentin took up the paper carelessly, cast his eye over it, became -rather red, and laughed nervously. From this time forward, Mr. Lisle -and Mr. Quentin chummed together on equal terms,—somewhat to the -scandal of their neighbours, who were amazed that such a fastidious -man as "Look and Die" Quentin should open his house, and his arms, to -this unknown shabby stranger! His manners were studiously courteous -and polite, but he understood how to entrench himself in a fortress -of reserve, that held even Mrs. Creery, the chief lady of Port Blair, -at bay, and this was saying much—driven very hard, two damaging -statements had been, as it were, wrested from him! he liked the -Andamans, because there was no daily post, and no telegrams, and he -had no occupation _now_. Did not admission number one savour of a -dread of suggestive-looking blue envelopes, and clamouring, hungry -creditors—to whom he had effectually given the slip; and admission -number two was worse still! no occupation now, was doubtless the -result of social and financial bankruptcy. Mrs. Creery was disposed to -deal hardly with him—in her opinion, he was an "outlaw." (She rather -prided herself upon having fitted him neatly with a name.) If he had -thrown her one sop of conciliation, or given her the least little hint -about himself and his affairs, she _might_ have tolerated him, but -he remained perversely dumb. Mr. Quentin was dumb too—though it was -shrewdly suspected that he knew more about his inmate than any one—and -indeed he had gone so far as to deny that he was a professional -photographer; when rigidly cross-examined by a certain lady, he only -laughed, and shook his head, and said that "Lisle was a harmless -lunatic—rather mad on the subject of photography and sea-fishing, -but otherwise a pleasant companion;" but beyond this, he declined to -enlighten his questioner. No assistance being forthcoming, society was -obliged to classify the stranger for themselves, and they ticketed him -as a genteel loafer, a penniless ne'er-do-well, who had come down to -Port Blair in hopes (vain) of obtaining some kind of employment, and -had now comfortably established himself as Mr. Quentin's hanger-on and -unpaid companion! - -It must be admitted that the stranger gave considerable colour to this -view; he did not visit and mix with society on Ross, he wore shabby -clothes and shocking hats, and spent most of his time tramping the bush -with a gun on his shoulder or a camera on his back, "looking for all -the world like an Italian organ-grinder or a brigand," according to -that high authority, Mrs. Creery. For three months he had been without -a competitor in the interest of the community, but now his day was -over, his star on the wane: he was about to give place to a very rare -and important new arrival, namely, an unmarried lady, who was currently -reported to be "but eighteen years of age and very pretty!" - - - - -CHAPTER II. - -EXPECTATION. - - "For now sits expectation in the air, - And hides a sword." - - — _Henry V._ - - -ALL this time Colonel Denis had been engaged in animated conversation -with Mr. Quentin. Nature had been doubly generous to the latter -gentleman, for she had not merely endowed him with unusual personal -attractions, but had increased these attractions by the gift of a -charming manner that fascinated every one who came in contact with -him—from the General himself down to the sullen convict boatmen; it -was quite natural to him, even when discussing a trivial subject, with -an individual who rather bored him than otherwise, to throw such an -appearance of interest into his words and looks that one would imagine -all his thoughts were centred in the person before him and the topic -under discussion. - -To men this attitude was flattering, to women irresistible, and what -though his words were writ on sand, his manner had its effect, and was -an even more powerful factor in his great popularity than his stalwart -figure and handsome face. At the present moment he stood leaning on -his furled umbrella, listening with rapt attention to what Colonel -Denis had to say on the subject of whale-boats _versus_ gigs (every -one at Ross kept a boat of their own, like the O'Tooles at the time of -the Flood). The Colonel was enlarging on the capabilities of his new -purchase—bought expressly in honour of his daughter, as he would have -bought a carriage elsewhere—when he was interrupted by Mr. Lisle (who -meanwhile had been keeping watch on the horizon and whistling snatches -of the overture to "Mirella" under his breath), abruptly announcing, -"Here she is!" - -Colonel Denis was so startled that he actually dropped the telescope, -which rolled to his informant's feet, who, picking it up, noticed as he -returned it that Colonel Denis was looking strangely nervous, and that -the hand stretched towards him was shaking visibly. He gazed at him -with considerable surprise, and was about to make some remark, when Mr. -Quentin exclaimed in a tone of genuine alarm,— - -"By George! here is Mrs. Creery. I see the top of her topee coming up -the hill, and I'm going." - -But he reckoned without that good lady, who had already cut off his -retreat. In another moment her round florid face appeared below the -topee, followed by her ample person, clad in a sulphur-colour sateen -costume, garnished with green ribbons; last, but not least, came her -fat yellow-and-white dog, "Nip," an animal that she called "a darling," -"a treasure," "a duck," and "a fox-terrier," but no other person in the -settlement recognized him by any of these titles. Before she was within -twenty yards, she called out in a thin, authoritative treble,— - -"Well, what are you all doing here? what is it, eh? Any news? You -need not be looking for the _Scotia_; she can't possibly be in till -to-morrow, you know—I told you so, Colonel Denis. Oh," in answer to a -silent gesture from Mr. Lisle, "so She _is_ coming in, is she?" in a -tone that gave her listeners to understand that she had no business to -be there, contradicting Mrs. Creery. - -"And so you have been up playing tennis at the General's," to Mr. -Quentin. "I saw your peon going by with your bat and shoes; but what -has brought _you_ over to Ross, Mr. Lisle—I thought you rarely left -the mainland?" fastening on him now for that especial reason. - -"I don't often come over," he replied, parrying the question. - -"You've been shopping in the bazaar," she continued; "you have been -buying collars." - -"Mrs. Creery is unanswerable—she is gifted with 'second sight.'" (All -the same it was not collars, but cartridges, that he had purchased.) - -"Not she!" returned the lady with a laugh, "but she has eyes in her -head, and that's a collar-box in your hand! I can tell most things by -the shape of the parcel. Still as charmed as ever with Aberdeen?" - -Mr. Lisle bowed. - -"I heard that you were going away?" - -"So I am—" he paused, and then added, "some day." - -"What do you do with all your photographs—sell them? Oh, but to be -sure you can't do that here. You must find the chemicals terribly -costly." - -"They are rather expensive." - -"I'll tell you what, I will give you a little commission! How would -you like to come over some morning and take me and Nip, and then the -bungalow, and then a group of our servants?" - -If Mr. Lisle's face was any index of his mind, it said plainly that he -would not relish the prospect at all. - -"I want to send home some photos to my sister, Lady Grubb. Of course I -shall pay you—that's understood." - -During this conversation, Colonel Denis looked miserably uncomfortable, -and Mr. Quentin as if it was with painful difficulty that he restrained -his laughter; the travelling photographer alone was unmoved; he -surveyed his patroness gravely, as if he were taking a mental plate of -her topee with its purple puggaree, her little eager light eyes, her -important nose and ruddy cheeks, and then replied in a most deferential -manner,— - -"Thank you very much for your kind offer, but I am not a professional -photographer." - -Was Mrs. Creery crushed? Not at all, she merely raised her light -eyebrows and said,— - -"Oh, not a professional photographer! Then what _are_ you?" - -"Mrs. Creery's very humble slave," bowing profoundly. - -"Photographs are rather a sore subject with him just now," broke in Mr. -Quentin in his loud, hearty voice. "You have not heard what happened to -him yesterday when he was out shooting?" - -"No; how should I?" she retorted peevishly. - -"Well, I must say he bore it like a stoic. I myself, mild as I am, and -sweet as you know my temper to be, would have killed the fellow." - -"What fellow?" - -"My new chokra. Time hung heavily on his hands, and I suppose he -thought he would be doing something really useful for once in his -life, so he went into the room where Lisle keeps all his precious -plates—photographic plates, not even printed off—plates he has -collected and treasured like so many diamonds—" - -"Well, well, well?" tapping her foot. - -"My dear lady, I'm coming to it if you won't hurry me. My confounded -chokra took them all for so much DIRTY GLASS, and washed every man Jack -of them, and was exceedingly proud of his industry!" - -"And what did you do to him?" demanded Mrs. Creery, turning round and -staring at the victim of ignorance. - -"Nothing—what could I do? he knew no better; but I told my fellow not -to let him come near me for a few days." - -"Colonel Denis," said the lady, now addressing him, "is it true that -you have not seen your daughter for thirteen years?" - -"Yes, quite true, I am sorry to say." - -"Why did you not go home on furlough?" - -"I never could manage it. When I could get home I had no money, and -when money was plentiful, there was no leave." - -"Ah, and you told me she was a pretty girl, I believe; I hope you are -not building on _that_, for pretty children are a delusion; I never yet -saw one of them that did not grow up plain." - -"Excepting _me_, Mrs. Creery," expostulated Mr. Quentin; "if history is -to be believed, I was a most beautiful infant—so beautiful that people -came to see me for miles and miles around, and (insinuatingly) I'm sure -you would not call me plain now?" - -Mrs. Creery (who had a secret partiality for this gentleman) laughed -incredulously, and then replied, "Well, perhaps you are the exception -that proves the rule. Of course," once more addressing Colonel Denis, -"your daughter will bring out all the new fashions, and have no end of -pretty things—that is if you have given her a liberal outfit." - -She here paused for a reply, but no answer being forthcoming went -on, "If you feel at all nervous about meeting her, I'll go on board -with you with pleasure; I should _like_ it, and you are well enough -acquainted with me to know that you have only to say the word!" - -At this suggestion, the eyes of the two bystanders met, and exchanged a -significant glance, and whilst Colonel Denis was stammering forth his -thanks and excuses, they hastily took leave of Mrs. Creery and made -their escape. - -"The steamer is coming in very fast, and I think I'll go home and see -that everything is ready," said the Colonel after a pause. - -"Well, perhaps it would be as well," acceded the lady; "but are you -really certain you would not like me to meet her, or, at any rate, to -be at your bungalow to receive her?" - -Once more her companion politely but firmly declined her good offices, -assuring her earnestly that they were quite unnecessary, and the lady, -visibly disappointed, said as she shouldered her parasol and turned -away, "Perhaps you will have your journey for nothing! I should not be -the least surprised if she did not come by this steamer after all! and -mark my words, that ayah—that Fatima—that you would engage in spite -of my advice, will give you trouble _yet_!" - - * * * * * - -Colonel Denis, nothing daunted, hurried down to his own bungalow, a -large one facing the mainland, entirely surrounded by a deep verandah, -and approached by a pathway hedged with yellow heliotrope. A good many -preparations had been made for the expected young mistress; there were -flowers everywhere in profusion, curious tropical ones, berries, and -orchids, and ferns. - -The lamps were lit in the sitting-rooms, and everything was extremely -neat, and yet there was a want; there was a bare gaunt look about the -drawing-room, although it had been lately furnished and Ram Sawmy, the -butler of twenty years' standing, had disposed the chairs and tables -in the most approved fashion—in his eyes—and put up coloured purdahs -and white curtains, all for "Missy Baba." Nevertheless, the general -effect was grim and comfortless. There were no nick-nacks, books, or -chair-backs: there certainly were a few coarse white antimacassars, -but these were gracefully arranged, according to Sawmy's taste, as -coverings for the smaller tables! Colonel Denis looked about him -discontentedly, moved a chair here, a vase there, then happening to -catch a glimpse of himself in a mirror, he went up to it and anxiously -confronted his own reflection. How wrinkled and grey he looked! he -might be fifteen years older than his real age. After a few seconds -he took up and opened a small album, and critically scanned a faded -photograph of a gentleman in a long frock-coat, with corresponding -whiskers, leaning over a balustrade, his hat and gloves carelessly -disposed at his elbow—a portrait of himself taken many years -previously. - -"There is no use in my thinking that it's the least like me _now_; she -could not know me again—no more than I would know her—" then closing -the book with a snap, and suddenly raising his voice, he called out: -"Here, Sawmy, see that dinner is ready in half an hour and have the -ayah waiting. I'm going for missy." - -Doubtless dinner and the ayah had a long time to wait, for it was -fully an hour before the _Scotia_ dropped anchor off Ross; she was -immediately surrounded by a swarm of boats, including that of Colonel -Denis, who boarded her, and descended among the crowd to the cabin, -with his heart beating unusually fast. - -The cabin lamps were lit, and somewhat dazzled the eyes of those who -entered from the moonlight. There were but few passengers, and the -most noticeable of these was Helen Denis, who sat alone at the end of -a narrow table, with a bag on her lap, the inevitable waterproof over -her arm, and her gaze fixed anxiously on the door leading from the -companion ladder. Colonel Denis would not be disappointed; his daughter -_had_ fulfilled the promise of her youth, and was a very pretty girl. -She was slight and fair, with regular features and quantities of light -brown hair—hair that twenty years ago was called fair, before golden -and canary-coloured locks came to put it out of fashion. Her eyes -were grey—or blue—colour rather uncertain; but one thing was beyond -all dispute, they were beautiful eyes! As for her complexion, it was -extremely pale at present, and her very lips were white; but this was -due to her agitation, to her awe and wonder and fear, to her anxiety -to know _which_ of the many strange faces that came crowding into the -cabin was the one that would welcome her, and be familiar to her, and -dear to her as long as she lived? She sat quite still, with throbbing -heart, surveying each new-comer with anxious expectation. As Colonel -Denis entered she half rose, and looked at him appealingly. - -"You are Helen?" he said in answer to her glance. - -"Oh, father," she exclaimed tremulously, now putting down the bag and -stretching out her hands, "how glad I am that you are _you_!—it sounds -nonsense, I know, but I was half afraid that I had forgotten your face. -You know," apologetically, "I was such a very little thing, and that -man over there, with the hooked nose, stared at me so hard, that I -thought for a moment—I was half afraid—" and she paused and laughed a -little hysterically, and looked at her father with eyes full of tears, -and he rather shyly stooped down and touched her lips with his grizzly -moustache—and the ice was broken. - -Helen seemed to immediately recover her spirits, her colour, and -her tongue—but no, she had never lost the use of that! She was a -different-looking girl to what she had been ten minutes previously—her -lips broke into smiles, her eyes danced; she was scarcely the same -individual as the white-faced, frightened young lady whom we had first -seen sitting aloof at the end of the saloon table. - -"I remember you now quite well," said Miss Denis. "I knew your voice; -and oh, I am so glad to come home again!" - -This was delightful. Colonel Denis, a man of but few words at any -time, was silent from sheer necessity now. He felt that he could not -command his utterance as was befitting to his sex. If this meeting was -rapturous to Helen, what was it not to him? Here was his own little -girl grown into a big girl—this was all the difference. - -In a short time Miss Denis and her luggage (Mrs. Creery would be -pleased to know that there was a good deal of the latter) were being -rowed to Ross by eight stout-armed boatmen, over a sea that reflected -the bright full moon. It was almost as light as day, as Helen and her -father walked along the pier and up the hill homewards. As they passed -a bungalow on their left-hand, the figure of a girl (who had long been -lying in wait in the shadow of the verandah) leant out as they went by -and watched them stealthily; then, pushing open a door and hurrying -into a lamp-lit room, she said to her mother, an enormously stout, -helpless-looking woman,— - -"She has come! She has a figure like a may-pole. I could not see her -face plainly, but I don't believe she is anything to look at." - -However, those who had already obtained a glimpse of Miss Denis in the -saloon of the _Scotia_ were of a very different opinion, and, according -to them, the newly-arrived "spin" was an uncommonly pretty girl, likely -to raise the average of ladies' looks in the settlement by about fifty -per cent.! - -Almost at the moment that Colonel Denis and his daughter were landing -at Ross, another boat was putting her passengers ashore at Aberdeen, -_i.e._ Mr. Quentin's very smart gig. A steep hill lay between him and -his bungalow, but declining the elephant in waiting, he and Mr. Lisle, -and another friend, to whom he had given a seat over, commenced to -breast the rugged path together. This latter gentleman was a Dr. Parks, -the principal medical officer in the settlement; a little man with a -sharp face, grey whiskers and moustache, and keen eyes to match; he -was comfortable of figure, and fluent of speech, and prided himself on -having the army list of the Indian staff corps at his fingers' ends; -he could tell other men's services to a week, knew to a day when Brown -would drop in for his off-reckonings, and how much sick-leave Jones had -had. More than this, he had an enormous circle of acquaintances in the -three Presidencies, and if he did not know most old Indian residents -personally, at any rate he could tell you all about them—who they -married, when, and why; who were their friends, enemies, or relations; -what were their prospects of promotion, their peculiarities, their -favourite hill-stations; he was a sort of animated directory (with -copious notes), and prided himself on knowing India as well as another -man knew London. He was unmarried, well off, and lived in the East -from choice, not necessity; he was exceedingly popular in society, was -reputed to have saved two lacs of rupees, and to be looking out for a -wife! - -After climbing the hill for some time in silence, Dr. Parks -paused—ostensibly to survey the scene, in reality to take breath. - -"Hold hard, you fellows," he cried, as the other two were walking on. -"Hold hard, there's no hurry. Looks like a scene in a theatre, doesn't -it?" waving a hand towards the prospect below them. - -"With the moon for lime light?" rejoined Mr. Quentin as he paused and -glanced back upon the steamer, surrounding boats, and the sea, all -bathed in bright, tropical moon-shine; at the many lights twinkling up -and down the island, like fire-flies in a wood. - -Dr. Parks remained stationary for some seconds, contemplating Ross, -with his thumbs in the arm-holes of his waistcoat. At length he said,— - -"I daresay old Denis hardly knows himself to-night, with a girl sitting -opposite him. I hope she will turn out well." - -"You mean that you hope she will turn out good-looking," amended Mr. -Quentin, turning and surveying his companion expressively. "Ah, Parks, -you were always a great ladies' man!" - -"Nonsense, sir, nonsense. I'm not thinking of her looks at all; but the -fact of the matter is, that Denis has had an uncommonly rough time of -it, and I trust he is in shallow water at last, and that this girl will -turn out to be what they call 'a comfort to him.'" - -"I hope she will be a comfort to us all. I'm sure we want some -consolation in this vile hole; but why is Old Denis a special charity?" -inquired Mr. Quentin. - -"_Old_ Denis—well, he is not so old, if it comes to that; in fact, he -is five years my junior, and I suppose _I'm_ not an old man, am I?" -demanded Dr. Parks, with a spark of choler in his eye. - -"Oh, you! you know that you are younger than any of us," rejoined Mr. -Quentin quickly; "time never touches you; but about Denis?" - -"Oh! he has had a lot of bother and worry, and you know that that plays -the deuce with a fellow. The fact of the matter is, that Tom Denis -came to awful grief in money matters," said Dr. Parks, now walking on -abreast of Mr. Quentin, and discoursing in a fluent, confidential tone. - -"His father's affairs went smash, and Tom became security to save the -family name, mortgaged all his own little property that came to him -through his mother, exchanged from a crack regiment at home, and came -out here into the staff corps. It was a foolish, quixotic business -altogether; no one was a bit obliged to him: his sisters thought he -might have done more, his father was a callous old beggar, and took -everything he got quite as a matter of course, and Tom was the support -of his relations, and their scapegoat." - -"The very last animal I'd like to be," remarked Mr. Quentin; "but don't -let me interrupt you; go on." - -"Well, as if Tom had not enough on his hands, he saddled himself with -a wife—a wife he did not want either, a beautiful Greek! It seems -that she burst into tears when he told her he was going to India, and -I'm not sure that she did not faint on his breast into the bargain. -However, the long and the short of it was, that Tom had a soft heart, -and he offered to take her out with him as Mrs. D——. - -"Mrs. Denis had a lovely face, an empty head, no heart, and no money; -in fact, no interest, or connections, or anything! and she was the -very worst wife for a poor man like Tom. She came out to Bombay, and -carried all before her; one would have thought she had thousands at her -back—her carriages, dresses and dinners! 'pon my word, they ran the -Governor's wife pretty hard. There was no holding her; at least, it -would have taken a stronger man than Tom Denis to do that. She flatly -refused to live on the plains, or to go within five hundred miles of -his native regiment; and his _rôle_ was to broil in some dusty, baking -station, and to supply my lady up in the hills, or spending the season -at Poonah or Bombay, with almost the whole of his pay.—I believe she -scarcely left him enough rupees to keep body and soul together!" - -"The man must have been a fool!" said Mr. Lisle emphatically, now -speaking for the first time. - -"Aye, a fool about a pretty face, like many another," growled the -doctor. "There was no denying her beauty! The pure Greek type; her -figure a model, every movement the poetry of motion. She was Cockney -born, though; her father a Greek refugee, conspirator, whatever you -like, and of course, a Prince at Athens, and the descendant of Princes, -according to his own tale—meanwhile a fourth-rate painter in London, -whose Princess kept lodgers! Well, Mrs. Denis was very clever with -her pen, and made capital imitations of her husband's signature! She -borrowed freely from the Soucars, she ran bills in all directions, -she had a vice in common with her kinsfolk of Crete, and she was the -prettiest woman in India! Luckily for Denis (I say it with all respect -to her ashes), she died after a short but brilliant social career, -leaving him this girl and some enormous debts. The fact of the matter -was, Tom was a ruined man. And all these years, between his father's -affairs and his wife's liabilities, his life has been a long battle, -and poor as he was, and no doubt _is_, he never could say no to a needy -friend; and I need scarcely tell you, that people soon discovered this -agreeable trait in his character!" - -"It's a pity he has not a little more moral courage, and that he never -studied the art of saying 'no,'" remarked Mr. Lisle dryly; "it's merely -a matter of nerve and practice." - -"It's not that, exactly," rejoined Dr. Parks, "but that he is too much -afraid of hurting people's feelings, too simple and unselfish. I hope -this girl who has come out will stand between him and this greedy -world!" - -"_I_ should have thought it ought to be the other way." - -"So it ought, but you see what Denis is yourself," turning and -appealing to Jim Quentin. "Go over to him to-morrow morning, and tell -him that you are at your wits' ends for five hundred rupees, and he -will hand it out to you like a lamb." - -"I only wish lambs _were_ in the habit of handing out five hundred -rupee notes, I'd take to a pastoral life to-morrow!" returned Mr. -Quentin fervently, casting a woeful thought to the many long bills he -owed in Calcutta, London, and elsewhere. - -"Let us hope Miss Denis will have some force of character," said -Dr. Parks; "that's the only chance for him! A strong will, like her -mother's, minus her capabilities for making the money fly, and a few -other weaknesses; and here," halting and holding out his hand, "our -roads part." - -"No, no. Not a bit of it," replied Mr. Quentin, taking him forcibly by -the arm. "You just come home and dine with us, doctor, and tell a few -more family histories." - -Dr. Parks was a little reluctant at first, declaring that he was due -elsewhere, that it was quite impossible, &c. &c. - -"It's only the Irwins, I know, and they will think you have stopped at -Ross—it will be all right. Come along." - -Thus Dr. Parks was led away from the path of duty, and down the road -approaching Mr. Quentin's bungalow;—he was rather curious to see the -_ménage_; that was the reason why he had been such an unresisting -victim to Mr. Jim's invitation,—Mr. Jim rarely entertained, and much -preferred sitting at other people's boards to dispensing hospitality at -his own. - -Dinner was excellent—well cooked, well served. Dr. Parks, who was not -insensible to culinary arts, was both surprised and pleased; he had -known his host for many years, had come across him on the hills and -on the plains, on board ship, and in the jungle; they had a host of -acquaintances in common, and after a few glasses of first-rate claret, -and a brisk volley of mutual reminiscences and stories, Dr. Parks began -to tell himself that "he was really very fond of Apollo Quentin, after -all, and that he was one of the nicest young fellows that he knew!" -And what about the man who sat at the foot of the table? Hitherto he -had not been able to classify this Mr. Lisle, nor had he been so much -interested in the matter as other, and idler, people. He had seen him -often coming and going at Aberdeen, and had nodded him a friendly -"Good-morrow," and now and then exchanged a few words with him; his -clothes were shabby, his manner reserved; Dr. Parks understood that -he was a broken-down gentleman, to whom Quentin had given house-room, -and, believing this, he could not help feeling that he was performing -a gracious and kindly action in noticing him, and "doing the civil," -as he would have called it himself, to this beggarly stranger! But -now, when he came to look at the fellow, his appearance was changed. -What wonders can be worked by a decent coat! Seen without his slouch -hat and rusty Karki jacket, he was quite another person; and query, -was that reserved manner of his _humility_? Dr. Parks noticed that -there was nothing subservient in his way of speaking to Quentin; quite -the reverse; that far from holding a subordinate position in the -establishment, servants were more prompt to attend on him than on any -one else, and sprang to his very glance; that he, more than Quentin, -looked after his (Dr. Parks') wants, and saw that his plate and glass -were always replenished to his liking, in which duties Apollo (who -was a good deal occupied with his own dinner and speculations on Miss -Denis's appearance,) was rather slack. When the meal was over, and the -silent, bare-footed servants had left the room, cigars and cigarettes -were brought out, and conversation became general, Mr. Lisle had plenty -to say for himself—when he chose—had travelled much, and had the -polished manners and diction of a man who had mixed with good society. -Dr. Parks scrutinized him narrowly, and summed up his age to be a year -or two over thirty—he looked a good deal younger without his hat; -his hair was black as the traditional raven's wing, slightly touched -with grey on the temples, his eyes were deep-set, piercing, and very -dark, there was a humorous twinkle in them at times, that qualified -their general expression—which was somewhat stern. On the whole, this -Lisle was a handsome man; in quite a different style to his _vis-à-vis_ -Apollo (who lounged with his arm over the back of his chair, and seemed -buried in thought), he was undoubtedly a gentleman, and he looked -as if he had been in the service. All the same, this was but idle -speculation, and Dr. Parks had not got any "forrader" than any one else. - -The pause incident to "lighting up" lasted for nearly five minutes, -then Mr. Quentin roused himself, filled out a bumper of claret, pushed -the decanter along the table, and said,— - -"Gentlemen, fill your glasses. I am about to give you a toast. Miss -Denis—her very good health." - -"What!" to Dr. Parks. "Are you not going to drink it? Come, come, fill -up, fill up." - -"Oh, yes. I'll honour your toast, I'll drink it," he replied, suiting -the action to the word. "And now I'll follow it up by what you little -expect, and that's a speech." - -"All right, make a start, you are in the chair; but be brief, for -goodness' sake. What is the text?" - -"The text is, Do not flirt with Miss Denis." - -"Oh, and pray why not, if she is pretty, and agreeable, and -appreciative?" - -"You know what I told you this very evening. She is a mere school-girl, -an inexperienced child, she is Denis's one ewe lamb, she is to be his -companion, the prop of his old age; if you have any sense of chivalry, -spare her." - -"Spare her!" ejaculated Mr. Quentin with a theatrical gesture of his -hand. "One would think I was a butcher, or the public executioner!" - -"I know," proceeded Dr. Parks, "your proclivities for tender -whisperings, bouquet-giving, and note-writing, in short the whole gamut -of your attentions, and that they never _mean_ anything, but too many -forlorn maidens have learnt to their cost, you most agreeable, but -evasive young man," nodding towards his host with an air of pathetic -expostulation. - -"I say, come now, you know this is ridiculous," exclaimed Mr. Quentin, -pushing his chair back as he spoke. But Dr. Parks was in the vein for -expounding on his friend's foibles, and not to be silenced. - -"You know as well as I do your imbecile weakness for a pretty face, and -that you cannot resist making love to every good-looking girl you see, -until a still better-looking drives her out of your fickle heart." - -"Go on, go on," cried his victim; "you were a loss to the Church." - -"Of course," continued the elder gentleman, clearing his throat, "I can -readily imagine that for you—a society man before anything—these -regions are a vast desert, you are thrown away here, and are -figuratively a castaway, out of humanity's reach. And now fate seems -induced to smile upon you once more, in sending you a possibly pretty -creature to be the sharer of your many empty hours. If I thought you -would be serious, I would not say anything; or if this girl was a -hardened veteran of a dozen seasons, and knew the difference between -jest and earnest, again I would hold my peace; but as it is, I sum up -the whole subject in one word, and with regard to Helen Denis, I say, -_don't_." - -"Hear hear," cried his friend, hammering loudly on the table. "Doctor, -your eloquence is positively touching; but you always _were_ the -ladies' champion. All the same you are exaggerating the situation; I am -a most innocent, inoffensive——" - -"Come now, James Quentin; how about that girl at Poonah that you -made the talk of the station? How about the girls you proposed to -up at Matheran and Murree; what about the irate father who followed -you to Lahore, and from whom you concealed yourself behind the -refreshment-room counter? Eh!" - -"Now, now, doctor, I'll cry peccavi. Spare me before Lisle." - -Who lay back in his chair smoking a cigar—and looking both bored and -indifferent. - -"_You_ don't go in for ladies' society on Ross?" said Dr. Parks, -addressing him abruptly. - -"I—no—" struggling to an erect posture, and knocking the ash off his -cigar. "I only know one lady over there, and she is a host in herself." - -"You mean Mrs. Creery?" - -"Yes, I allude to Mrs. Creery." - -And at the very mention of the name, they all three laughed aloud. - -"And how about Miss Denis, Quentin? you've not given your promise," -said Dr. Parks once more returning to the charge. - -"I'll promise you one thing, doctor," drawled the host, who was -beginning to get tired of his persistence. "I'll not marry her, now -that you have let me behind the scenes about her bewitching mother, and -I'll promise you, that I'll go over and call to-morrow, and see if I -can discover any traces of a Grecian ancestry in Miss Denis's face and -figure." - -"You are incorrigible. I might as well talk to the wall; there's only -one hope for the girl, and that's a poor one." - -"Poor as it is, let us have it." - -"A chance that she may not be taken like twenty-three out of every two -dozen, with fickle Jim Quentin's handsome face!" - -"Where has Lisle gone to?" he added, looking round. - -"Into the verandah, or to bed, or out to _sea_! The latter is just as -likely as anything; he did not approve of the conversation, he thinks -that ladies should never be discussed," and he shrugged his shoulders -expressively. - -"Quite one of the old school, eh?" said the elder gentleman, raising -his eyebrows and pursing out his under-lip. - -"Quite," laconically. - -"By-the-bye, Quentin, I daresay you will think I'm as bad as Mrs. -Creery, but _who_ is this fellow Lisle, and what in the name of all -that's slow is he doing down here?—eh, who is he?" leaning over -confidentially. - -"Oh, he fishes, and shoots, and likes the Andamans awfully.—As to who -he is—he is simply, as you see, a gentleman at large, and his name is -Gilbert Lisle." - -Thus Dr. Parks, in spite of his superior opportunities, was foiled; and -returned to his own abode no wiser than any of his neighbours. - - - - -CHAPTER III. - -FIRST IMPRESSIONS. - - "And I am something curious, being strange." - - _Cymbeline._ - - -THE morning after her arrival Helen Denis found herself alone, as her -father was occupied with drills and orderly-room till twelve o'clock, -when they breakfasted. - -She went out into the verandah, and looked about her, in order to -become better acquainted with the situation of her new home. The -bungalow stood a little way back from the gravel road, that encircled -the whole island, and was shaded by a luxuriant crimson creeper; a -hedge of yellow flowers bordered the path leading up to the door, and -between the house and the sea was a clump of thick cocoa-nut palms, -that stood out in bold relief against the deep cobalt background of -the sky. Jays, parrots, and unfamiliar tropical birds were flitting -about, and from the sea a faint breeze was wafted, bearing strange -fragrant odours from the distant mainland; a light haze lay over the -water, betokening a warm meridian. A few white clouds slumbered in the -hot heavens overhead; and save for the hum of insects and birds, and a -distant sound of oars swinging to and fro in the rowlocks, the place -was as silent as a Sunday morning in the country, when every one has -gone to church.—At first Helen stood, and then she sat down on the -steps to contemplate this scene, which formed the prelude to a new -epoch in her life—she gazed and gazed, and seemed afraid to move her -eyes, lest the vision should escape her. She sat thus without moving -for fully half an hour. - -"Well, what do you think of it all, young woman?" from a voice behind -her, caused her to spring up, and she found her father standing there -in his white uniform, with his sword under his arm. - -"Oh, papa! I never, never saw anything like it; I never dreamt or -fancied there could be such a beautiful spot—it's like fairyland! like -an enchanted country, like"—her similes running short—"like Robinson -Crusoe's island." - -"Rather different to Brompton, eh? I suppose you had not much of a view -there?" - -"View!" she exclaimed; "if there had been one, we could not see it! -for in the first place we were shut in by high, dirty brick walls, and -in the second, all the lower windows were muffled glass; there was one -window at the end of the school-room that overlooked the road, and -though it was pretty high up, it was all painted, but some one had -scratched a little space in it, right in the middle, and often and -often, when I've been saying my lessons, or reading translations in -class, every idea has been sent right out of my head, when I've looked -up at that pane and seen an _eye_ watching us—it always seemed to be -watching _me_! but of course that was imagination; it used to make me -feel quite hysterical at times, and many a bad mark it cost me!" - -"Well, you are not likely to get any bad marks here," said her father, -laying his hand on her shoulder as he spoke; "and you think you will -like Port Blair?" - -"Like—why it seems to me to be a kind of paradise! I wonder half the -world does not come and live here," she replied emphatically. - -To this remark ensued a rather long silence, a silence that was at -length broken by a noise as strange to Helen's ears, as the lovely -scene before her was to her still admiring eyes; this noise was a loud, -fierce, hoarse shout, something like an angry cheer. She glanced at her -father with a somewhat heightened colour, and in answer to her startled -face he said,— - -"Those are the convicts! they leave off work at twelve o'clock, they -are busy on the barracks just now. Stay where you are, and you will see -them pass presently." - -The approach of the convicts was heralded by a faint jingling of chains -that gradually became louder and louder; and in a few moments the -gang came in sight, escorted by four burly, armed warders. Helen drew -back, pale and awe-struck, as she watched this long, silent procession -file past, two and two, all clad in the same blue cotton garment, all -heavily manacled, otherwise there was but little resemblance among -them. There passed the squat Chinaman, chained to the tall, fiery -Pathan (who flung as he went by a glance of bitter hatred and defiance -at the two European spectators); they were in turn followed by a brace -of tattooed Burmans, who seemed rather cheerful than otherwise; then a -few mild Hindoos, then more Arabs, more Burmans, more fierce Rohillas, -more mild Hindoos! - -Helen stood almost breathless, as they glided by, nor did she speak -till the very last sound of clanking chains had died away in the -distance. - -"Poor creatures! I had forgotten _them_!" she said; "this place is no -paradise to 'a prisoner.'" - -"Poor creatures!" echoed her father, "the very scum and sweepings -of her Majesty's Indian Empire—poor murderers, poor robbers, poor -dacoits!" - -"And why are they in chains? such heavy cruel-looking chains?" - -"Because they are either recent arrivals or desperate characters, the -former probably; the worst of the 'poor creatures' are not kept in -Ross, but colonized in other gaols on the mainland, or at Viper." - -"And are there many here on Ross?" - -"About four thousand, including women, but some of these have -tickets-of-leave, and only go back to 'section'—_section_ is a -delicate way of putting it—at night; many of them are our servants." - -"_Our_ servants, papa!" - -"No, I am speaking of the settlement, but our boatmen, our -water-carrier, and—I may as well break it to you at once—our cook, -are, each and all, people who have a past that does not bear close -inquiry! And now, my dear, shall we go in to breakfast?" - -It was a delightful change from his usual solitary meal to have that -bright, pretty face sitting opposite to him; he watched her intently -for some minutes—she was pouring out tea with all the delight of a -child. - -"I've never done it before, papa!" she exclaimed as she despatched his -tea-cup; "be sure you don't let Sawmy know, or he will despise me.—Of -course, being at school I never got a chance. Miss Twigg herself -presided over the hot water, and then in the holidays I had much better -tea, but I never made it." - -"Ah, your holidays, Helen; that is what puzzled me so much about your -Aunt Julia. I understood that you were always to spend your vacation -with the Platts." - -"I did once, when I was small, and I do not think they liked me; so -after a lapse of five years they tried me again—I suppose to see if I -was improved; but these holidays were even _worse_ than the others. I -have a quick temper, and I got into fearful trouble." - -"How?" - -"Oh, it's a very old story, and I hope and trust that I have more -command of my feelings now. I remember I was in the room at afternoon -tea, rather by accident, for I usually took that refreshment -in"—lowering her voice to a stage whisper—"the kitchen! My cousins -are a good deal older than I am—they were grown up then, I perfectly -recollect, though they declare they were _not_——" - -"Well, but it is not a question of your cousins' age, but of some -domestic fracas that you were about to tell me." - -"Yes, I'm always wandering from the point. I recollect it was a Sunday -afternoon, some gentlemen were calling, and they noticed me, and talked -to me, and I was flattered, and doubtless pert; they asked Cousin Clara -who I was, and where I and my classic profile came from, and Aunt Julia -told them that I was her poor brother's child, and added something -about—about—no matter." - -Helen had never heard a word with regard to her other parent, save that -she was a beautiful Greek, who had died young. Her picture she had -seen, and this in itself was sufficient for her to idealize her and -adore her memory—for Azalie Denis had the face of an angel! "She—no, -I won't tell you what she said! but I have never forgotten it; in a -passion of rage, and scarcely knowing what I was doing, I snatched up -a cup of scalding tea, and flung it in Aunt Julia's face. Yes! cup -and all! You may imagine the commotion; you can believe that I was -in disgrace. I was led solemnly from the room, and locked away in a -lumber-closet upstairs, where I remained for the rest of my vacation. -Each day I was asked to apologize, and each day I said 'I _won't_,' so -there I stayed till I went back to school. Ere leaving I was taken down -to my aunt's apartment and told that I was a wicked, bad, abominable -child, and that I would come to an untimely end; and then Cousin Clara -took up a pair of big scissors, and seizing my beautiful thick plait of -hair, sawed and hacked it off close to the nape of my neck!" - -"What! cut off your hair!" exclaimed Colonel Denis, roused to sudden -animation. - -"Yes; though I screamed and struggled, it was of no use. I well -remember the appearance of my poor pigtail in Clara's hand! Well, after -_this_ you will not be surprised to hear that I was never asked to -Upper Cream Street again,—and I was not sorry. I never could get on -with Aunt Julia; I'm so glad that _you_ are not a bit like her, papa! -She used to make me shake in my shoes." - -"And how do you know that I won't do the same?" he asked with a smile. - -"I'm sure you won't. Have another cup of tea, do, please." - -"It's strange that we have so few relations," he said, obediently -passing his cup as he spoke. "Besides your Aunt Julia there's only my -sister Christina; she has been an invalid for years, and never writes." - -"Is not she married to a queer Irishman who lives at a place with a -ridiculous name—Crow-more? And Aunt Julia won't have anything to do -with her?" - -"Yes, your Aunt Julia did not approve of the match. This Sheridan was a -kind of professor that Christina met abroad, a most dreamy, unpractical -genius, with a magnificent head, and a brogue that you could cut with a -hatchet. After living for some years in a small German town, they went -over to Ireland, and there they reside on a property that was left to -him. I write now and then" (and he might have added, enclose a cheque), -"but Christina never sends me a line—I'm afraid they are very badly -off," shaking his head as he stirred his tea. - -"Now tell me something about this delightful place, papa! I've been -reading a good deal about it, I mean the Andamans. They were first -taken possession of in 1789 by the British Government, or rather, the -East India Company, were abandoned in 1796, and resumed in 1858, the -year after the Mutiny; don't I know it all nicely?" - -"You know a great deal more about it than _I_ do." - -"This is Ross, is it not?" - -"Yes, the other settlements are scattered about. People come over here -to church, to shop, to play tennis, and to hear the news." - -"And are there many other people—I don't mean convicts and soldiers?" - -"There are about fifty men, and fifteen or sixteen ladies. No doubt you -will have a good many visitors to-day." - -"Oh, papa! you don't mean it—not to call on _me_?" - -"Yes, of course; who else would they come to see?" - -"It makes me feel quite nervous, the palms of my hands are cold -already; only six weeks ago I was doing French composition and German -translation, and not daring to speak above my breath without leave. And -now all at once I am grown up! I am to receive visitors, I may wear -what I like, and," with an interrogative smile across the table, "do as -I _please_?" - -"As long as you don't throw cups of tea at people, my dear." - -"Now, papa, I'm very sorry I mentioned that if you are going to use it -against me. But do tell me something about the fifteen ladies,—and who -are likely to come and call." - -"Well, there is Mrs. Creery; she is the wife of the head of the -Foolscap Department, and lives close to this. She—well," hesitating, -"she is a very energetic woman, but her"—hesitating again—"manner -is a little against her! rather arbitrary, you know; but we all have -our faults. Then there is Mrs. Caggett; her husband has some trade -with Burmah, and his wife lives here in preference to Moulmein. Miss -Caggett is our only young lady, and"—rather dubiously—"you will see -what you think of _her_. Mrs. Home is the wife of the colonel of this -regiment—I'm only second fiddle, you know; you are certain to have a -kind friend in her. Then there is Mrs. Durand, wife of Captain Durand -of the European detachment here; she is away just now, and a great loss -to the place. There are several ladies at out-stations, whom you are -sure to like." - -"I wish I was sure that they would like _me_," rejoined his daughter -in rather a melancholy voice. "You must bear in mind that I am not -accustomed to the society of grown-up people, and I know that I have -_no_ conversation!" - -"_No_ conversation! and pray what have we been having for the last -three-quarters of an hour?" - -"Oh, that is quite different. I can talk away to you by the week, but -with strangers what can I discuss?—not even the weather, for I don't -know what happens here; it's always fine, I suppose?" - -"You will find plenty to say, I'll engage," returned her father, with -emphasis; "and I have no doubt"—whatever he was going to add was cut -short by the imperious rapping of an umbrella on the wooden steps of -the verandah, and a shrill female voice calling "Boy!" - - - - -CHAPTER IV. - -MISS DENIS HAS VISITORS. - - "What's his name and birth? I cannot delve him to the root." - - _Shakespeare._ - - -"THERE is Mrs. Creery!" exclaimed Colonel Denis, starting up rather -nervously. "She has come to call _first_. Don't keep her waiting." To -Helen, who was hastily smoothing her hair and pulling out her ruffles, -"You will do first-rate; go into the drawing-room, my dear." - -"Yes, but not alone, papa!" taking him by the arm. "You will have to -introduce us—you must come with me." - -You see she had begun to say _must_ already!—Colonel Denis was by no -means reluctant to present his pearl of daughters to the visitor who -had prognosticated that she would be plain, and he was sufficiently -human to enjoy that lady's stare of stolid astonishment, as she took -Helen's hand, and kept it in hers for quite a minute, whilst she -leisurely studied her face. - -"How do you do, Miss Denis? had you a good passage?" - -"Very good, thank you," replied the young lady demurely. - -"I see," sitting down as she spoke, and specially addressing Colonel -Denis, "that you have had new curtains and purdahs put up, and have -actually bought that white marble table that Kursandoss had so long on -hand! How much did you give for it?" - -"One hundred rupees," replied the purchaser in a guilty voice. - -"Heavens and earth!" casting up hands and eyes, "did any one ever -hear of such folly! It is not worth _thirty_. Miss Denis, it's a good -thing that you have come out to look after your father—he is a most -extravagant man!" - -Helen thought that this was a pleasantry, and laughed immoderately. -Mrs. Creery was really most amusing,—but how oddly she was dressed! -She was quite old, in Helen's eyes (in truth she was not far from -fifty), and yet she was attired in a white muslin polonaise trimmed -with rose-coloured bows, and wore a black sailor's hat, with the -letters _Bacchante_ stamped in gold upon the ribbon! Meanwhile the -elder lady had been taking a great deal of interest in Miss Denis's -pretty morning-dress; she had come to the conclusion that the pattern -was too complicated to be what is called "carried away in her eye," and -was resolved to ask for it boldly,—and that before she was many days -older! - -"You may go up to the mess," she said, playfully dismissing her host -with a wave of her plump, mittened hand. "I want to have a chat with -your daughter alone. I came to see her—_you_ are no novelty!" - -"Now, my dear, we shall be quite comfortable," she said, as Colonel -Denis meekly took his departure. "Did you find him much changed?" she -continued, lowering her voice mysteriously. - -"A little, but not"—smiling—"_nearly_ as much changed as I seem to -him!" - -"How much is he going to allow you for the housekeeping?" - -Helen assured her questioner that the subject had not even been -considered. - -Mrs. Creery, on hearing this, was visibly disappointed, and said rather -tartly,— - -"Well, don't listen to anything under five rupees a day—you could not -do it less. The Durands spend that! The Homes _say_ they manage on -four, but that's nonsense, and the children could not be half fed. -Maybe your father will still leave it to Ram Sawmy, but"—with sudden -energy—"you must not hear of that,—the man is a robber!" - -"He has been twenty years with papa," ventured Helen. - -"So much the worse for your father's _pocket_," returned Mrs. Creery -emphatically. "I suppose you have brought out a number of new gowns? -What have you got?" - -"I have a white silk, and a black silk," replied Helen, with some -exultation in her own mind, for they were her first silk dresses. - -"Both perfectly useless here!" snapped the matron. - -"A riding-habit." - -"Stark, staring madness! There's not a horse between this and -Calcutta—unless a clothes-horse! What else?" - -"A cashmere and plush costume." - -"You may just send it back to England, or throw it away." - -Helen paused aghast. - -"Well, well—go on, go on—that's not _all_, surely?" - -"I have some pretty cottons and muslins, and a tennis-dress." - -"Come, that's better; and when are your boxes to be opened?" - -"This afternoon, if possible." - -"Oh, well, I'll come down and see your things to-morrow; I may get -some new ideas, and we are a little behind-hand with the fashions -here," waving once more her mittened hand. "And now to turn to another -subject! It's a great responsibility for a young girl like you to be -placed at the head of even a _small_ establishment like this! I am -older than you are" (it was quite superfluous to mention this fact), "I -know the world, and I wish to give you a word of caution." - -Helen became crimson. - -"I hope you are a steady, sensible girl." - -"I hope so, Mrs. Creery," raising her chin in a manner well known to -Miss Twigg,—a manner betokening insurrection. - -"There now, don't be huffy! I mean to be your friend. I would have -come down and stayed here for the first week or two, to set you going, -if your father had asked me, as you have no lady in the house; however, -I've spoken to him most seriously. All the men in the place will of -course be flocking to call, and turning your head with their silly -compliments. As a rule they are not a bad set of young fellows; but Mr. -Quentin and Captain Rodney are the only two who _I_ should say were in -a position to marry,—the others are just paupers—butterflies! Oh, and -yes"—here her voice became hollow and mysterious—"I must put you on -your guard against a Mr. Lisle." - -"A Mr. Lisle!" echoed Helen, opening her eyes very wide. - -"Yes, Lisle—don't forget the name. He seldom comes over; he lives at -Aberdeen with Mr. Quentin—lives _on_ him, I should say," correcting -herself sharply. "He came here a few months ago—goodness knows from -where. It is generally believed that he is in _hiding_—that he is -under a cloud; he is poor as a rat, has no visible means of livelihood, -and is as close as wax about his past. However, Mr. Quentin shields -him, keeps his secret, and there is nothing more to be said except -this—don't _you_ have anything to say to him; he may have the -impudence to call, but indeed, to give him his due, he does not push. -It is a most unpleasant feeling to have this black sheep living in -the neighbourhood at all; I wish he was well out of the settlement!" -shaking her head expressively. - -Helen, amazed at Mrs. Creery's volubility, sat staring at her in -speechless surprise. Why should she take such pains to warn her against -a man who she admitted did not push, and whom she was not likely to -see? Another knocking in the verandah, and a rather timid voice calling -"Boy!" announced the arrival of a second visitor, and Mrs. Creery rose, -saying,— - -"You will be coming up to the General's tennis this evening, and -we shall meet again, so I won't say good-bye;" then, casting one -last searching glance around the apartment, she, as if seized by -some afterthought, hurried across, coolly pulled back the purdah -(door-curtain), and looked into the dining-room. "Nothing new _there_, -I see," dropping the drapery after a long, exhaustive stare; "nothing -but a filter! Well, _au revoir_," and nodding approvingly at Helen, she -finally took her departure. - -The new arrival was a complete contrast to the parting guest; a pale, -faded, but still pretty little woman, with imploring dark eyes (like -a newly-caught fawn), attired in a neat white dress, a solar topee, -and respectable gloves. She was Mrs. Home, the wife of Colonel Denis's -commanding officer, and the mother, as she plaintively informed Helen, -of no less than nine children! - -"They make me so dreadfully anxious, dear Miss Denis, especially the -seven at home. I live on tenter-hooks from mail-day to mail-day. -Imagine my feelings when they were _all_ in measles last spring!" - -But this was a feat beyond Helen. - -"You have two here?" she asked politely, after a pause. - -"Yes, Tom and Billy. Your father is so fond of them, and they wanted -so much to come and see you. But I told them you would think them a -trouble—and the first call too!" - -Helen eagerly assured her visitor that they would have been most -welcome, and rushing impulsively out of the room, returned with a box -of chocolate-creams she had purchased for her own delectation; which -she sent to the young gentlemen with her best love, requesting that -they would come and call as soon as possible. This gift, and message, -completely won their mother's heart. At first she had been a little -doubtful, a little in awe, of this pretty, fashionable-looking girl, -but now she became much warmer in manner, and said,— - -"You know, my dear, I'm not a society lady, I have no time for gaiety, -even if I were fitted for it; between sewing for my boys and girls -at home, and my letters, and my housekeeping, not to mention Tom and -Billy, I never seem to have a spare moment. I came down here early on -purpose, hoping to be the _first_ to welcome you, but I was late after -all!" and she smiled deprecatingly. "Your father is such a very dear -friend of ours, that I feel as if I had a kind of claim on you, and -hope you won't stand on ceremony with us, but come to see us as often -as you can. Will you?" - -"I shall be very glad indeed, thank you." - -"You see, you and I being the only ladies in the 'Puggarees' too,—it -is a kind of bond, is it not? If I can help you in any way about -your housekeeping, be sure you let me know, won't you? I am an old -campaigner of fifteen years' standing, and everything, of course, is -quite new to you. You and your father, I hope, will come up and dine -with us quietly to-morrow night, and then you and I can have a very -nice long chat." - -Helen thanked Mrs. Home for her invitation, and said that if her father -was not engaged, she was sure they would be most happy to accept it. - -"And now, my dear," said the little lady, rising, "I must really go! -the Dhoby has been waiting for me at home this half-hour, I know, and -I have all the clean clothes to sort, so I will wish you good-bye. -May I kiss you?" holding Helen's hand, and looking at her with timid, -appealing eyes. Helen became rather red, but smiled assent, thereupon -the salute was exchanged, and Mrs. Home presently took her departure. - -After this visit, there was a long interval. Colonel and Miss Denis -were equipped and ready to start for the General's tennis party, when -Sawmy brought in another card; a small one this time, bearing the name -of "Mr. James Quentin." The card was almost instantly followed by that -gentleman, looking as if he had just stepped out of a band-box. Having -cordially wrung his host's hand, and been presented to his daughter, -he seated himself near the young lady, placed his hat on the floor, -and commenced to discuss the climate, her passage, &c., surveying the -new arrival critically at the same time. "She was much prettier than -he expected," he said to himself as he summed her up; "her profile -was not classical, but it would pass; her eyes were fine in shape and -colour, though their expression was rather too merry for _his_ taste; -he imagined that she had plenty of spirits, and but a meagre supply of -sentiment. Her complexion was perfect, but of course _that_ would not -last three months!" On the whole, he was most agreeably surprised, and -her dainty dress, and ladylike deportment, were as refreshing to his -eyes, as a spring of water to a traveller in the desert! The shape -of her hat, the fit of her long gloves, her brilliant colour, and -pure English accent, all mentally carried him back to the Park once -more—his Mecca! Yes, the fall of Miss Denis's draperies, the very lace -in her ruffles, were each a source of gratification to her visitor, who -had a keen eye for such things, and was a connoisseur in toilettes. -He told himself emphatically that this young lady was "no end of a -find!" but, aloud, he politely inquired if Colonel and Miss Denis were -going up to the tennis. They were. Well, he was going too—a sudden -resolution—and might he be permitted to accompany them? - -Mr. James Quentin felt an additional sense of importance, as he -strolled up the narrow path towards the General's grounds, personally -conducting Miss Denis (coolly leaving her father to bring up the rear -alone, as the pathway was too narrow to permit of three abreast), and -he honestly believed, that the young lady beside him could not be -launched into settlement society under happier, or more distinguished, -auspices. - - - - -CHAPTER V. - -WHAT IS SHE LIKE? - - "So sweet a face, such angel grace, - In all that land had never been." - - -HELEN found her reception a most trying ordeal. She was very cordially -welcomed by the General, who instantly came forward to meet her, and -escorted her towards Mrs. Creery; she ran the gauntlet of two groups -of men who were standing on the tennis-ground, ostensibly discussing -the recent mail, but naturally watching the new arrival, who was the -cynosure of every eye, as she passed by; and approached a row of seats -on which the ladies—a still more formidable phalanx—were seated in -state. Mrs. Creery (who occupied the social throne in the shape of a -stuffed arm-chair) now rose majestically, and, like Cedric the Saxon, -advanced two steps, saying in her most dulcet company voice, "Very -glad you have come, Miss Denis; I am _charmed_ to welcome you to Port -Blair!" - -Helen blushed vividly. Was this august, this almost regal, individual, -the same who had questioned, exhorted, and warned her, a few hours -previously? She could scarcely believe it! But this was merely her -ignorance. That visit had been made in a private capacity, here Mrs. -Creery was in a public and responsible position—that of chief lady of -the station. - -She now took Helen's hand in hers, and proceeded to present her to her -immediate circle. - -"Mrs. Caggett, let me introduce Miss Denis." - -Mrs. Caggett rose, made a kind of plunge, intended for a curtsey, and -subsided again, muttering incoherently. - -"Miss Denis, Mrs. Graham. Mrs. Graham is our musician. She sings and -plays most beautifully!" - -Mrs. Graham, who was a pretty brunette, with lovely teeth, shook hands -with Helen, and smiled significantly, as much as to say, "You must not -mind Mrs. Creery." - -"Miss Denis, Mrs. King.—Mrs. King has a nice little girl, and lives at -Viper." - -"Miss Denis, Mrs. Logan, our authoress." Poor Mrs. Logan blushed till -the tears came into her eyes, and said,— - -"Oh, Mrs. Creery, _please_ don't." - -"Nonsense, nonsense! Miss Denis, she has written the _sweetest_ -poetry—one really exquisite ode, called, let me see, 'The Lifer's -Lament,' and numbers of charming sonnets! You must get her to read them -to you, some day." - -Alas for Mrs. Logan! who in a moment of foolish expansiveness had -mentioned her small poems (under the seal of secrecy) to another lady, -and had, to her horror, "awoke and found herself famous!" - -"Mrs. Manners, Miss Denis," and she paused, as if deliberating on what -she could possibly say for Mrs. Manners. - -"Please don't mind about _me_, Mrs. Creery," exclaimed that lady. "You -know that I neither play, nor sing, nor write poetry." - -Mrs. Manners was a sprightly person, regarded by Mrs. Creery with -suspicion and dislike, and she now glowered on her menacingly. - -"I am very glad to see Miss Denis, and I hope she will overlook my -numerous deficiencies!" quoth Mrs. Manners unabashed. - -All the ladies had now been, as it were, "told off," excepting Miss -Caggett, who approached and squeezed Helen's fingers, and looked up in -her face, and said,— - -"So _thankful_, dear, that you have come! It's so wretched for me, -being the only girl in the settlement. You can't think how I have been -looking forward to _this_," another squeeze. - -Miss Lizzie Caggett was small in person (and mind) and had a very -pretty little figure, black hair, bright, reddish-brown eyes, an ugly -nose, and an almost lipless mouth, garnished with beautiful teeth. -She had been born in India, had had three years at school in England, -and been "out" for a considerable number of seasons. She danced like -a sylph, talked Hindostani like a native (and it was whispered that -she gossipped with her ayah in that language), dressed extravagantly, -was as lively as a French-woman, and sufficiently nice-looking to be -considered a beauty—where she was the only unmarried lady among fifty -men. - -She had a shrewd eye to the main chance, and never allowed her feelings -to betray her, save, alas! in the case of James Quentin! - -He, from sheer lack of something to do, had been wont to spend his -idle hours in Miss Caggett's society. She was amusing and lively, and -said such deliciously spiteful things of other women, and told capital -stories, accompanied by vehement gesticulation with her tiny hands. She -had also a nice little voice,—and it came to pass that they sang duets -together, and walked on the pier by moonlight alone! - -Mr. Quentin meant nothing, of course, and at first Lizzie quite -understood this, but by degrees her strong foothold of common sense -slipped away from under her feet, and she fell desperately in love with -the blue-eyed gay deceiver, and naturally tried to convince herself -that it was mutual! She steeled herself to see him pay a little -attention to the rising sun—Miss Helen Denis—they would _all_ do -that, but when the novelty had worn off, things would right themselves, -and fall back into their old places—meaning that Mr. Quentin would -fall back into his, _i.e._, at her side. Mrs. Creery had previously -broken the news to her that "Helen Denis was nice-looking, and -beautifully dressed," but she was by no means prepared for the face and -figure she beheld coming up the walk; and James Quentin in attendance -_already_,—actually before she was twenty-four hours on the island! -However, she made a brave struggle, and bit her lips, and clenched her -small hands, and broke into a smile. She had made up her mind to be -the bosom friend (outwardly), and, if possible, the confidante of this -tall, shy-looking Denis girl! - -After all, who could expect her to be pleased, to see a young and -pretty rival monopolizing every one's attention, and thrusting her into -the background? - -When all the introductions had been effected, a game of tennis was got -up, and a number of little Andamanese boys, in white tunics and scarlet -caps, came forward from some lurking-place, to field the balls, and the -settlement band, which was stationed at the end of the plateau, struck -up their latest waltz, and presently the entertainment was in full -swing. Every one played tennis, even Mrs. Creery, who was old or young -as it suited her at the moment—old enough to ask questions, to give -advice, and to lay down the law, and to be treated with unquestioning -deference and deep respect; sufficiently young to waltz, to wear sailor -hats, and to disport herself at tennis. Helen had been the championess -player at Miss Twigg's, and played well. Lizzie Caggett's sharp eyes -noted this, and after a little while she challenged her to a single set -there and then. - -Vainly did Helen decline to pick up the gauntlet, vainly did she beg -to be excused; Mrs. Creery threw the weight of her authority into the -scale, and the match was to come off immediately. - -"A capital idea, a match between the two girls," she remarked to the -General; "there will just be time for it before tea." - -Before Helen could realize her position, a ball was thrust into her -hand, a crowd had gathered around, and she alone stood _vis-à-vis_ to -Lizzie Caggett on the tennis-ground. It was one thing to play in Miss -Twigg's back-garden, with no spectators but Miss Twigg's girls, but -quite another affair when one of the principals in a contest, before -forty complete strangers, and pitted against a determined-looking -antagonist, who knew every inch of the courts, and was firmly resolved -to try conclusions with this brilliant visitor! - -And so the match began, the assembled bystanders watching each game -intently, and hanging expectant on the issue of each stroke. The -excitement grew intense, for the ladies were well-matched, the play -was brilliant, and the games hard fought. Helen served well, and had -a longer reach of arm than her challenger, but the other played with -an energy, a vivacity, and if one might say so, a spitefulness,—as if -the issue of the contest was a matter of life and death. She scored -the first game, Helen the second and third, and during a rally in the -latter, the new arrival was loudly clapped. This incited Miss Caggett -to extraordinary exertions. She played with redoubled fire, her teeth -were set, her eyes gleamed across the net, she served as though in -hopes that she would strike her opponent in the face; she flitted up -and down her court, springing and bounding, like a panther in a cage! -Her style was by no means graceful, but it was effectual. During -the last two games she wearied out Helen, with her quick, untiring -onslaught, playing the final, and conquering game, with an exuberance -of force that was almost fierce! When it was over, she threw down her -bat and clapped her hands, and cried,— - -"Oh, I knew I could beat you." This was not, strictly speaking, polite, -but her triumph was so great, she really could not refrain from this -little song of victory. In her own heart, she had made a kind of test -of the match, and told herself that, if she conquered the new-comer in -_this_, she would be invincible in other things as well! - -After this exciting struggle, tea and refreshments were served in a -rustic summer-house. Mrs. Creery's dog Nip—who had occupied his -mistress's chair as deputy, and eyed the cake and bread and butter with -demure rascality,—was now called upon to vacate his place, whilst his -owner dispensed tea and coffee, and servants carried round cakes and -ices. As Helen was partaking of one of the latter, her late antagonist -accosted her and said,— - -"Come and take a turn with me, dear. All the men are having 'pegs,' and -I do so want to have a chat with you. - -"Well, now," taking her arm affectionately, "tell me what you think of -the place?" - -"I think it is beautiful," returned Helen with enthusiasm. "I've never -seen anything like it. Of course I've seen very little of the world, -and am not a good judge, but I scarcely think that any scenery could -surpass it," glancing over towards Mount Harriet as she spoke, and -dreamily watching the peacocks sailing homewards. - -This speech was a disappointment to Miss Caggett, who was in hopes that -she would have called it an "unearthly, outlandish, savage hole, a -gaol!" And then she would have imparted this opinion to the settlement -at large,—and such an opinion would have scored a point against Miss -Helen. - -"Oh," she replied, "you won't think it delightful always. It's -frightful in the monsoons, that is in the rains, you know. And how do -you like the people?" - -"I scarcely know them yet." - -"Well, at least you know Mr. Quentin," eyeing her sharply. - -"Yes, I have known him an _hour_," she replied with a laugh. - -"He is nice enough," speaking with assumed nonchalance, "but as you can -see, awfully conceited, isn't he?" - -Helen did not fall into the trap; if she had, Miss Caggett would have -lost no time in giving Apollo the benefit of Miss Denis's impressions -with regard to him! - -She only said, "Is he?" and, leaning her elbows on the wooden railing -that fenced in the edge of the cliff, looked down upon the sea. - -"A great many men are here from Aberdeen and the out-stations," -proceeded Miss Caggett with a backward jerk of her head, "but they did -not come over altogether to see _you_." - -"I should hope not indeed," returned Helen, reddening. - -"No, the mail is in, so they kill two birds with one stone," continued -the other, coolly. "They are not a bad set, though they may seem rough -and unpolished to you, don't they?" - -"Really, I am no judge; I have scarcely ever spoken to a gentleman in -my life." - -"Gracious!" ejaculated Miss Caggett. "You weren't in a convent?" - -"No; but what amounted to the same thing, I spent all my holidays at -school." - -"Oh, _how_ slow for you! Well, you will find this rather a change. -There is Dr. Malone, an Irishman, and very amusing; he has any amount -of impudence, and has thought of a lovely name for Mrs. Creery—Mrs. -Query—isn't it splendid? We all call her that, for she never stops -asking questions, and we all have to answer them whether we like it or -not—all but one; there is one person she never gets anything out of, -he is too close even for her, and clever—I grant him that,—much as I -detest him!" - -"And who is this clever man that baffles Mrs. Creery?" - -"A Mr. Lisle, a genteel loafer, a hanger-on of Mr. Quentin's; he -actually has not got the money to pay his passage back to Calcutta, and -so he is obliged to stay. His manners are odious, polite to rudeness, -if you know what that means? and he has eyes that seem to look down -into your inmost thoughts, and laugh at what they see there! I hate -him, though he is extremely anxious to be civil to me, and, in fact, I -don't mind telling you in confidence that he is a great _admirer_ of -mine,—but it's by no means mutual. Whatever you do, have nothing to -say to him. I need not tell you, that _I_ never speak to him!" - -"We cannot permit you two young ladies to monopolize each other in this -fashion," said the General, approaching with a telescope in his hand. -"Would you like to look at some of the islands through this glass, -Miss Denis? I can introduce you to several this fine clear evening. -Havelock looks quite close!" - -"It seems to be very large," she said, after a long struggle with the -focus. - -"Well, yes, it is; we will take you there some day in the _Enterprise_ -if you like. The _Enterprise_ is the station steamer." - -"Thank you, I should like it very much indeed, if it is _safe_—I mean, -if the people are safe," she replied rather anxiously. - -"Oh! you will see very little of the natives. They are a curious set; -it is almost impossible to get at them, or to tame them." - -"Have you ever tried?" - -"Yes; we once had a young fellow from Havelock, as it happened; we -showed him every kindness, gave him the best of food, loaded him with -beads and every old tall hat on the island, but it was all of _no_ use; -he just fretted like a bird in a cage, and regularly pined away of home -sickness.—He used to sit all day long, gazing, gazing over the sea in -the direction of his home, and one morning when they went to see him, -they found him sitting in his usual attitude, his face turned towards -Havelock—quite dead!" - -"Poor, poor fellow!" said Helen, with tears in her eyes; "how _could_ -you be so cruel, how could you have had the heart to keep him?" - -"My dear young lady, it was not a matter of heart, but of duty." - -Mr. Quentin's quick ear caught the significant word _heart_. Surely the -General was never going to enter the lists against him, although he was -unmarried and eligible beyond dispute? Leaning his elbows on the rail -at the other side of Miss Denis, he resolved to make a third—welcome -or otherwise—and said,— - -"You are talking of the natives, sir? They are certainly most -mysterious aborigines, for they do not resemble the Hindoos on -one side, nor the Malays on the other. They are more like stunted -niggers—you never see a man above five feet, some not more than four." - -"Niggers, yes," replied the General; "there is some idea that they -are descendants of the cargo of a slaver that was wrecked among these -islands; other people think that they hail from New Guinea." - -"They have very odd customs, have they not?" asked Helen. - -"Yes," replied the General; "their mode of sepulture, for instance, is -peculiar. When a man dies, they simply put his body up a tree." - -("Whence the slang term 'up a tree,' I suppose," muttered Mr. Quentin, -_sotto voce_.) - -"And when the fowls of the air have picked his bones, they remove the -remains, and present his skull to the widow, who wears it round her -neck, slung to a string." - -"But will freely part with it at any time," added Dr. Malone, who had -now joined the group, "aye, even in the early days of her affliction, -in consideration of a bottle of rum." - -"And pray what about the _men_?" inquired Helen, jealous for her sex. - -"Oh, their tastes are comparatively simple," responded the doctor; -"they are all a prey to a devouring passion for—you will never guess -what—_tall hats_! I believe some firm in Calcutta drives a brisk trade -with this place and the Nicobars, bartering old tiles for cocoa-nuts. -When a chief dies, he can have no nobler monument in the eyes of his -survivors than a pile of tall hats impaled above his grave. They are -almost the only article they care about, and I suppose they have an -idea that it endows them with dignity and height; besides the hat, a -few rags, and a necklace of human finger-bones, and their costume is -complete." - -"They have another weakness," put in the General—"dogs. We get rid of -all the barrack curs in that way." - -"What! to _eat_?" almost screamed Miss Denis. - -"No, no; they are very much prized—merely to look at. I wish to -goodness we could export that brute of Mrs. Creery's!" - -"She would far sooner be exported herself!" said Dr. Malone. "What was -his last feat, sir?" - -"I wish I could believe that it _was_ his last," returned the General -angrily. "The other day, when Mrs. Creery was dining up at my place, -she unfortunately shut him up in the drawing-room, and for sheer spite -at missing the meal, he tore up a valuable fur rug, gutted the seats of -two chairs, and ate the best part of the last army list! Yes, you may -laugh, Miss Denis, and it certainly sounds very funny—but you don't -know Nip." - -"No, but _I_ do," cried Dr. Malone. "He lies down and feigns death -if he sees a larger dog coming in the distance, and will murder any -unfortunate pup of half his size; some dogs have a sense of chivalry, -generosity, gratitude, but he is a _brute_!" - -"Yes," chimed in Mr. Quentin, "if things are not going to his liking, -he adjourns to Creery's dressing-room, and devours a couple of pairs -of boots; that is to say, tears and gnaws them to pieces, just to mark -his sense of injury. If they only disagreed with him!—but they don't, -and Creery can't even have the poor satisfaction of licking him; for -whenever Nip sees him arming himself with a stick, he at once fastens -on his leg, believing the first blow to be half the battle!" - -"A portrait from life!" exclaimed Dr. Malone. "I wish I might be -allowed a shot at him at 100 yards!" - -"I wish you might; and if you do get the chance, I'll wink at it," -returned the General; "he is an insufferable nuisance—a savage, mean, -mischievous, lazy, cowardly——" - -"Now, now, General," cried Nip's mistress, coming across the grass in -a swinging walk, her arms dangling loosely at her sides, "what is all -this wonderful laughing about? and who are you abusing—man, woman, -or child? It's seldom that you say a word against any one! Come, who -is it? Shall I guess who is mischievous, lazy, and _mean_? Now really -you might let _me_ into the secret, when it's known to Miss Denis. -Can it be any one in Ross? Dear me!"—with sudden animation,—"I have -it!—it's——" - -Of course she was just about to exclaim "Mr. Lisle," when the General -hastily interrupted her, saying, "We were not talking scandal; it was -merely a little joke of ours"—looking appealingly at Dr. Malone and -Helen, who were choking with suppressed laughter—indeed the very -railings behind the former were shaking dangerously,—"it was only -a miserable jest, Mrs. Creery," reiterated the General, nervously -(seeing that her mind was bent on dragging the secret from his bosom), -"that was all, really, you know. And, by-the-way," lowering his -voice, and speaking confidentially, "I wanted to consult you about -something—about getting up a little dinner for Miss Denis." - -To be consulted, and by the General, was much to Mrs. Creery's mind, -so she immediately walked aside with him, prepared to give her whole -attention to the discussion. It now was nearly eight o'clock, and -people were leaving. Helen was escorted to her own door by Dr. Malone -and Mr. Quentin, Colonel Denis once more bringing up the rear, but -this time he had a companion—Miss Caggett. Mr. Quentin lingered below -the steps of the verandah, and squeezed Helen's fingers as he took a -very reluctant leave of her. He half hoped that he would have been -earnestly requested to honour them with his company at dinner, but this -hope was doomed to disappointment, he was dismissed by Colonel Denis -with a careless nod! Later on, as Helen sat alone in the verandah, and -looked out over the sea, recalling the scenes of this most wonderful, -eventful day, and dwelling on all the new faces she had seen and the -strange things she had heard, it is an extraordinary, but veracious -fact, that—with the perversity common to her sex—she cast more than -one thought to a man she had been twice warned against in the same -afternoon, in short, Mr. Quentin's pauper-friend, Gilbert Lisle. - - * * * * * - -Meanwhile Mr. Quentin had been rowed over to Aberdeen, had climbed the -hill in capital spirits, and with a healthy appetite; and had found -his companion already at home, reposing in an arm-chair in front of -the bungalow, smoking. He fully expected to be severely cross-examined -about his visit, and on the subject of Miss Denis, and was prepared to -enter into the fullest details, and to paint the lady in the richest -tints, but, alas! a disappointment awaited him. Lisle never once -referred to Ross—much less to the young lady. He had had a big take of -fish, and had caught three bottle-nosed sharks off the Red Buoy—bait, -hooks, and nets engrossed his mind entirely. - -Mr. Quentin was seriously affronted. Was ever such callousness known? -could such indifference be matched? Indifference that would not even -take the trouble to ask such a simple question as "What is she like?" - - - - -CHAPTER VI. - -QUEEN OF THE CANNIBAL ISLANDS. - - "An eye like mine, - A lidless watcher of the public weal." - - _Tennyson._ - - -PERHAPS it would be as well, before going further with this story, to -dedicate a page or two to a description of that very important lady, -Mrs. Creery. The gentleman who occupied a position in the background -as "Mrs. Creery's husband," was a hard-working, hard-headed Scotchman, -who thoroughly understood domestic politics, and the art of holding his -peace. He had come to Port Blair soon after the settlement was opened -up, and had subsequently gone home, and returned with a bride, a lady -not, strictly speaking, in her first youth—this was twenty years ago. -But let no one suppose that Mrs. Creery had spent the whole of that -interval on Ross. She had made several trips to England, and had passed -like a meteor through the circles in which her sister, Lady Grubb, was -as the sun. Oh, how utterly weary were Mrs. Creery's intimates of those -brilliant reminiscences—heard for the thousandth time. Did they not, -one and all, detest the very name of "Grubb"? - -How was it, people asked each other, that Mrs. Creery had reigned so -long and so tyrannically at Ross? How came she to occupy a position, -from which nothing could dislodge her—there had been mutinies, there -had been social risings, but they all had been quelled. Even a lady -who had positively refused to go in to dinner, unless she was taken in -before Mrs. Creery, had been quenched! Circumstances had placed the -latter on the social throne, and not election by ballot, much less -the potent power of personal popularity. The General was a widower, -the chaplain a bachelor, the next senior officer unmarried also, the -wife of another was an invalid, and spent nearly all her time in the -south of France (according to Mrs. Creery, for south of France, read -lunatic asylum). She herself was a woman of robust constitution, and -always ready to say "present," consequently, the position of leading -lady in the settlement fell to her happy lot! She "received" at the -General's parties and dances, she occupied a chief place at feasts, -a front pew in church, and had a whole programme to herself on band -nights. After all, there was not much in this, one would imagine; but -Mrs. Creery thought otherwise. The General, an urbane and popular -elderly gentleman, was governor over the Andamans, in the Queen's name; -he was her Majesty's representative, and held the lives of fifteen -thousand convicts in the hollow of his hand; his dominions stretched -from the Cocos to Havelock, and included even the distant Nicobars. As -his social coadjutor, Mrs. Andrew Creery considered that she shared -all his other dignities, and had gradually come to look upon herself -as a species of crowned head, ruling not merely the settlement, the -Europeans, and the convicts, but even the far-away savages of the -interior! These royal ideas had developed but gradually—a little germ -(sown by the first strains of "God save the Queen," played as she -accompanied the General to a presentation of prizes) had thrown out -roots and suckers, and planted a sense of her own dignity in her bosom, -that nothing but death could eradicate! - -Mrs. Creery had no children and ample leisure, and with such a -magnificent idea of her social status, no one will be surprised to hear -that she condescended to manage the domestic concerns of all within her -realms. She had come to look upon this as a sacred duty, and viewed all -comings and goings with microscopic scrutiny. The position of her house -favoured this self-imposed supervision; it was close to the pier, had -a good back view of the bazaar, and the principal road ran by her door, -and consequently it is no exaggeration to say that _nothing_ escaped -her. From long practice she could tell at a glance where people were -going as they ran the gauntlet of her verandah; if the General wore -a "regulation" helmet, he was probably _en route_ to an execution at -Viper (an island five miles away); if his Terai, he was bound for the -new buildings on Aberdeen, or to make semi-official calls; if his old -topee, he was merely going out shelling. Ross was a small island, very -thickly populated. Mrs. Creery could easily make the circuit of it in -twenty minutes, and did so at least thrice in the twenty-four hours. - -She had no home ties, no domestic tastes; she did not care for flowers -nor work; never opened a book, and looked upon shelling as childish -nonsense. Her one taste was for poultry; her one passion, her dog -"Nip," and when she had fed her hens, collected their eggs, given out -daily stores, scolded her domestics, she had nothing to occupy her for -the remainder of the day. After early breakfast she generally donned -her well-known topee, and sallied forth on a tour of inspection; to -quote Captain Rodney, who could not endure her, she "turned out" each -family at least once daily, and never omitted "visiting rounds." She -had by this time pretty well exhausted Ross—and the patience of its -inhabitants; she knew every one's affairs, and what they paid their -servants (and what their servants said of them in the bazaar), and what -stores they got in, just as well as they did themselves. - -Mr. Lisle had undoubtedly baffled her (though she had not done with him -yet); however, Helen Denis was a novelty, and opened up an entirely new -sphere of interest; therefore, ere nine o'clock on the day after the -tennis party, Mrs. Creery's umbrella was once again heard imperiously -rapping on the steps of Colonel Denis's verandah. - -"You don't breakfast till twelve, I know," she called out; "for I met -your cook and asked him, and it's only just nine"—this to Helen, who -had come to the drawing-room door. "It's only just nine, and we shall -have a nice long morning to ourselves, and be able to look at your -things comfortably. Are you unpacking now?" - -Helen very reluctantly acknowledged that she was—had just got all her -boxes open. - -"Then I shall come and help you," said her visitor, laying down her -umbrella, and speaking as if she were conferring a great favour. "You -go first, and I'll follow." - -She was quite as good as her word. There she sat, with her hands on -her knees, her topee pushed well back (so as not to interfere with her -vision), in closest proximity to Helen's largest trunk, and saw every -article separately taken out and unfolded. Nothing escaped her; all she -saw, she priced; and all she fancied she tried on (or tried to try on), -and meanwhile she kept up a running fire of comments somewhat in this -style:— - -"So _that's_ your black silk; and trimmed with lace, I declare! most -unsuitable for a girl like you—quite ridiculous! I shall speak to your -father, and if he likes, I don't mind taking it off his hands. I dare -say there is _some_ letting out, and I'm rather in want of a dress for -my receptions." - -"Yes," gasped Helen, who was kneeling on the floor, "but I do not wish -to part with my black silk." - -"What use is it? _You_ can't wear it," irritably. "Every one would -laugh at you if you came up to one of the 'at homes' in a gown like -that, and saw _me_ in a simple muslin. It's not suitable to your -position—do you understand that?" - -"I did not mean to wear it at tennis," stammered Helen—who was a -little cowed by Mrs. Creery's eye; "but Miss Twigg said that it would -be useful." - -"Not a bit of it! What does she know about what would be useful?" -retorted the lady rudely. - -Miss Denis made no reply, but was firmly resolved that nothing short -of physical force should part her and her very best dress. Mrs. -Creery said no more either, but determined to have a word with the -Colonel by-and-by, and also to give him _her_ opinion of the absurd -extravagance of his daughter's outfit! - -As she sat drawn up beside Helen's trunks whilst she unpacked, her -perpetual queries, "What is this? What did you give for that?" were, -to say the least of it, trying. However, her victim was but recently -emancipated from school, had a wholesome awe of her elders, and a -remarkably sweet temper, so the whole inspection passed off quite -smoothly, and entirely to Mrs. Creery's satisfaction. - -"I saw you talking to Lizzie Caggett last evening," she remarked, as -she arranged her topee at the mirror, and dodged her profile in a -hand-glass. "What was she saying to you?" - -"She was asking me what I thought of the place?" - -"Well, don't tell her much—that's _my_ advice to you! She is certain -to come here borrowing your patterns, but don't lend her _one_! I shall -be really angry with you if you do." (This came well from a lady who -was carrying off the promise of half-a-dozen.) And little did Helen -know the large reading a Dirzee gives to the term "taking a pattern." -It means that he rips up seams, punches holes in the material with his -gigantic scissors, and turns a new garment inside out and upside down, -with as little ceremony as if it were an old thing that was going to -the rag-bag. At present, ignorance was bliss. Mrs. Creery's convict -Dirzee was coming down that very afternoon to carry away Helen's two -prettiest and freshest costumes! - -"Now," continued the elder lady, "mind with I say about Lizzie Caggett; -she has dozens of dresses, and is head over ears in debt in Calcutta, -not to speak of the bazaar here—I know myself that she owes Abdul -Hamed two hundred rupees,—and do not encourage her in her wicked -extravagance." - -Then walking to the window, she cried out rapturously, "What a view! -Why, I had no idea of this; you can see every _bit_ of the road—and -there's the General going up home, and Mr. Latimer with him! I suppose -he has asked him to breakfast—that's the second time this week! And -here comes Dr. Malone, _running_; he has something to tell him! Oh, I -must go! Where's my umbrella? Don't forget the dresses," and without -further adieux, Mrs. Creery was flying down the steps, brandishing her -arms, and calling out in a shrill falsetto,— - -"Stop, stop, Dr. Malone. I'm coming. Wait for _me_!" - - - - -CHAPTER VII. - -MR. QUENTIN'S PIANO. - - "I have assailed her with music, but she vouchsafes no notice." - - _Cymbeline._ - - -MAIL-DAY had come round once more, and Helen could hardly believe that -she had been already six weeks on Ross, it seemed more like six days. -She had made the acquaintance of almost everybody, had visited the -mainland, and Chatham and Viper; had ridden on a settlement elephant, -had been to two picnics, and dozens of tennis parties, and was -beginning to realize that she really was the mistress of that pretty -bungalow under the palm-trees on the hill-side. - -She was now great friends with Mrs. Home, and solemnly engaged to -Billy; she saw Miss Caggett daily, and Mrs. Creery almost hourly, and -other people called with complimentary frequency; notably Mr. Quentin, -who found many excuses for tarrying in Miss Denis's drawing-room, -and, remarkable to relate, Miss Caggett invariably contrived to drop -in on the same occasions. She was usually in the highest spirits, and -laughed, and smiled, and chatted as agreeably as if she had not come -on purpose to mount guard over a recreant admirer, and by her presence -endeavour to modify his attentions to her rival! Mr. Quentin found -her company a bore; how could he settle down to read poetry, or to -talk vague sentimental follies, whilst Miss Lizzie's sharp, shadeless -eyes were following every look and movement? Moreover, she seasoned -her conversation with disagreeable remarks, uncomfortable questions, -and unpleasant insinuations.—Miss Denis was musical, but at present -she had no piano; her father had promised her a new one from Calcutta -after Christmas, but in the meantime she must wait. Mr. Quentin was -surprised to find that he did not make as rapid strides in Helen's good -graces as he usually did under similar circumstances, but he accounted -for this amazing fact quite readily in his own mind, and was not one -whit daunted. In the first place, she had but little sentiment in her -composition; she was a sort of a girl who, if you invited her "to come -out and look at the moon" in your company, would be certain to burst -out laughing in your face—and yet it seemed to him that her own face -would make an admirable subject for a very charming romance—she was so -absurdly matter-of-fact, so ready in turning off tender speeches, and -so provokingly inclined to ridicule his most warranted compliments. Of -_course_ she liked him—the reverse never once dawned upon his arrogant -brain—but why was she so hard to get on with? Doubtless, Lizzie -Caggett's haunting presence handicapped him heavily; but Rome was not -built in a day, and he had a grand idea—nothing less than sending -Miss Denis over his piano as a loan—with a view to vocal duets. His -attentions to the young lady had been very "marked" in Mrs. Creery's -opinion; he was her shadow at all the "at homes," no other man had a -chance of speaking to her; but _this_"attention," which Mrs. Creery -beheld coming up the pier, and borne by twenty staggering coolies, -threw all his previous advances entirely into the shade. - -The good lady hurried on ahead, and burst into Helen's drawing-room, -breathless (the umbrella-rapping stage was a ceremony of the past), -saying,— - -"What do you think? There is a piano coming up the pier in charge of -Mr. Quentin's butler—twenty coolies carrying it, at eight annas each! -Mr. Quentin is sending it over to you—and, of course, it's _all_ -settled? and," aggrievedly, "I really think you might have told _me_," -and here she was obliged to pause for breath. - -Helen stared at Mrs. Creery; never had she seen her so excited, was she -going out of her mind, and about a piano? - -"A piano, Mrs. Creery?—what piano?" - -"A large square." - -"And you say that Mr. Quentin is sending it; but it is certainly not -coming _here_." - -"But it _is_. I saw a note addressed to you in the butler's hand." - -"Well, it shall go back at once; it is some mistake. I don't know what -papa would say!" - -"Your father!" scornfully, "as if _he_ would meddle, and as if your -wishes are not his law; besides, he knows it would be an excellent -match!" - -"Mrs. Creery," interrupted Helen, becoming scarlet, "please don't say -such things; it's no question of—of—what you hint, but of this piano. -What does it mean?" - -"It's the thin end of the wedge, _that's_ what it means." - -"It shall go back!" - -"Well, here it comes now at any rate," said the elder lady -triumphantly, as the chanting, thin-legged bearers came staggering -along under the heavy piece of furniture, with its wadded red cover; -and a big, bearded butler presented a note with a profound salaam. - -"Wait!" cried Helen, making an imperative gesture, tearing the envelope -open. "Don't bring it up yet." - -"What's all this?" inquired her father, appearing upon the scene at -this juncture. - -"A piano for your daughter from Mr. Quentin," volunteered Mrs. Creery -with infinite gusto. - -"Here, papa," handing him the note, "what am I to say?" - -"You will have to keep it for the present, I suppose," he answered -rather reluctantly, as he glanced over the missive; "you will have one -of your own soon." - -Mr. Quentin's note ran as follows:— - - "DEAR MISS DENIS,—Please do not be alarmed at the size of the - accompanying package, nor angry with me for my temerity in sending - it; the piano is going to pieces over here, with no one to play on - or look after it, and the hot winds on Aberdeen are ruination to an - instrument. You will be conferring a great favour on me, if you will - give it room, and honour me by making use of it, until the arrival of - your own. I will crave permission to bring over _a few_ songs, and we - might have a little practice occasionally. If possible, I shall come - across this afternoon. - - "Yours very sincerely, - - "JAMES QUENTIN." - -Of course, when the matter was put in the light of a favour to be -conferred, there was nothing for it but to allow the instrument to be -brought in, and lodged in the drawing-room. - -Helen received the open note somewhat mechanically from her father, -and will it be believed, that Mrs. Creery actually held out her hand -for the missive—just as if it were quite a matter of course, that she -should peruse it also? - -Peruse it she did, and so slowly, that one would imagine that she was -committing it to memory; then she folded it up and returned it to -Helen, saying rather tartly, "So you _are_ going to keep it, after all?" - -"Yes! I suppose so." - -"It's only an excuse, of course. You will have him here singing, day -and night, mark my words! However, I must allow that he has a sweet -tenor, and I shall often drop in for an hour," with which dire threat, -Mrs. Creery took her departure, and hastened away to spread the last -piece of news, viz., "that it was all _quite_ settled between Helen -Denis and Mr. Quentin; he had sent her over his piano, and written such -a sweet note!" - -To Miss Caggett this intelligence was a painful shock; she never -believed half of what Mrs. Creery said, but the arrival of the piano -had been witnessed. What wrath and anguish filled her mind, as she -thought of swains she had snubbed, and chances she had thrown away, for -that agreeable shadow, that fickle, faithless, heartless, handsome Jim -Quentin! But Lizzie was not easily suppressed; in some respects she was -as dauntless as the Bruce! - -She put on her best hat, and went up and listened to some solos and -duets that very same afternoon; and Mr. Quentin, whose patience was -almost threadbare, remarked to her very significantly,— - -"I like duets, Miss Caggett, as well as any one, but I don't much care -for trios; they are never so harmonious. I'm sure you agree with me." - -Lizzie turned pale. She understood, though Helen did not—indeed, _she_ -was exceedingly glad of Miss Caggett's society on these occasions; it -took the too personal edge off her visitor's remarks, and acted as a -wet blanket to his compliments. She (Helen) was not quite sure whether -he was in jest or earnest at times, but she sincerely _hoped_ that it -was the former. Strange as it may appear, she was utterly indifferent -to the almost invincible Jim Quentin. Why, she could not have told. She -knew that he was handsome, agreeable, and showed a flattering penchant -for her society. More than this, he had informed her, hundreds of times -(indirectly), that he admired her beyond words. And yet, and yet—— - -Miss Caggett was firmly resolved to punish her recreant lover, and to -humble him in the eyes of his new Dulcinea; so she smiled, and showed -all her teeth, and put her head on one side, and tried to look playful, -and said,— - -"Mr. Quentin, you are a _naughty_ man! What will Mr. Baines say when he -hears you have sent his new Collard and Collard travelling about the -settlement?" - -Mr. Baines was the gentleman for whom Mr. Quentin was acting. - -"_He_ say?" colouring. "What is it to him?" - -"Only his property," laughing rather boisterously. - -Helen felt extremely uncomfortable. There was an undercurrent of -hostility in Miss Caggett's laugh, that now struck her for the first -time. - -Mr. Quentin was not easily cowed, and never had any hesitation about -telling what Mark Twain calls a "stretcher," and answered quite -promptly,— - -"I bought it from Baines; he was hard up. So you are not as wise as you -imagined, Miss Caggett." - -Miss Caggett did not believe a word of this. Men who come to "act" -for six months, and have the use of a furnished house as a matter of -course, are not likely to purchase the piano—especially when they -can't _play_. But what was the use of speaking out her mind? For once -she was prudent, and held her peace; however, she cast a glance at Mr. -Quentin that said volumes, and presently she got up and went away; and, -when she had departed, Mr. Quentin exclaimed,— - -"How I wish that odious young woman—or middle-aged woman—would -not favour us with so much of her society; her presence has a most -irritating effect on my nerves." - -"I thought you and she were great friends," said Helen calmly. "I am -sure she told me that, at one time, you were with them every day, and -dined, and boated, and sang duets with her." - -"I suppose I was three times in their house—I don't know what she -will say next! However," anxious to turn to another subject, "do not -let us waste our time, or rather _my_ precious time over here, on such -an insignificant subject. Will you try over the accompaniment of the -Wanderer?" - -Mr. Quentin found himself so much out of practice that he went across -to Ross for an hour's vocal exercise about four times a week. Latterly -Mr. Lisle had listened with a gleam of mockery in his eye, as his -companion made excuses for these frequent visits, and one day Mr. -Quentin up and spake boldly,— - -"You are right to laugh at my talk about books and music and new songs, -when I say that they are the errands that take me over so often—of -course, it's the girl herself." - -"Oh, of course," sarcastically. - -"I tell you what it is, Lisle—I'm really serious this time; and the -queer part of it is, that it's her cool airs and sharp little speeches -that have carried the citadel." - -"What citadel?" raising his eyes, and searching the other's face. - -"My heart, to be sure!" - -"Pooh! your heart! Why that has been taken as often as there are days -in the year." - -"Merely a temporary occupation, my dear sir, but this time it's a -complete surrender. 'Pon my word, if she had any money, I'd marry her -to-morrow!" - -In answer to this remark, Mr. Lisle blew a cloud of smoke into the air, -and calmly ejaculated the word,— - -"Bosh!" - -"I never knew such a fellow as you are," cried Apollo indignantly. "You -have no appreciation of sentiment; you are as tough and matter-of-fact -as an old boot! All you care for are rough field sports, such as a long -day's shooting, hunting, or fishing, and then to come home to your -dinner, and sleep like a dog." - -"I only wish I _could_ sleep like a dog," rejoined the other with a -laugh. "What with the gun and bugles, and those confounded peacocks, -there is no such thing as getting a wink of sleep after four o'clock." - -"Now," continued Mr. Quentin querulously, "I hate your style of life. -You don't care what clothes you wear, you tramp the bush and over hill -and dale with a gun on your shoulder, on the off chance of a wild pig, -or a paltry brace of snipe! Or you grill by the hour in a boat, fishing -for sharks and sword-fish. Now give me instead——" - -"Yes, I know exactly what I'm to give you instead; the refining charms -of ladies' society, vocal duets and afternoon tea. Far, far pleasanter, -is it not, to sit in a cool, shady verandah, whispering soft nothings -to a pretty girl—I believe you said she _was_ pretty—than to be -out in a boat blistering in the sun, or tramping the woods, gun on -shoulder, with a good average chance of being winged oneself by an -Andamanese arrow? But let me tell you, James Quentin, that your -amusement is in reality the most dangerous of the two, and, if Dr. -Parks is to be believed, you have already burnt your fingers badly." - -"Hang Dr. Parks! I don't want to hear about him, or any one else, -except Helen Denis." - -"Helen Denis! And does she not wish to hear about any one but James -Quentin?" - -Mr. Quentin smiled a seraphic smile that inferred much; his companion -was not surprised. Quentin was exactly the sort of fellow to please -a young lady's fancy; naturally he would seem to her the very beau -ideal of a hero, with his low voice, heavenly blue eyes, and handsome -face; but then she was not aware that he did not stand the test of -close intimacy. _She_ had never heard him cursing his chokra or his -creditors—she never saw him in ragged moral deshabille! - -"Of course she does not know that this is by no means your first tender -effort at gallantry?—However, that is of no moment, Miss Caggett will -undeceive her," tranquilly remarked his companion. - -"What a beastly ironical fellow you are, Lisle! First you rake up old -Parks, and then Lizzie Caggett. I wish she were in a sack at the bottom -of Ross harbour!" blustered Mr. Quentin. - -"Because she represents a kind of conscience in her own person? Take -care that Miss Denis does not do the same some day." - -"No fear," stoutly. "She is now a mere child in many ways, full of -delight with everything about her, and with no more idea of flirting -than——" pausing. - -"I have," suggested his listener, innocently. - -"I would be sorry to name her in the same breath with you; and that -reminds me, that more than once she has asked me questions about Mr. -Lisle." - -"Oh, of course, they all do _that_!" - -"She has heard of you." - -"From my good, kind friend, Mrs. Creery, I'll bet a fiver, and I'll bet -another that she has painted me as black as an Andamanese,—and the -devil himself would not be blacker." - -"Well, come over with me to-morrow, and let Miss D. see that you are -not as bad as you are painted." - -"What would be the use? If she is all you _say_, I might fall in love -with her also! and that would be a very uncomfortable state of affairs." - -Mr. Quentin looked at him for a second with a cool stare, and then -burst out laughing. - -"Well, upon my word! you are the queerest fellow I ever met, and that's -saying a good deal; you can never be in earnest for five minutes. Now -look here, I want to talk to you seriously about my money affairs.—You -see my governor is an old man, and when he is laid in the family vault, -I'll have a decent little competence, but until _then_ I cannot keep -myself, much less a wife. I'm certain he won't give me a halfpenny more -allowance than I have already. I've an uncontrollable knack of spending -coin, and running into debt; but with the family acres, I think I might -manage to rub along pretty well." - -"So you might," agreed his listener. - -"But then the governor may live till he is a hundred." - -"So he may," again admitted the other gentleman. - -"For goodness' sake, Lisle, don't sit there with your eyes half shut, -driving me mad with your 'so you might' and 'so he may.' Make a -suggestion." - -"My dear sir, I cannot think of any to offer. If you were an Earth -Indian, you would be all right; you know they tie up their aged as bait -for wild beasts. Being a mere Englishman——" - -Mr. Lisle never finished what he was about to say; for his companion -sprang to his feet, towered above him, glared at him for a second, -opened his mouth and endeavoured to speak,—but failed; and then flung -out of the apartment in a terrible passion. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII. - -"I WAS HIS DEAREST LIZZIE!" - - "Alas! for pleasure on the sea, - And sorrow on the shore." - - _Hood._ - - -MRS. HOME'S entertainments to her friends generally took the form of a -picnic or gipsy tea, partly, we suspect, because these outings were in -great favour with Tom and Billy, and partly because she had a knack of -making these "camp affairs," as Mrs. Creery contemptuously dubbed them, -go off to every one's satisfaction. She had now issued invitations -for a tea at North Bay, where her guests were to ramble about, and -stroll on the beach, or botanize in the jungle; and two large boats -left the pier carrying the company, which comprised the host, hostess, -and family, Col. and Miss Denis, Miss Caggett, Mr. Latimer, Dr. Parks, -Dr. Malone, the Grahams from Chatham, and the Greens from Viper. Mr. -Quentin did not patronize these rustic _réunions_, and he was rather -annoyed to find that the Denises were bent on going, and leant over -the pier as they were rowed away, looking unutterable reproaches at -Helen—looks not lost on Miss Caggett, who was sitting beside her. It -was an oppressive afternoon; even at four o'clock the sky was molten -and the sea like oil, and Mr. Quentin shouted after the pleasure -party,— - -"I would not be a bit surprised if you people were in for a storm -coming back—better not stay late." - -"Storm! what nonsense! Why, the water is like glass!" exclaimed Mrs. -Home. "He merely says that because he is not coming himself—though I -asked him, and told him he might bring Mr. Lisle, for I really do not -see why he should be debarred from everything." - -"If he is debarred, it's his own fault," rejoined Lizzie Caggett, -accepting the challenge in the absence of Mrs. Creery in the other -boat. "If he would only be open about himself, no one would mind his -poverty." - -Mrs. Home looked sweetly incredulous, and Miss Caggett continued,— - -"At any rate the chances are that he would not come if he was asked. I -don't suppose he has any decent clothes, and he is more in his element -in the bush, or out in that white boat of Mr. Quentin's, sailing among -the islands; he half lives on the water, but," with a peculiar laugh, -"there is no fear of his being drowned!" - -Miss Lizzie was merciless to this mysterious pauper, chiefly because -she had an idea that he had talked his host out of certain matrimonial -designs that were very near to her heart. Jim Quentin's visits had -been less frequent, ever since he had given lodging to this odious -adventurer! - -Now Mrs. Home considered Mr. Lisle inoffensive and gentlemanly-looking, -and quite entitled to keep his affairs to himself if he chose, and -she took up the cudgels at once, and the argument was waxing hot, -when, luckily, some one commenced to sing, and politeness enforced -silence. It was a long row to North Bay, fully eight miles, and it was -past five o'clock when the party landed, and began to walk about and -stretch their rather cramped legs, and to stroll along the beach with -a careless eye to shells.—But this was not a _bonâ fide_ shelling -trip.—Presently, in answer to a whistle, with various degrees of -alacrity they flocked round Mrs. Home's well-spread table-cloth, which -was laid out on the moss under a big Pedouk tree, and in a position, -that commanded a fine view of the open sea. Here every one ate and -drank, and were merry; and afterwards they sang songs and gave riddles -and exchanged stories, well-known or otherwise, and then by degrees -they scattered once more, and went up into the woods close by, in -couples or in small parties, and commenced (the ladies especially) to -tear down orchids that would be priceless in grey-skyed England; to -fill their hands and their baskets with enormous bunches of Eucharis -lilies that carpeted the jungle. Helen was somewhat surprised to find -herself alone with Lizzie Caggett, but this was a mere passing thought, -her whole attention was given to the flowers; she felt quite bewildered -among such an _embarras de richesse_, and she paused every now and then -to exclaim, and to gather handfuls. She was also in ecstasies at the -love-birds, honey-suckers, blue-jays and golden orioles that flew "with -a shocking tameness" across their path. - -Miss Caggett was accustomed to these sights; her enthusiasm—if she -had any—she kept bottled up for the benefit of a male companion, and -did not trouble herself to respond to Helen's raptures; she had dogged -her, and purposely kept off Dr. Malone, and singled her out as her own -special associate, in order that she, as she said to herself, "might -have it out with her here in the jungle," where she could be as shrill -as she pleased,—yea, as one of the island peacocks! where she could -give reins to her wrath, and no one but her unsuspicious rival would be -any the wiser!—Now on Ross the very walls had ears. - -The two girls wandered along, one empty-handed, and the other laden -with spoils, till they came to an opening in the forest, where there -was a very beautiful shallow pool, apparently a spring. It was an -unusual sight, and Lizzie halted, and looked down into it, and beheld -the reflection of her own figure, and of her, at present, very cross, -discontented little face as seen in a mirror set in a lovely frame of -ferns, and mossy stones, and graceful grasses. - -As she pondered over her own appearance, and felt an agonizing thrill, -at the patent fact that she was now beginning to look _old_! a bright -young face came into view over her shoulder—a bright young face that -she hated from the bottom of her heart! No wonder she was a prey to -envy, as she gazed at Helen's reflection; never had she looked better, -than in that soft white gown, with a wreath of Eucharis lilies -twined round her sailor hat. Lizzie stared, and noted every item of -that pretty vision, and felt a conviction of her own powerlessness -to crush the horrible truth, that one of those two faces was lovely, -and smiling, and young, and that the other was pinched, ill-tempered, -and _passée_—and that other her own! Her day was on the wane, the -summer of her life—oh, that it would come again! she would sell her -soul to recall it!—was gone. And in Helen Denis's case, she had all -her golden youth before her. These bitter thoughts were too much for -her self-control, her face worked convulsively, the corners of her -mouth went down, and all of a sudden she burst into tears! Helen was -dismayed; she led her gently to a fallen log of ebony, and implored of -her to tell her if she was ill, or what was the matter? - -The tears were but a summer shower, and quickly spent, and Miss Caggett -came to herself, dried her eyes, and said that it was merely a slight -nervous seizure, the result of a racking headache, and meant nothing. -"But," she added, "I'm tired, and we may as well rest here awhile, -there is no hurry." - -"Very well," agreed Helen, "I want to settle these flowers, they are in -a most dreadful state," proceeding to arrange her much-crowded basket. - -"Then, whilst you arrange your flowers, dear, I will tell you a story," -said Lizzie, now completely composed. - -"Oh, do! how nice of you! I like stories, and this"—looking round—"is -the very place for one. A ghost story?" - -"But mine is going to be a love-tale," said Miss Caggett briefly. - -"I don't care for them so much," rejoined Helen, sorting out orchids as -she spoke. "However, anything _you_ like." - -"Once upon a time there was a girl, and she lived in the East Indies -with her mother; her name was Lizzie Caggett," she commenced. Helen, -who was kneeling at the log, using it as a table for her flowers, -looked up as if she did not believe her ears. "Her name, as I tell you, -was Lizzie Caggett. She was not a great beauty like _some_ people, -but she was not bad-looking. A young man came to Port Blair, paid her -marked attention, fell in love with her, and she with him; he gave her -songs and presents, he wrote her heaps of letters, he told her that he -could not _live_ without her. His name was James Quentin!" She paused, -and Helen got up slowly from her knees and stood in front of her—her -heart was beating rather fast, and her colour was considerably brighter -than usual. "A girl arrived at Port Blair named Helen Denis, and he, -man-like, paid her attention at first because she was _new_,—he half -lives at her house, he is always at her side, and" (viciously) "he has -made her the talk of the whole place. He," also rising and suddenly -dropping the narrative form for plainer speaking, "is a hypocrite, he -told you a _lie_ about that piano!—it belongs to Mr. Baines—he has -pretended to you that he scarcely knew _me_. Scarcely ever was out -of our house, is nearer the truth! One thing he can't deny, and that -is his own hand-writing. Look here," dragging out a thick packet of -letters tied with blue ribbon, "you can read them if you like. You -won't!" in answer to a scornful gesture. "Then there," tossing them -violently on the ground, where they fell with a heavy thud, and the -ribbon coming undone, lay scattered about like a pack of cards. - -Miss Caggett after this outbreak paused, and folded her arms akimbo, -but her eyes were gleaming, and her lips working convulsively. - -Helen was thunderstruck, never had it dawned upon her till now, that -she had come and seen, and conquered, this furious lady's lover; the -sudden announcement gave her a shock and for some seconds she was -speechless. - -"There," proceeded Miss Caggett, pointing to a letter at her feet, -"three months ago I was his dearest Lizzie, and now you are his dearest -Helen," and she laughed like a hyena. - -"You are altogether mistaken, and quite wrong," cried her companion, -speaking at last; "I am nothing to him but an ordinary acquaintance, -and I don't think you should repeat these terrible things about him to -me! You can't care very _much_ for him, or you would not say that he -is a hypocrite and does not speak the truth. As to his making me the -talk of the place, I am quite distressed to hear that Port Blair is so -hard up for a topic." Helen was very angry, and her face was an open -book, in which every emotion that swayed her was eloquently expressed. -Mr. Quentin was utterly indifferent to her, and this fact gave her -a considerable advantage over Miss Caggett. Besides being angry she -was disgusted, and looked down upon her opponent with a glance of -unmistakable scorn. - -"Of course you will _tell_ him all I have said," exclaimed Lizzie, with -a hysterical smile. - -"Oh, of course," ironically. - -Miss Caggett was filled with a horrible fear that she had overshot her -mark (which had been merely to blacken Mr. Quentin to Helen, to arouse -her ire, and take advantage of the ensuing quarrel and coolness, and -once more ingratiate herself with her late adorer). But who would have -expected Miss Denis to be supremely ironical and scornful, and to have -taken the news in this very strange way, for Lizzie believed that no -girl living could be indifferent to James Quentin? Instead of tearing -her hair and weeping and denouncing him, she was quite unmoved. She had -even spurned his letters! hateful, cold-blooded thing! - -"Shall you tell him all I have said about him?" she reiterated -defiantly. - -"Your suggestion is of course prompted by what you would do _yourself_ -under similar circumstances," returned her companion in a cutting tone. - -"Do you pretend that you don't _like_ him?" demanded Miss Caggett; -"that you never told me you thought him handsome? Do you pretend that -you are not in love with him and have lured him away from _me_?" - -"_I_ pretend nothing; I do not even pretend to be his friend before -his face, and then abuse him unmercifully behind his back! And now," -pointing with the tip of her shoe, "there are your letters. I advise -you not to leave them here for the amusement of some picnic party. And -I _request_ that you will never speak to me in such a way again, nor -mention the name of your friend Mr. Quentin." - -So saying, Helen picked up her basket, turned her back on Lizzie, and -walked off into the jungle in a rather stately fashion, never once -looking back at the little figure on the log. If she had done so, she -would have seen that little figure shaking a tiny menacing fist in her -direction; but ignorance was bliss, and she rambled on mechanically, -her mind not a little disturbed by the recent "scene." Lizzie Caggett -was _not_ a nice girl—not a lady—and as to Mr. Quentin, she had -never quite trusted his dreamy blue eyes. Now she came to ponder -over the subject, his stories were often a bad fit—one tale did not -exactly match another—he forgot what he had said previously, and -although he had angrily disowned Miss Caggett, yet she had noticed one -mezzo soprano song among his music, on which was scribbled in pencil, -"Lizzie, with J.'s love." Deeply occupied in unravelling various new -ideas, the young lady strayed further and further into the wood, -occasionally stopping to cull some too tempting flower or fern—and -pondering as she plucked. She was extremely reluctant to go back to the -company and to face Miss Caggett after their late conversation, but -a sudden cessation of birds' notes, a duskiness, and a little chill -wind, warned her that it was really time to retrace her steps. She -had come further than she imagined, and it was fully half an hour ere -she had extricated herself from among the trees and once more gained -the open space looking down upon the shore. But what was this? To -her astonishment the beach was deserted. There was no sign of living -creature to be seen (save the dying embers of the gipsy fire), and, did -her eyes deceive her, or did she really behold two heavily laden boats -steadily rowing back to Ross? Indeed, one was already a mere speck on -the water, and she had been left behind! At first she could not realize -her position; she, the chief guest—in whose honour the party had been -given—she forgotten and abandoned to pass the night on that terrible, -desolate mainland alone! She ran to a rock jutting out far into the -water and waved her parasol, and screamed, and called, but the boats -were far beyond earshot, and the awnings were up. - -She stood looking after them like a modern Dido, with strange, fixed, -despairing eyes, then turned and gazed behind her at the thick, black, -and now forbidding-looking forest, that loomed all round her, and -encompassed the shore. She sat down on the rock, locked her arms round -her knees, and watched the two heartless boats till they were quite -out of sight. This operation lasted for some time, and when there was -nothing further to be seen in the direction of Ross, she turned her -face towards the open sea, and beheld, to her horror, a large canoe -coming rapidly in her direction! It was still at some distance, but she -knew that the build of the boat was not European, nor did Europeans go -out boating in _tall hats_. She did not wait for a closer inspection; -she fled—fled for dear life—right up into the much-dreaded forest, -and dashed among the underwood like a mad creature; in a certain -thick covert she threw herself down, and there she lay panting like a -hunted hare. From her hiding-place, she could see the savages; they -paddled close into the shore, attracted by the smoke of the fire that -had boiled Mrs. Home's mild domestic kettle! They came in a big red -war canoe, and were about fifty in number; one or two remained in the -canoe, the rest sprang over the side, and waded to land—followed by a -whole legion of dogs. They swarmed round the fire, and found but little -to repay their visit, beyond a box of matches, which was evidently a -great prize. There were several monster fish caught by Mrs. Creery's -boatmen,—and left behind as worthless—these they tore to pieces, and -devoured raw. A tin of Swiss milk and half a loaf of bread were also -discovered and shared. Whilst they sat round the embers in a circle, -and greedily discussed these rarities and the fish, Helen, with every -nerve in her body throbbing, and her heart nearly bounding out of -her bosom, was presented by her own vivid memory with that scene in -Robinson Crusoe, where he sees the savages sitting round a fire, and -feasting on their human victims! Supposing they were to discover her, -and kill her, and eat her? At this moment she nearly shrieked aloud, -for a large red dog, a kind of pariah (who, unknown to her, had been -sniffing among the underwood), now suddenly thrust up his head close -to hers, and gazed at her in amazement for some seconds; luckily for -Helen, instead of breaking at once into a loud "bay," and triumphantly -announcing his "find," he was evidently one of the barrack curs whom -the General had colonized; he had seen a European before,—and probably -understood English! At first, when she whispered in a faltering voice, -"Oh, Toby, Toby, like a dear, good dog, go away, and don't betray me," -he took no notice, but merely stood staring with his round yellow eyes. -However, when emboldened by desperation, she said, "Hoosh! be off!" and -made a movement as though to pick up a stone—he fled! - -But what if a less educated animal were to discover her? If he did, -she was lost. She lay in her hiding-place scarcely daring to breathe, -the very sound of her own heart seemed appalling; indeed, it stood -quite still for some seconds, when—the fish being despatched—the -aborigines stood up and sauntered back to their canoe, and several -of them pointing at the jungle, seemingly suggested a ramble in that -direction! But these enterprising spirits had no weight, and Helen, -although fainting with terror, noticed that a fat old man, in a huge -cocked hat (evidently a person of much authority), waved his hands with -decision towards the horizon; and making gestures at the big bank of -clouds that were gathering there, peremptorily collected all his party, -who immediately swarmed out into the canoe, followed by their pack of -dogs, and paddled away as swiftly and as suddenly as they had come—and -Helen breathed a deep sigh of relief, when she was once more left upon -the mainland, entirely alone! - - - - -CHAPTER IX. - -A DAMSEL IN DISTRESS. - - "The storm is up, and all is on the hazard." - - _Julius Caesar._ - - -MR. LISLE had been out boating far beyond North Bay; but a sombre -sultry afternoon, and the ominous silence that precedes a tropical -storm, had warned him to steer homewards. He had heard of the awful -tornadoes that occasionally churned these seas into white mountains, -that dashed wrecks around the islands; that the storm god in torrid -regions was a terrible sight when aroused, and that a sunny, sleepy -afternoon had been known to develop into a howling hurricane in less -than an hour. Moreover, that tragic tales of boats blown out to sea, or -capsized with all hands, were but too well known at Port Blair. - -The sky was now so inky black that it could scarcely look blacker, low -muttering thunder was heard from behind the clouds, and an occasional -red flash shot along the horizon. The breeze was rising steadily, and -a quick cool ripple was on the water. On the whole, Mr. Lisle said -to himself that there was every prospect of a very dirty night, and -the sooner that he was under the lee of Ross the better. Passing a -kind of cove in North Bay, he happened to notice a long white object -in the now gathering dusk: it seemed to be near the shore, and was -probably a blighted tree. Luckily, he looked again, and observed that -it moved. Could it be a human figure, at that hour?—quite impossible! -But although moments were precious, he resolved to give the thing, -whatever it was, a chance; and to take a nearer view and to accomplish -this, he was obliged to steer in closer to the land, which he did—to -his boatmen's unconcealed uneasiness. Vainly did they scowl, and point -expressively to the storm that was coming up so rapidly; he assured -them that this delay would be but momentary; a few vigorous strokes, -and they were sufficiently near to make out that the seemingly blighted -tree was the figure of a European woman, in a white dress! In two or -three seconds they had touched the beach, and Mr. Lisle sprang out of -the boat, waded through the water, and another instant brought him -to the side of a trembling, distracted girl, whom he had never seen -before, but who nevertheless accorded him a half-frenzied, though -silent welcome. - -Helen, after she had seen the last of the war canoe, had once more -ventured down to the shore. The dark thick tropical jungle seemed to -stifle her, and, for all she knew, might be swarming with wild beasts! -The solitude was something appalling, and the silence!—save for queer -outlandish sounds in the forest every now and then, which caused her -to tremble violently. Her position may not seem so very terrible to -some people,—who will say, "She knew she was sure to be fetched in the -morning;" but a night alone upon that savage coast, was enough to make -even a stout-hearted man feel nervous, much less a girl like Helen, and -by this time she was completely unhinged. As she sat staring into the -gloom, she suddenly made out a boat, positively a European boat, with -three people in it,—and for the first time her hopes rose. She waved -her arms frantically, and she ran up and down the beach like a demented -creature. She was seen, and they were coming. Oh, the relief of that -moment! For the first time during these dreadful hours, tears rolled -down her cheeks. - -The boat came in as close as it could, and a man jumped out of it, and -approached her rapidly. Stranger as she was, she rushed to him, seized -his arm, and tried vainly to speak, but her whole frame was shaken with -convulsive sobs. - -"What is it? What does it mean?" he asked, as she clung to him, like a -drowning person. - -"It's a—pleasure party," she stammered out. "I was gathering flowers, -and was left behind. Oh, take me with you! Take me home!" - -"Come on, then,"—an Englishman's usual formula; "I'll take you back to -Ross. But we must look sharp," speaking rather brusquely. What if this -tearful, frightened young lady were to go into hysterics, or to faint -in his arms? that would be a nice business! - -Without a single word, but with obedient alacrity, she followed him to -the edge of the sea,—and something told her that she was walking in -the wake of the notorious _Mr. Lisle_. - -"I'd better carry you through the surf," he said, turning at the -water's edge; and coolly putting his arm round her, he was just about -to lift her on the spot, but, with flaming cheeks, she thrust him -aside, saying, "Thanks, no; I'll manage it myself." - -"Oh, all right," he returned indifferently, "but I think you are -foolish! What's the good of two people getting wet, when _one_ will -do?" now wading out to the boat through surf, which took the young -lady up to her knees. He got in first, helped her in afterwards, and, -making a sign to the impatient boatmen to raise the sail, he said to -his dripping companion, "There is going to be a bit of a blow" (a mild -way of putting it), "but we shall have it with us, we shall be home in -no time," he added, in a tone of assumed cheerfulness. - -In a few seconds they were gliding along over the water, before a nice -stiff breeze, and Helen found time to collect her senses, and to relate -her adventures—at first in rather a broken, husky voice, but latterly -with more composure. - -And lest the reader should all this time be angrily blaming Colonel -Denis and Mrs. Home, I here beg to state that each believed Helen to -be in the other's boat—a thought for which they were indebted to Miss -Caggett. - -The rising wind and threatening sky made prudent Mrs. Home collect -her party, and start; being under the impression that Helen would -return with her father. When the people belonging to number two boat -were mustered, and inquiries were made for Miss Denis, Miss Caggett -assured them that she had long since departed with Mrs. Home, and had -been quite animated in declaring that "there was no mistake about the -matter, as she and Miss Denis had been walking in the woods together." -She also displayed quite a feverish eagerness to be off!—for reasons -which we can easily understand. (Miss Lizzie had picked up her -letters and pocketed them, and sauntered down to the beach, and there -had joined the company, and come to the conclusion that a night's -solitary reflection among the tall Gurgeon and Pedouk trees would do -her rival a world of good! "How easy," she said to herself, "to say -afterwards, that I must have made a mistake—every one is liable to -make mistakes!") Thus reassured, the picnic party took their places in -the second boat, and no search or calling acquainted Helen of their -departure; and consequently, she was left behind, thanks to Miss Lizzie -Caggett. - -The small white gig which had picked off the young lady, now flew -before the wind, and Helen's new acquaintance sat with the tiller-ropes -in his hands, and his gaze bent apprehensively on the south. - -"I suppose I may as well introduce myself," he said presently. "My name -is Lisle. Perhaps you have heard of me?" he added expressively—at -least to his listener, his words seemed to have an ironical, -significant tone! - -Helen muttered a faint affirmative. - -"And you, I think, must be Miss Denis?" - -"Yes." - -"And were you really afraid of the savages?" - -"I never was so much frightened in all my life, I thought I should have -_died_." - -"I see a good deal of them knocking about the islands. They are not -such bad fellows, and I doubt their cannibalism." - -"I should be sorry to trust them," returned Helen, shuddering. - -"You are cold, I see, and wet, of course, but that was your own fault. -Here," suddenly removing it, "you must take my coat," throwing it over -her knees, where it remained all the time, in spite of her anxious -disclaiming. After this there was a long gap in the conversation. - -Mr. Lisle undoubtedly possessed what the French call, "a talent for -silence." "How grave he looked!" thought Helen. How fast they were -going! How frightfully down on one side! The wind was getting louder -and louder, till it reached a kind of hoarse scream: the dusk had -suddenly given place to Egyptian gloom, and Helen felt sure (as she -sat with her hands tightly locked in her lap, and her heart beating -very quickly) that they were having more than a mere "blow" as they -tore through the water! All at once, the first splash of a cold, salt -wave dashed over the boat, and drenched her so unexpectedly that she -could not refrain from a stifled exclamation; but this was the only -time that she lost her self-control. She sat motionless as an image, -and neither moved nor spake, not even when a shrieking gust carried -her hat away, and whirled it into the outer darkness; and the storm -loosened her long hair, and flung it to the wind to play with. How -they flew up the water mountains, and were hurled down like a stone -into the corresponding valleys! If they were to be drowned, she hoped -that it might be soon; this present suspense was torture. All was so -black—an awful opaque blackness—the roar of the tempest the only -sound; it came in furious gusts, then died away, whilst wave after wave -swept over the boat; and now the low rumble of thunder burst suddenly -into one frightful peal, that seemed to shake the very sea itself: a -blinding flash lit up the gloom, for a moment it was as daylight. Helen -involuntarily turned her eyes towards her companion, and met his point -blank. In that second, their two souls seemed to recognize one another; -in his glance she read intrepidity, coolness and encouragement. She at -least was with a brave man, and might die in worse company! He, on his -side, noted the rigid figure of his passenger, her locked hands and -firmly-set lips; she was no longer the timid, shrinking creature he -had dragged on board the gig less than an hour previously; she was a -heroine, capable of looking death in the face, and Death's grim visage -was never closer to her than _now_. Another would have been shrieking -and clinging to him; but this girl was nerved to meet her fate alone, -and he honestly respected her fortitude. It was certainly just touch -and go, if they ever weathered Ross Point, but the boat was a stout -one, and the sails were new. The twinkling lights on the island now -came in view; how scornfully they seemed to mock these four people, who -were struggling for life and death in the surrounding howling darkness! - -Another awful plunge into the hollows, and a hissing of boiling waves, -and a feeling as of water closing all round them. It seemed to Helen as -if _this_ was the end—they had shipped a heavy sea, the boat reeled, -staggered, and made another effort—she was not going to founder just -yet. - -The stricken boatmen shouted hoarsely to one another, and baled in the -dark; Helen crept unconsciously closer to the steersman, and during a -lull in the blast, she said,— - -"You can swim, Mr. Lisle, of course, and if _you_ escape, will you -take a message from me to,"—with a sob—"poor papa?" - -"No, I won't," he answered roughly. - -"But I shall be drowned, I know," and she caught her breath at the -chilling thought. - -"If you are, I shall be drowned _too_, you may be sure of that. If I -am saved, you may rely upon it that you will be saved also. We will -sink or swim together. If she _does_ capsize, don't lose your head, and -don't cling to me, whatever you do; trust me, and I'll take care of -you; but I hope it's not going to come to that," he added; then, after -a long silence and another blinding sea, he exclaimed, "Thank God, we -are over the worst, and under the lea of Ross!" - - * * * * * - -It was still quite bad enough, but they were no longer exposed to the -full fury of the hurricane; in another ten minutes they were being -violently washed up and down against the soaking pier, in the presence -of a crowd of anxious faces, who were peering over, amidst the glare -of torches and general excitement. The first person to greet them was -Colonel Denis, looking like a man of seventy, and scarcely able to -articulate. - -"Oh, Helen," he cried, as he seized his tottering, dripping daughter, -"this has nearly killed me! Only an hour ago we missed you, and you -were sighted from the lookout just before dark, and I never believed -that any boat could live in that," pointing his hand at the black, -hissing sea. - -As Helen and her father stood thus together on the steps, she trying to -realize that she was safe, and he most thankfully doing the same—the -white boat showed signs of shoving off. - -"You are not going over to Aberdeen now!" shouted Colonel Denis, -descending, and making a futile grab at the gunwale. "Are you a madman?" - -"It's not so bad inside, between the islands," roared the other in -reply. "Good-night." - -"Papa, stop him! Mr. Lisle," shrieked Helen, "come back—come back, Mr. -Lisle." - -The idea of any one putting out again among those tumbling waves, -seemed to her nothing less than suicidal; but the white boat was -already gone,—lost almost instantaneously in the surrounding darkness. - -"It's not so risky between this and Aberdeen, Miss Denis," said Dr. -Malone; "and Lisle is a capital sailor. But what a grand fright you -have given us all, and what a terrible trip you must have had!" - -Miss Denis made no reply; she staggered up to the top of the steps and -stood upon the pier in the light of half-a-dozen torches—a strange -figure, in a dripping dress, with her long hair covering her as a kind -of mantle, and hanging far below her waist in thick dark masses. - -"Take her home, and put her to bed at once," said Dr. Malone, "and -give her a warm drink, and don't let any one worry her with questions" -(doubtless he was thinking of Mrs. Creery); "to-morrow morning I will -call, and she will be all right, and will tell us how it happened that -she let us go off without her." - -But how that came to pass was never clearly explained up to the present -day; people had their suspicions, but suspicions go for very little. - -Miss Denis carried out Dr. Malone's instructions to the letter. She -went home and went to bed and fell sound asleep. One thing she did -which he had not prescribed,— - -She dreamt of Mr. Lisle! - - - - -CHAPTER X. - -MR. LISLE FORGETS HIS DINNER. - - "A little fire is quickly trodden out, - Which, being suffered, rivers cannot quench." - - _Henry VI._ - - -MISS DENIS was none the worse for her adventure the next morning, and -was called upon to give a full, true, and particular account of herself -to Mrs. Creery and Mrs. Home, also Mrs. Graham and Mrs. Green (who -had prudently stayed all night on Ross). No one could imagine how the -mistake had occurred, and all these ladies talked volubly together on -the subject, and it afforded the island a nine days' wonder, though -that was not saying much! Mrs. Creery was certainly most thankful that -Helen (she now called her by her Christian name) had been brought back -in safety, but she was by no means as well pleased at the means to -which they owed her restoration. - -"Of course, my dear Helen, you need not notice him," she said, -_apropos_ of Mr. Lisle; "just let your father thank him, or send a -message by Mr. Quentin; that will be ample!" - -Mr. Lisle having made Aberdeen with some difficulty, had toiled up -hill, closely followed by the shivering boatmen, in quest of glasses -of rum. He was cold, and stiff, and exhausted; both mind and body had -been strung to their utmost tension for the last three hours, and he -sank into a Bombay chair in the verandah, and threw off his soaking -hat with a sense of thankfulness and relief. There he remained for a -long time in his wet clothes, staring out on the black, ragged-looking -clouds, through which a very watery moon was vainly trying to assert -herself. Mr. Quentin was dining elsewhere, and Mr. Lisle kept dinner -waiting till it was his good pleasure to partake of that meal. -(Eastern cooks are accustomed to a meal being put back or forward an -hour or so according to their masters' whims. These sudden orders -never ruffle their composure, whilst in England such proceedings -would cause domestic revolutions.) For more than an hour Mr. Lisle -lay back in the comfortable chair which he had first occupied as a -mere momentary resting-place; evidently he had something out of the -common to occupy his thoughts. How long was it since he had spoken to -a lady? (Apparently Mrs. Creery went for nought.) His mind reviewed -but cursorily his morning's sport, dwelt a short time on the various -incidents of that terrible sail, and rested finally for a considerable -period on the contemplation of his lady passenger; he could see her -before his mental vision quite distinctly _now_, as she stood on the -pier steps, with her soaking, clinging dress, her streaming hair and -colourless face, on which the torches threw a blinding light; see her -stretching out her hands, and calling after him in a tone of agonized -appeal,— - -"Mr. Lisle, come back! Come back, Mr. Lisle!" - -It was a curious fact, he said to himself with a rather cynical grin, -that this was positively the very first invitation he had ever received -to Ross; and the circumstance seemed to amuse him not a little. - -After a while he began to think that he was rather a fool, sitting -there mooning in his wet clothes, and he rose and stretched himself and -went into the house, and having changed his garments, sat down to his -solitary meal. He and Jim Quentin met at breakfast as usual; the latter -was generally too much engrossed with his own proceedings to take any -vivid interest in his companion's pursuits—to do as little work as -possible, to get as much novel-reading, cigarette-smoking, and physical -and mental ease, was the bent of his mind, and his thoughts were solely -centred in himself and his own arrangements. - -He never troubled his head about Lisle's "manias;" fishing, and -boating, and shooting were all bores to him, involving far too much -bodily exertion and discomfort. He took all his partner's adventures -for granted, and never expected that these were of a more thrilling -description than the capture of a big shark or the slaughter of a wild -hog. - -"What a gale that was last night!" he said, as he languidly helped -himself to devilled kidneys. "By George! the picnic party must have -found it pretty lively coming back. It blew a hurricane! But I suppose -they were in before that?" - -"They were," assented Mr. Lisle—and whatever else he was going to -add was interrupted by the appearance of one of the boatmen in his -blue cotton suit, salaaming profoundly at the foot of the verandah -steps. He had something in his hand. What? It was the miserable wreck -of a lady's smart, cream-coloured parasol! A jaunty article, that had -tempted Helen's fancy in a London shop window, and was now a mere limp -rag, cockled and shrunken with sea-water—having been thrown into the -bottom of the boat and there forgotten. - -"Halloa!" exclaimed Mr. Quentin. "What is that?" - -"Miss Denis's parasol, which was left in the gig. I brought her back -from North Bay last night," replied his companion, with as much -composure as if it were a part of his daily programme. - -The other made no immediate reply, but turning half round in his chair, -surveyed him steadily for some seconds. - -"_You_ brought her back?" he repeated incredulously. "And why, in the -name of all that's extraordinary?" - -"For the very excellent reason that she wished to be my passenger," -returned Mr. Lisle, coolly. - -"I hate riddles"—irritably. "What the deuce do you mean?" - -"I mean that Miss Denis was left behind by her party owing to some very -queer mistake, that I happened to be sailing by, like Canute the king, -and that she hailed the boat, and we took her off." - -"Quite romantic, upon my word"—with a rather forced laugh. "Well," -after a pause, "now that you have seen her, what do you think of her?" - -"How can I tell you? It was as dark as pitch; I only had a glimpse of -her now and then by lightning." - -"Yes; and that glimpse?" - -"Showed me that she had heaps of hair. She did not scream or make a -fuss, but kept quiet, for which I was really grateful." - -"And did you have any talk?" - -"Talk! My good sir, are you aware that we were out in that hurricane -between seven and eight o'clock last night, and that it was by God's -mercy we escaped with our lives?" - -"I dare say you would like to improve the acquaintance now you have -seen her—eh? Come, tell the truth." - -Mr. Lisle made no reply; this question had hit the goal—he certainly -_did_ feel a curious and unusual interest in this girl. All the same, -he made up his mind that this novel sensation would wear off within the -next twenty-four hours, and whether or no, he did not mean to yield to -it. - -Mr. Quentin crossed to Ross alone, somewhat to his own surprise; and -Helen, as she listened to his condolences, felt rather an odd little -twinge of disappointment, for she had half expected that for once he -would have been accompanied by his mysterious companion. To-day her -smiles were not as responsive, nor her laughter as ready as usual. -Her keen-witted visitor did not fail to notice this,—also a curious -abstraction in her manner. She was partly thinking of Mr. Lisle (with -an interest that surprised herself), and partly recalling to her mental -eye that little pink figure seated on the log, with a face convulsed -with passion, and dozens of love-letters scattered round her on the -moss! - -About a week later Colonel Denis met Mr. Lisle in the Bazaar and -insisted on his accompanying him home, and being there and then -presented to his daughter. - -"She wants to thank you herself; only for you she believes that she -would have lost her wits; only for you she would have had to pass a -whole night on that coast alone." - -Vainly did his captive mutter "that it was nothing; that he was only -too glad to have had the opportunity," &c., Colonel Denis was not -to be denied, and he led him off, _nolens volens_, to make formal -acquaintance with the island beauty at last. - -Miss Denis was sitting on the steps of the bungalow feeding a tame -peacock, but as she saw her father approaching with a visitor in -tow, she stood up, rather shyly, to receive them. She looked quite -different to-day (naturally). Her dress was soft, cream-white muslin, -a heavy Indian silver belt encircled her slender waist, her hair was -bound round her head in thick plaits, her countenance was serene—and -marvellously pretty. It struck Mr. Lisle's artist eye that she and her -pet peacock would make a very effective picture, with that glimpse of -blue sea and palms as their background. - -Of course she had a conviction that this spare, sunburnt man following -her father was the redoubtable _bête-noire_, who, although she had been -two months in the settlement, she had never yet met with face to face, -save in the gloom on that eventful evening. - -After a little talk about the storm and the picnic, they adjourned -indoors and sat in the shady drawing-room, whilst Sawmy brought in -afternoon tea. - -"How do you like this part of the world, Miss Denis?" asked her -visitor. "No doubt you are tired of the question by this time?" - -"I like it extremely; so much that I believe I could live here all my -life." - -Mr. Lisle smiled incredulously and slightly raised his brows. - -"Yes," in reply to his expression. "Where could you find a more lovely -spot—a kind of earthly Paradise?" - -"And a land where it is always afternoon," quoted her companion; "but -you will probably get tired of it in six months, and be glad enough to -stretch your wings." - -"No, indeed"—indignantly—"why should I? I have everything I want -here, and every wish fulfilled." She paused, became exceedingly red, as -if she were afraid she had been too gushing to this stranger. - -"I am filled with amazement and respect, Miss Denis; you are the only -person I have ever come across who admitted that they were now, in the -actual present, absolutely contented, and had no unsatisfied cravings. -But perhaps yours is a contented mind?" - -"No, I have not been contented elsewhere; but here it is different; -here I have my home, and papa——" - -She hesitated, and her listener mentally added—"And Jim Quentin!" - -"And I think perpetually fine weather, and beautiful surroundings, and -liberty, go a long way towards making one feel as I do. Every morning -when I wake, I have an impression that something delightful is going to -happen during the day." - -"Jim's visit of course," thought her companion. A sure sign that she is -in love, but he merely said aloud,— - -"It's well you mentioned liberty, for I fancy that scenery and sunshine -go a short way with those beggars," pointing to a group of brown -convicts, who were now wending silently down the road. "Do you not find -everything very different out here to what it is at home?" - -"Yes; but I had no home, I was always at school. Papa and I have so few -belongings—but I am quite forgetting all this time that I have not -offered you a cup of tea." - -Mr. Lisle watched her as she busied herself among the spoons and -saucers, and thought what a nice child she was, and what a shame it -would be to let Jim Quentin break her heart! - -"You see a good deal of Quentin," he remarked rather suddenly; but -her colour did not rise as she handed him his tea, nor did the cup -rattle in the saucer at the mention of that potent name. She met Mr. -Lisle's keen interrogative glance with the utmost composure. How -different he seemed without his hat, and how strange it was that it had -never occurred to any one to mention that Mr. Lisle was handsome! The -circumstance came home to her quite unexpected, as she now noticed his -well-shaped head and profile; true his skin was tanned brown by the -sun, his hair was touched with grey upon the temples, but in her heart -she there and then discovered that he had a far more striking face than -irresistible "Apollo" Quentin. - -"I am taking this to papa," she said, rising; "he sits in the verandah, -you see." - -"Yes, I see"—receiving the cup from her hand and carrying it out to -his host who was absorbed in a blue document. (Mr. Quentin had trained -him to efface himself in this fashion, for to be quite frank, he could -not stand that gentleman's society, much less his songs and sentimental -speeches.) - -"I suppose," said Mr. Lisle, as he passed the piano—Helen's own -property,—"that that is Quentin's last new ditty," indicating a -piece on the music stand. "I know it's just in his line, 'Told in the -Twilight.'" - -"Yes." - -"I'm sure it gives him great pleasure coming over here, and listening -to your music?" - -"I believe he derives some enjoyment from his own singing also," she -replied, demurely,—remembering the hours that she had toiled over his -accompaniments. "Are you musical?" - -"In theory only, not in practice. I am very fond of listening to a -string band, or to good instrumental performers, but as far as I'm -concerned myself, I cannot play on a comb, much less a Jew's-harp! I -see"—glancing at some books—"that you read, Miss Denis. May I ask -where you get your literature?" - -"Some from the library at Calcutta,—some from Mr. Quentin." This -latter announcement was a shock. - -"Ah!—I daresay his contributions are more entertaining than -instructive! So you read French novels?" - -"Oh, no!"—becoming scarlet—"I have never read any except a few French -stories, Miss Twigg picked out. Mr. Quentin merely lends me books of -poetry and magazines, more solid reading I get elsewhere." - -"Why do you read solid books?" - -"Chiefly to discover my own deplorable ignorance, I live and unlearn," -and she laughed. - -"Really"—also smiling—"and how?" - -"Well, for instance, until last week I was under the impression that -America had been discovered by Christopher Columbus, in the year 1492." - -"I fancy that most people are still labouring under the same delusion." - -"But it is quite wrong"—shrugging her shoulders—"it was found by -Buddhist priests in the fourth century, at least so says a book that I -have just finished, and there does not seem to be the smallest doubt -upon the question in the author's mind." - -"Miss Denis," said her listener, gravely, "your reading is too deep -for me, and I shall be quite afraid of you. The next time I see you, -you will be telling me that it is all a mistake about the battle of -Waterloo, that there was no such person as Queen Elizabeth, and that -Ireland was first discovered by the Japanese." - -Helen laughed immoderately, and then said,— - -"Why Ireland of all places?" - -"I don't know, unless because it is generally the unexpected that -happens with regard to that country." - -"Have you ever been there?" - -"Yes, frequently; I've an uncle in the Emerald Isle, who has carried -on an ink feud for years with my father,—but is gracious enough to me." - -"And I've an aunt there, who is the very reverse, for she never answers -papa's letters!" - -"Then supposing we make an exchange of relatives?" suggested Mr. Lisle. - -Colonel Denis was quite astonished to hear so much animated -conversation and laughter in his neighbourhood, and could not see why -he should not have a share in whatever was going on; but shortly after -he made his appearance Mr. Lisle took his leave; and Helen was really -amazed, when she saw by the little clock that his visit had lasted -almost an hour! - -"A very gentlemanly, agreeable man, no matter _who_ he is," said her -father, after he had sped the parting guest; "eh, Nell?" - -"Yes, papa." - -"And _I_ don't believe with Mrs. Creery, that he is one of our -fellow-countrymen who are obliged to roam the world over,—owing to -their invincible ignorance of the number of kings which go to a pack of -cards," added Colonel Denis as he picked up a newspaper, and subsided -into an arm-chair. - - * * * * * - -Mr. Lisle imparted the history of his visit to his host that same -evening after dinner. - -"And what do you think of her now you have seen her in daylight?" asked -Mr. Jim, who seemed anxious to have his friend's verdict. - -"Oh, that she is a pretty girl, of course, unspoiled as yet, and -charmed with her surroundings, and immensely delighted at finding -herself grown up, and mistress of that bungalow,—which is her doll's -house so far." - -"And do you think she likes _me_?" - -"Yes; of course I did not put the delicate question point-blank as your -deputy, but I daresay she does; for her own sake I hope she won't get -any further than liking!" - -"You are frankness itself, my dear fellow, and _why_?" - -"Because she is much too good for you, and you know it! You have been -in love about fifty times already, and for pure lack of something to -do, are thinking of offering the shell of your heart to this pretty -penniless child. She would accept it—if she cared for you—_au grand -sérieux_, and give hers in return, for always; but you, once your -little _entr'acte_ was played out here—say in three months—would sail -away, leave her, and forget her! You have done it to dozens according -to your own confession;—why not again?" - -The expression of tolerant amusement on his hearer's face rapidly gave -way to indignation, and he said with much asperity,— - -"This is vastly fine! You are uncommonly eloquent on behalf of Miss -Helen's maiden affections; you beat old Parks in a common walk! One -would imagine that I was some giant Blunderbore who was going to eat -her! Or that——" and he paused, and blew a cloud of smoke into the air. - -"Or what?" asked the other quietly. - -"That you meant to enter the lists yourself, since you _will_ have it." - -Mr. Lisle picked a crumb off the cloth, and made no reply, and his -companion proceeded,— - -"But of course you know as well as I do myself, that such an idea for -_you_ would be all the same as if you went and hanged yourself out on -the big tree in Chatham!" - -To this Mr. Lisle said nothing, but smoked on for a long time in dead -silence. At last he got up, threw his napkin over the back of his -chair, and said, gravely,— - -"If you are really in earnest for once, and hope to win the girl, and -marry her,—well and good. I believe you will have all the luck on your -side; if on the other hand, you merely intend to seize such a rich -opportunity for amusing yourself, and playing your old game——" - -"What then?" demanded Jim with a lazy challenge in his eye. - -"You will see what then!" rejoined the other, standing up and looking -at him fixedly, with his hands grasping the back of his chair. He -remained in this attitude for fully a minute, and neither of them -spoke; then he turned abruptly, walked out into the back verandah, and -down the steps, and away in the direction of the sea-shore. - -Mr. Quentin took his cigar out of his mouth, leant his head on one -side, and listened intently to his fast receding footsteps. When their -final echo had died away, he resumed his cheroot with a careless shrug -of his shoulders. - -"Did Lisle mean to threaten him?" - -It certainly looked uncommonly like it. - - - - -CHAPTER XI. - -THE FINGER OF FATE! - - "Gigantic shapes and shadows gleam, - Portentous through the night." - - _Longfellow._ - - -FROM this time forward, Mr. Lisle occasionally accompanied his -companion to Ross, and listened to the band, and was even to be met -with at tennis parties, in brave defiance of Mrs. Creery's frowns -and Miss Caggett's snubs. Helen noticed that he was tabooed, and -lost no opportunity of speaking to him or smiling on him—but such -opportunities were rare. Mr. Quentin had a way, acquired by long -practice,—of elbowing away all intruders from the vicinity of those -whom he delighted to honour; and effectually introduced his own -large person between Helen and any other swains that might seek her -society;—in short, he monopolized her completely. Mr. Lisle had -entirely abandoned photography, shooting, and sailing, for the very -poor exchange of the _rôle_ of a dispassionate spectator. Why did he -come to Ross to see what he did not like? his friend's handsome face -bent over the beautiful Miss Denis, eliciting her smiles and merry -laughter. Naturally, like most lookers-on, he saw a good deal—the -envious outer circle of young men, and Miss Caggett, who had long ago -made a truce with Helen, but who loved her as little as of yore, and -was about as fond of her as any lady could be who beheld her rival -appropriating her own special property! Still, she figuratively folded -her enemy to her bosom, and smothered her feelings wonderfully,—but -Mr. Lisle fathomed them. Perhaps he had a fellow-feeling for her, who -knows? It appeared to him, that the citadel of Miss Denis's heart -was carried at last; and who could wonder, that an inexperienced -school-girl would long hold out against the artillery of Mr. Quentin's -attractions; attractions that had proved irresistible to so many -of her sex! No, he noticed that she coloured, and looked conscious -whenever he appeared, and was not that a sure symptom that the outer -fosse was taken? Little did he imagine, that the unfortunate young -lady felt exactly as if she were helplessly entangled in the web of a -huge spider, that she would have given worlds to rid herself from this -ever-hovering, ever-overshadowing presence,—that so effectually kept -any one she wished to speak to aloof and out of reach. Her natural good -nature, and politeness, prevented her from actually dismissing him, and -she had not the wit, or the experience to get rid of him otherwise. -She had indeed ventured on one or two timid hints, but with regard to -anything touching another person's wishes, Mr. Jim had no very keen -perceptions; and with respect to his own company being anything but -ever welcome, he would not have believed Miss Denis, even if she had -told him so in the plainest terms! Why should _she_ be different to the -rest of her sex? they all liked him! So Mr. Quentin kept his station by -her side, by his own wish, and by public concurrence. He immediately -joined her whenever she appeared, carried her bat, her shawl, or her -band programme, held her tea-cup, walked home with her, and visited -her three or four times a week. It was too tiresome, that he should -be her invariable companion, and vainly had she endeavoured to break -her chains, but he was older, and more experienced, than she was,—and -thoroughly understood the art of making _her_ conspicuous, and himself -immovable! Little did Mr. Lisle guess that Miss Denis would have much -preferred him as a companion. Alas! the world is full of contrariness. - -Mr. Quentin appreciated Helen because she was difficult to fascinate, -Helen appreciated Mr. Lisle because he held himself aloof, and never -gave any one the chance of acquiring that familiarity, which notably -breeds contempt! and Mr. Lisle was greatly surprised to find, that he -was exceedingly envious of his friend, that he admired Helen Denis more -than any girl he had ever seen! But he admired, and stood afar off; no -thought of disloyalty to James Quentin. No _arrière pensée_ of that -motto, "All's fair in love and war," ever entered his mind, he was only -sorry, as he said to himself, that he was too late! - - * * * * * - -The Settlement band played twice a week in the little public gardens -on Ross, and their strains were an irresistible summons to all the -(free) inhabitants. One special afternoon, we notice Mrs. Home holding -animated converse with Mr. Latimer, in his cool, black alpaca coat; -we see Mrs. Creery enthroned on a sofa (which she always provided) -alone, clad in a gorgeous combination of colours, that could only have -been achieved by a daring soul! We observe Helen and Miss Caggett in -company—the latter had apologized for her outbreak. "It would not -_do_," she said to herself, "to be on bad terms with the Denis girl, -she was too popular, all the men would be on her side, Captain Rodney, -Mr. Green, and that ugly Irishman, Dr. Malone; wretches who were always -praising her rival in her hearing!" A day or two after the storm, she -had gone to Helen, and begged and implored her to forget a certain -scene between them in the forest above North Bay; declared that she -would be miserable for life if Helen was not her friend, that she would -rather have her little finger than Mr. Quentin's whole person, that she -would sooner marry the typical crossing-sweeper than him, and that she -had been very cross and bad-tempered, and hoped that Helen would forget -an occasion that it would make her blush to recall! This was very fine, -but _who_ had ever seen Miss Caggett blush? However, Helen was quite -ready to accept the olive-branch, and, like the school-boys, to say -"Pax." - -There was a considerable gathering at the band, including "Mr. Quentin -and Co.," as Mrs. Creery humorously called them. On band nights, the -former usually reclined on the sward, literally and figuratively at -Helen's feet, but to-night this butterfly was occupied (in quite a -temporary manner) with a nice-looking widow, who had come over from -Rangoon to pay a visit to her sister, Mrs. King, at Viper. People were -walking about in couples, standing in groups, and sitting down in rows. -Mrs. Creery (who did not appreciate the solitude of greatness) nodded -to Helen to approach, and take a place beside her, saying, rather -patronizingly, as she accepted the invitation, "So I hear that your -little bachelor's dinner went off quite nicely, and that everything was -eatable except the ice pudding!" - -Helen felt annoyed, "quite nicely" was indeed but faint praise, after -all the trouble she had taken, and the success that she flattered -herself she had achieved. - -She made no reply, but became rather red. - -"And you had Mr. Quentin, of course, and the General, and Mr. Latimer, -and Dr. Parks. What champagne did you give them; from the mess, or the -bazaar?" - -"Bazaar champagne! Oh, Mrs. Creery"—indignantly—"there is no such -thing, is there?" - -"Yes, and why not? I believe no one can tell the difference between -it and that expensive stuff at the mess. I declare—" her attention -suddenly distracted to another quarter—"look at Mr. Lisle, in a -respectable suit of clothes"—glancing over to where that gentleman was -talking to three men. - -"Billy!" she screamed to one of Mrs. Home's little boys, "go over -to Mr. Lisle, and tell him that I want him at once. Fancy"—turning -to Helen and speaking in a tone of pious horror—"those men are -European convicts, tickets-of-leave, and allowed to use the garden and -library—a very unwise indulgence. I quite set _my_ face against it, -and so I've told the General. Of course no decent person would speak to -the wretches; no one but a man like Lisle!" - -"What have they been sent here for?" asked her companion. - -"One for forgery, one for stabbing a man in a sailor's row in -Calcutta, and one was, _he_ says, sent here by mistake; but most of -them say _that_! Well," raising her voice, "Mr. Lisle, permit me to -congratulate you on your choice of companions." - -"Poor creatures! They never have the chance of exchanging a word with -any one but each other, it pleases them, and does _me_ no harm. Lots of -worse fellows are at large,—and prospering!" - -"Oh, pray don't excuse yourself, Mr. Lisle. Birds of a feather—you -know the adage." - -"Yes, thank you, Mrs. Creery," making an inclination of such -exaggerated deference, that Helen now understood what Miss Caggett -meant, when she said that he was polite to rudeness. "You sent for me, -Mrs. Creery?"—interrogatively. - -"Yes, because I did not choose to see you talking to those jail birds! -You can talk to _me_ instead." - -Here was alluring invitation! - -"Of course you know Miss Denis—but only recently. You were late in -welcoming her to Port Blair!" - -"I have the pleasure of knowing Miss Denis, but as to welcoming her to -Port Blair, such a proceeding would be altogether presumptuous on my -part, and no doubt she received a welcome, from the proper quarter." -And he once more bowed himself before Mrs. Creery. - -Helen could scarcely keep her countenance when she met his eyes, and -hastily turned off her smiles by saying,— - -"I am sorry you could not dine with us last night." - -"Mr. Lisle _never_ dines out," replied the elder lady, speaking -precisely as if she was Mr. Lisle's interpreter. - -"Quentin is talking of getting up a dinner," he said, "in fact he is -rather full of it." - -"Dinner! Well, don't let him give it till full moon. I hate crossing -in the dark, and be sure it is on a mutton-day!" said the elder lady -authoritatively. (N.B. Mutton was only procurable once a week.) - -"I will remember your suggestions, but a good deal depends on the -butler, and _his_ inclination. He is rather an imperious person, we -have but little voice in the domestic arrangements." - -"_You!_"—scornfully—"of course not; but I should hope that Mr. -Quentin is master of his own house." - -"He leaves all to Abraham, and generally everything has turned out -well—except perhaps the writing of the _menu_! Last time, people were -a little startled on glancing over it, to see that they were going to -partake of 'Roast lion and jam pupps.'" - -Helen laughed delightedly, but the elder lady gravely said, "Oh, roast -loin and jam puffs. Well, that's the worst of not having a lady in the -house. Such mistakes never happen in _my_ establishment!" - -"Would you like to take a turn now, Miss Denis?" said Mr. Lisle, -glancing at her as he spoke. - -"I daresay she would, and so would I," returned Mrs. Creery briskly, -rising and walking at the other side of him, an honour for which he was -by no means prepared. - -"What is that unearthly noise?" inquired Helen; "_what_ are those -sounds that nearly drown the band?" - -"Yes; reminds me of a pig being killed," rejoined Mr. Lisle; "but it -is merely the Andamanese school-children on the beach. This is the day -that their _wild_ parents come to see them; they arrived this morning -in a big canoe, and doubtless brought all kinds of nice, wholesome, -dainty edibles for their young people. They are sitting in a circle, -whooping and yelling, real _bonâ fide_ savages! Would you like to come -out and see them?" - -"Certainly not," exclaimed Mrs. Creery, indignantly. - -At this moment they were joined by the General and Captain Rodney, who -had just entered the gardens. - -"Have you heard anything more about that fellow, sir?" inquired Mr. -Lisle. - -"No; nothing as yet, but Adams and King are doing their best. I fancy -he has taken to the bush." - -"Oh! then in that case, the Andamanese will soon bring him in," -observed Mr. Latimer. "That, or starvation; roots and berries won't -keep soul and body together, though many have tried the experiment." - -"What! _what_ is all this about? What do you mean?" inquired Mrs. -Creery, excitedly. - -"Oh! rather a bad business at Hadow last night. One of the convicts -killed a warder, and has got away," replied the General. - -"How did it happen?" - -"It seems that this fellow, Aboo Sait, a Mahomedan, has always been an -unusually bad lot. A few months ago, he nearly beat out the brains of -another convict with his hoe, merely excusing himself on the plea that -he was tired of life, and wanted to be hanged. However, as his victim -recovered, we were unable to oblige him, and he was heard to say that -he would do for a white man next time! Last night, just before they -went to section, he was missed, and one of the warders was sent to -look for him; but as he did not return, a general search was made, and -the warder was found on his face among the reeds, stabbed through the -heart, and Aboo was still missing." - -"I'm glad he is on the mainland!" ejaculated Mrs. Creery, with a -shudder. "I would not change places with Mrs. Manners for a trifle!" - -"Then he is not so desirous of being executed as you imagined," said -Mr. Lisle. "He did not give himself up." - -"Not he!" rejoined the General. "Life is sweet; his threats meant -nothing." - -"Perhaps he has gone off to sea," suggested Colonel Denis. "I know they -have all a foolish notion that those far-away islands are India, and -that the steamboat that brings them here, merely goes round and round -for a few days to deceive them—they being below under hatches." - -"No fear of his taking to the water, Colonel," replied the General. "I -have put a stop to that little game with the boats, and no convict crew -can now take out a boat, unless the owner, or some European, is with -them. The rascals went off with no end of boats, and got picked up at -sea as shipwrecked lascars, &c. Two even got so far north as London, in -the affecting character of 'castaways.'" - -"And how did they fare there?" inquired Helen. - -"In princely style, by their own account, they would like to repeat the -visit; they were fed and clothed and fêted and supplied with money; -they actually went to the theatre, and had their photographs taken—the -last a fatal snare—but they were vain! The moment they landed in -Bombay, thanks to their photos, the police wanted them, sent them back -to us—and here they are!" - -"Yes, the boats were a great temptation; but now they go off on logs," -said Mr. Latimer, "and even take to the sea in chains; the Malays, -especially, can swim like fish. However, their fellow-convicts are -getting too sharp for them; the reward of five rupees puts them on -their mettle." - -"Too much on their mettle, sometimes!" protested Mrs. Graham, who had -joined the group. "Last monsoon, my boatmen nearly capsized the boat -one evening I was returning from church. What between the runaway's -struggles to escape, and their determination to land him, once or twice -we were all within a point of going over. My screams and expostulations -were quite useless!" - -"The natives are very sharp after convicts, too," said the General; -"and I'll double the reward this time; it's not pleasant to leave such -a scoundrel as Aboo Sait loafing round the settlements,—especially as -he is _armed_! - -"Miss Denis," turning to Helen, "there is a very singular object in the -sky to-night, which I'm sure you have never seen; we call it Moses' -Horn. Lisle, you should take her up the hill, and let her see it before -it fades. I've a lot of work to do, and I'm going home," (to Helen) "or -I would not depute any one to exhibit this rather rare sight." - -In compliance with the General's suggestion, Helen and Mr. Lisle left -the little gardens together (despite Mrs. Creery's angry signals to the -former), and walked up to the flagstaff, and surveyed the sea and sky, -and beheld a long purple streak extending from the south, and pointing -as it were directly to the island. It was very sharply defined, and -gigantic in size, and had to Helen rather an awful, and supernatural -appearance. - -"It is shaped like a finger," she said at last. "I never saw anything -so strange!" - -"Yes, the finger of fate," agreed her companion, "and if I were -superstitious, I would say that it was pointing straight at us. Perhaps -there may be some remote connection between our planets; perhaps they -are identical." - -As they stood gazing, the phenomenon gradually melted away before their -eyes, and was replaced by the moon, which now rose out of the sea like -a huge fire balloon! - -"The moon is irrepressible out here," remarked Mr. Lisle, "she seems -always to the fore." - -"So much the better," replied Helen, "these Eastern nights are -splendid. I wonder, by-the-way, why the moon has always been spoken of -by the feminine gender." - -"As the Lady Moon? Oh! that question is easily answered:—Because she -is never the same two days running." - -"Now, Mr. Lisle, I call that rude—a base reflection on my sex. I don't -believe we are half as changeable as yours. - - "'One foot on sea and one on shore, - To one thing constant never.' - -Pray, to whom does that refer?" and she looked at him interrogatively. - -"I could give you a dozen quotations on the other side, but I -will spare you; it is my opinion that women are as changeable as -weathercocks." - -"An opinion founded on your own experience?" - -"Well, no, I am wise; _I_ profit by the experience of my friends." - -"Oh!" rather scornfully, "second-hand things are never valuable!" - -Mr. Lisle laughed and said, "Well, don't let us quarrel. What did we -start with? Oh! the moon;" and gazing over at that orb, he added, "I, -too, can repeat poetry, Miss Denis, and this seems just a fitting place -to quote: - - "'Larger constellations burning—mellow moons and happy skies; - Breadths of tropic shade, and palms in clusters—knots of paradise.'" - -This was an apt quotation, and exactly illustrated the scene before -them. The loud striking of a clock aroused these two people from a -rather reflective silence; it recalled them sharply from day dreams, -to the dinner-hour! And, after a little desultory conversation, they -retraced their steps, and rejoined the crowd in the gardens just as the -band was playing "God Save the Queen." - - - - -CHAPTER XII. - -THE WRECK. - - "The direful spectacle of the wreck." - - _Tempest_ - - -IT may be among the facts not generally known, that the Andaman seas -and shores are wealthy in shells; and people who grumble at being -despatched to do duty at the settlement are usually consoled by their -friends (who are not accompanying them), saying, "Oh, it's a charming -place! if you have a taste for conchology, you will have any quantity -of shelling." - -In most cases, the shelling is angrily repudiated, and yet the chances -are, that once arrived upon the scene of action, and stimulated by -general example and keen emulation, the new-comers will develop into -the most unwearying, rabid, and greedy of shellers! - -When I say a greedy sheller, I refer to an individual who, when tide, -wind and moon favour, will secretly take boat, and steal away to the -most likely parts of Corvyn's Cove, or some favourite reef at Navy Bay, -and there reaping a rich and solitary harvest, return with bare-faced -triumph, and swagger, dripping up the pier, between two lines of -outraged acquaintances, with a shameless air of,— - -"Ah, ha! see what _I_ have got!" - -From the General, down to Billy Home, every one went shelling at Port -Blair, and some of these "shell maniacs" (as Mrs. Creery dubbed them) -had superb and valuable collections. There was as much excitement and -competition over a day's quest as would be expended on covert shooting -or salmon fishing at home. It was not merely a frivolous picking up -of pretty objects; it was a very serious business. The finder of the -rarest shells was the hero of the hour: the owner of "ring" cowries was -a person of repute! - -Behold, then, one afternoon, a few days after the band, two large -rowing-boats waiting at the pier for shellers! and kindly notice the -party coming down to embark. An inexperienced eye would naturally -assume that they were all going to bathe, for each individual carries a -bag and a couple of bath towels—to put round the back of their heads -as they stoop in the sun. Their garments are whole, indeed, and quite -good enough for the occasion, but how faded, and shrunken, and cockled -with sea-water! Their boots—but no, we will draw a veil over these. To -be brief the appearance of the company is the reverse of distinguished. -In a few short happy hours they will return: they will be all soaking -in water from the waist downwards. (Luckily, wading about in the -nice, warm sea is rather pleasant after the first plunge, and people -in the excitement of shelling are insidiously drawn in deeper and -deeper still.) Yes, by six o'clock, if all goes well, we shall see -the company of shellers, returning like a party of half-drowned rats; -but there will be no shyness, no reluctance, in their progress up the -pier; without the least diffidence, they will run the gauntlet of -all the idlers, with an air of lofty pride, born of the noble spoils -they usually carry. Have they not in their bags such treasures as -"woodcocks," "staircases," "tigers," and "poached eggs"! We spare the -reader the Latin names of these rarities. - - * * * * * - -To-day, the General (a keen sheller,) is going, also Mr. Latimer, -Captain Rodney, Dr. Parks, Miss Caggett, Dr. Malone, Colonel Home, -Colonel and Miss Denis, and last, but by no means least, Mrs. Creery -(and Nip). She does not condescend to shell, but she goes on principle, -as she rarely suffers an expedition to leave Ross without her patronage. - -Colonel Denis and his daughter came hurrying down, just as the party -were about to descend the steps. - -"Good gracious, Helen!" cried Mrs. Creery, "you are never going to -shell in _that_ dress!" speaking exactly as if it were her own property. - -"No, no," shaking her head, and exhibiting a small block and paint-box. -"Have you forgotten that you are to leave me on the wreck to sketch?" - -"Oh, true, so we are. Well, get in, _do_! My dear, you are keeping us -all waiting." - -In another two minutes the boats were full, and rowing away across -the water with long, steady strokes; then up the estuary, between -the wooded hills of Mount Harriet on one hand, and Hadow—where the -lepers were kept—at the other, past the little isle of Chatham, where, -according to a legend (for which I will not vouch), eighty convicts -were hanged on yon old tree, one May morning, and round the bend, till -they were in sight of the wreck, a large three-masted ship, stranded -on the muddy shallows, cast away there by some terrible cyclone as it -tore its way up the Bay of Bengal. Her history was unknown, for she was -already there when the Andamans were opened up, where she came from, -and what had been the fate of her crew and passengers—would never now -be learned. From her rigging, it was guessed that she was of American -build,—but that was all. - -Even in the brilliant afternoon light, she appeared grey and weird, -with her skeleton gear aloft, and her dark, wide-open ports, looking -like so many hollow eyes, as she lay among the tall bulrushes, sheathed -in sea-weed. Her cabins and deck were intact, and she had been used as -a hulk in former years, till, being the scene of a ghastly tragedy, and -other prisons having been built, she was once more abandoned to the -barnacles and the rats. She seemed much larger, and more awe-inspiring -at close quarters; and as they rowed under her stern, Helen, in -her secret heart, was rather sorry that she had been so determined -to spend two hours upon the wreck alone; that all the way down she -had jeered and laughed at Dr. Malone's warnings of cockroaches and -ghosts. However, there was no possibility of changing her mind _now_, -especially with Lizzie Caggett's inquiring eyes bent upon her—Lizzie, -who was mentally revelling in the prospect of the undivided attentions -of all Miss Denis' admirers, for the next two hours! - -"Now that it has come to the pinch, I believe you are afraid," she -remarked, with a malicious smile. - -The only reply that Helen vouchsafed to this taunt was by immediately -standing up. Greatly to her surprise, Mrs. Creery also rose, saying,— - -"I think I'll go with you! Nip is fond of sniffing among old timber, -and he hates shelling, like his mistress." - -No one clamoured against _their_ departure, and Helen was for once -in her life glad of Mrs. Creery's society, and grateful to Nip. The -two ladies were presently helped over the side (Nip being cautiously -carried up by the scruff of his neck), and the party were left by -themselves. To the last, Dr. Malone pressed Helen to "think better of -it, a quarter of an hour will be more than ample, you will see." - -At this prophecy, she merely shook her head, and showed her sketch-book. - -"I should not wonder if we find you both in the rigging when we come -back!" he shouted, as the boat rowed off, and making a speaking-trumpet -of his hands, he added, "she's full of rats!" - - * * * * * - -As the sound of the oars grew fainter and fainter, Helen went to the -bows, from whence she hoped to make her sketch, and stood silently -looking at the view—at the wooded hills casting deep shadows into the -glassy water, at the arm of the sea they had just come up, and out in -the open ocean like a green gem in a silver setting—the distant island -of Ross. It was undoubtedly, as Mr. Latimer had suggested, a capital -place for a sketch, and she must lose no time, and make the most of the -light whilst it lasted. So she got out her paint-box and immediately -set to work; but,—and here I appeal specially to artists,—_is_ it -easy to draw, with a large solar topee thrust over your right shoulder, -and a voice perpetually in your ear, saying,— - -"Oh, you are not making Ross nearly high enough! Surely that point is -never meant for Hopetown? those trees are too far apart; and Chatham is -crooked!" - -Helen was almost beside herself, every stroke was rudely criticized, -and Mrs. Creery emphasized her remarks with her chin, which was nearly -as sharp as that of the Duchess in _Wonderland_. At length she turned -her attention elsewhere, much to her victim's relief, and began to -investigate, and poke about among old spars and rubbish. - -After a delightful respite, Helen heard her calling out,— - -"I see a little boat coming this way, with two men in it—no, one man -is a dog; it's from Navy Bay, and is sure to be Mr. Manners. I'll wave -and beckon him here, for it's very dull for me!" - -Accordingly Mrs. Creery's handkerchief (which was the size of an -ordinary towel) was seen being violently agitated over the side, and -met with an immediate response, for the little boat rowed by one man, -with one dog passenger, was soon within easy hail. - -"I do declare," cried Mrs. Creery peevishly, "if it is not that odious -Mr. Lisle! I never wanted _him_." However, wanted or not, he was -already alongside, looking up at the bulwarks expectantly. - -"Oh! it's you, Mrs. Creery! can I be of any service to you?" - -"I thought it was Mr. Manners," she called down in an aggrieved tone. -"I never dreamt of its being _you_! However, you may come up," speaking -precisely as if she were in her own verandah. - -Mr. Lisle did not look as if he was going to seize this niggardly -invitation; on the contrary, he took a firmer hold of the sculls, -glanced over his shoulder, and was evidently about to depart, when Mrs. -Creery casually remarked, as if it were a mere afterthought,— - -"Oh! by-the-way, Miss Denis is here too, sketching." - -Apparently this intelligence altered the case, for the gentleman -paused, rested on his oars, and said rather nonchalantly,— - -"Very well, I shall come aboard—since you wish it so particularly!" -and, rowing round, made fast his boat, and was soon on deck, closely -followed by a big brown retriever. - -"Oh, dear me!" cried Mrs. Creery, lifting up her hands. "So you have -brought that nasty dog! he is sure to fight with Nip." - -"Not he, I will be security for his good conduct. And how are you -getting on, Miss Denis?" to Helen, who was shyly hiding her drawing -with her arm. - -"Not at all well; I am not accustomed to sketching, and my attempt here -is such a libel on the view, that I am quite ashamed to let you see -it, but it" (apologetically) "seems a pity not to try and take away -some recollections of these lovely islands." - -"Yes, you are quite right; and I shall be very glad to give you some -photographs, that is if you would care for them—they don't give the -colours, of course." - -(At this offer Mrs. Creery became rigid and gave a little warning -cough.) - -"But," taking up Helen's sketch, "this is not at all bad! Your -perspective is a bit out here, and you have not got the right shade in -the sea!" - -"I know it is all frightful; sea, and land, and sky," returned Helen, -colouring; "I am sure you can draw, Mr. Lisle: please have the charity -to do something to it for me, and make it look less like a thing on a -tea-tray," holding her box and brushes towards him as she spoke. - -Mr. Lisle, without another word, laid the block upon the bulwarks, -gazed for a moment at the scene, and then dashed in two or three -effective strokes, with what even Mrs. Creery (who had, of course, -followed up the sketch) could see was a master's hand. - -Helen's pale, meek, school-girl attempt received in three minutes -another complexion; with a few rapid touches, a glow of the setting-sun -lit up the sky, and threw out in bold relief the dark promontory of -Mount Harriet; a touch to the sea, and it became sea (no longer mere -green paper); palms and gurgeon trees appeared as if by magic; Helen -had never seen anything like the transformation. She almost held her -breath as she gazed—not quite so closely as the elder lady, whose -topee was in its old place;—why, the drawing-master at Miss Twigg's -could not paint a quarter as well as Mr. Lisle; who now looked at the -view, with his head on one side, and then glanced at Helen, amused at -the awe and admiration depicted on her countenance. - -"Yes, _that's_ more like it," cried Mrs. Creery, encouragingly. "I told -you, you know," to Helen, "that your sea was too green and flat, and -your perspective all wrong! I know a good deal about drawing myself." -(May she be forgiven for this fable!) "My sister, Lady Grubb is a -beautiful artist, and has done some lovely Decalcomanie vases; but -_you_ paint very nicely, too, Mr. Lisle, really quite as well as most -drawing-masters!" Then, looking suddenly round, "But all this time -where is Nip? I do believe that he has followed that horrible brute of -yours down into the cabins!" - -"Not at all likely, Mrs. Creery, you know that they are not affinities; -Nip has followed his own inquisitive impulses, for Hero," moving aside, -"is here." - -"Well, where can he be? Nip, Nip, Nip!" walking away in search of her -treasure. - -"He is not _lost_, at any rate," muttered Mr. Lisle, "no such luck." -Then, in a louder tone, "Is not this a strange, out-of-the-world -place?" to Helen, who was watching his busy brush with childlike -interest. "If I had been suddenly asked about the Andamans, a couple of -years ago, I should have been puzzled to say whether they were a place, -a family of that name, or something to _eat_—wouldn't you?" - -"Not quite so bad as that," smiling. - -"Oh, of course, pardon me—I forgot that you are a young lady of most -unusual information." - -"No, no, no, I knew nothing about them, I candidly confess, till papa -came here." - -"They certainly well repay a visit," continued her companion, painting -away steadily as he spoke, "there is a sort of Arcadian simplicity, a -kind of savage solitude, an absence of worry, and not the slightest -hurry about anything, that has wonderful charms for me." - -"Then I suppose you are naturally lazy, and would like to bask in the -sun all day, and have one person to brush away the flies, and another -to do your thinking." - -"Miss Denis," suddenly looking up at her, with mock indignation, "you -speak as if you were alluding to one of the animals of the lower -creation;—what have I done to deserve this? I deny the impeachment -of laziness. 'Coming, sir,' my servant, will testify that I am out -every morning at half-past five; neither am I idle, but I like to -spend my time in my own way, not to be driven hither and thither by -dinner gongs, and railway bells, and telegrams. I like to pull my neck -out from under the social yoke,—to carry out your uncomplimentary -simile,—and figuratively, to graze a bit!" - -Helen made no reply, but leant her chin on her hand, and looked down -abstractedly at the water for some time; twice her companion glanced -up, and saw that she was still buried in reflection. At last he said, -"I would not presume to purchase your thoughts, Miss Denis, but perhaps -you will be so generous as to share them with me?" - -"You might not like them! Some of them were about myself," and she -laughed rather confusedly. - -"And may I not ascertain whether I approve of them or not?" - -"You may, if you will promise not to be offended." - -"I promise in the most solemn manner; I swear by bell, book, and -candle; and I am very much honoured that you should think of me _at -all_!" - -"You are laughing at me, Mr. Lisle," she said, colouring vividly, -divining a lurking sarcasm in this speech. "I am dumb, and indeed I -have no business to criticize you even in my thoughts, much less to -your face——" - -"Speak out plainly, Miss Denis," he interrupted eagerly; "let me have -your views, good and bad, or bad alone." - -"It is very presumptuous in me I know—I am only a girl, and you are -a great deal older than I am—but it seems to me that every one has -some place of their own in the world allotted to them—some special -duty to fulfil—" here her listener glanced at her sharply, but her -eyes were bent unconsciously on the water, and she did not note his -gaze—"surely it is scarcely right to shirk one's share of all the toil -and the struggling in the outer world, and the chances of helping one's -fellow-creatures, in ways however small,—just for the selfish pleasure -of being securely moored from all annoyances among these sleepy -islands!" - -She stopped, and looked up at him rather timidly, with considerably -heightened colour, and added, in answer to his unusually grave face, -and stare of steadfast surprise,— - -"I can see that you think me a very impertinent girl, and will never -speak to me again; but you _would_ have my thoughts, and there they -are, just as they entered my head!" - -"I think you are a brave and noble young lady, Miss Denis, and you -have taught me a lesson that I shall certainly take to heart. I came -here for six weeks, and have stayed nearly six months, enjoying this -lotus-eating existence, oblivious of my place in the world, and my -duty—and I _have_ duties elsewhere; thank you for reminding me of -them, and indeed, my relations are beginning to think that I am lost, -or have fallen a prey to cannibals!" - -Here was Mr. Lisle speaking of his belongings and his plans for -once,—oh, why was not Mrs. Creery on the spot? - -However, she was not far off, and her shrill cry of "Nip, Nip, Nip! -where are you, Nip?" was coming nearer and nearer. - - - - -CHAPTER XIII. - -"BLUE BEARD'S CHAMBER." - - "I doubt some danger does approach you nearly." - - _Macbeth._ - - -"HE must be in the saloon!" cried Mrs. Creery. "I've hunted the whole -ship, and I'm sure he has gone down. You," to Mr. Lisle, "will have to -go after him; I dare not, it looks so dark." - -To explore the rat-haunted cabins of this old hulk in search of "Nip," -was by no means an errand to Mr. Lisle's taste; he would infinitely -have preferred to remain sketching on the bulwarks, and conversing with -Helen Denis. However, of course he had no alternative. Go he must! -Somewhat to his surprise, the young lady said,— - -"I shall go too; the ports are open, there will be plenty of light, and -I want to investigate the cabins downstairs." - -"You had much better not, mind! you will only dirty your dress," urged -Mrs. Creery dissuasively, but Helen's slim white figure had already -vanished down the companion-ladder, in the wake of Mr. Lisle. - -At first it was as dark as Erebus—after coming out of the glare -above—but as their eyes became accustomed to the gloom, there was -sufficient light from the open stern windows to show that they were -standing in a long narrow saloon, with numerous cabins at either side. - -"It looks quite like the steamer I came out in!" exclaimed the young -lady. (Anything but a compliment to a first-class P. and O.) "That is -to say, the length and shape. There are tables, too!" (These had not -been worth removing, and were fastened to the floor.) - -"It was used as a prison long ago, I believe," said Mr. Lisle. - -"Yes, and——" - -Helen was about to add that murder had been done there, but something -froze the sentence on her lips; it seemed scarcely the time and place -to speak of _that_. - -"Nip, Nip, Nip!" cried his infatuated mistress, who had cautiously -descended to the foot of the stairs, holding her petticoats tightly -swathed round her. "Where are you, you naughty dog? Ah!" shrieking, and -skipping surprisingly high, "I'm _sure_ that was a rat!" - -"Not at all unlikely," rejoined Mr. Lisle, rattling noisily along the -wainscot with a bit of stick, whilst Mrs. Creery hurriedly withdrew up -half-a-dozen steps, where she remained plaintively calling "Nip, Nip, -Nip!" - -Miss Denis had meanwhile been looking out of the stern windows on the -now moonlit water, the tall bulrushes, and the wooded shores; and -here in a few moments she was joined by her fellow-explorer, who was -examining something in his hand. - -"See what I have found!" he said. "When I was hammering the old -boarding just now, a plank fell away, and this thing rolled out. I -believe," wiping it in his handkerchief as he spoke, and tendering it -for her inspection, "that it is a woman's ring." - -"A ring! so it is," returned Helen; "and it looks like gold." - -"Oh, yes! it's gold right enough, I fancy, and must have belonged to -one of the passengers of this ship." - -"I wonder who wore it last," turning it over. "I wish it could speak -and tell us its history, and how many years it is since it was lost." - -"It was a woman's ring; you see it would only just fit my little -finger," observed Mr. Lisle, putting it on as he spoke; "now try it on -yours." Helen slipped it on—it fitted perfectly. - -"It is an old posy or betrothal ring,—at any rate it resembles one -that my mother used to wear!" - -"Helen and Mr. Lisle! what are you doing?" screamed Mrs. Creery. -"You are chattering away there, and not helping me one bit." She was -standing on the ladder exactly as they had left her. "You have never -searched in the cabins! He may be shut up in one of them; try those -opposite, Helen! Do you hear me?" - -Thus recalled to their duty, Mr. Lisle now undertook to inspect one -side of the saloon, and his companion the other. All the compartments -that Helen had examined were empty so far,—but she came at last to -one—with a closed door! - -"Take care! it may be Blue Beard's closet," suggested Mr. Lisle -facetiously, as he looked in and out of cabins in his own neighbourhood. - -Helen laughed, turned the handle and entered; the moon shone clear -through the paneless port, and showed her a cabin exactly similar to -the others—just two wooden worm-eaten bunks, and that was all. Behind -the door—ah! a little song she was humming died away upon her lips, -and she uttered a stifled exclamation, as her startled eyes fell upon -a tall, powerful man in convict's dress, in short, no less a person -than Aboo Sait! In a twinkling his grasp was on her throat, crushing -her savagely against the wall. Vain indeed were her struggles, he was -strangling her with iron hands; his fierce turbaned face was within an -inch of hers, she felt his hot breath upon her cheek! She could not -scream or move, her hands fell nerveless at her sides, her sight was -failing, hearing seemed to be the only sense that had not deserted her! -she could distinctly catch the faint, irregular lapping of the water -against the old ship's sides, and Mrs. Creery's querulous voice calling -"Nip, Nip, Nip!" whilst _she_ was dying! - -"Well, have you found Blue Beard or Nip?" demanded Mr. Lisle, pushing -back the door as he spoke. "Good God!" - -In another instant she was released—she breathed again. That awful -grip was off her throat, for with one well-delivered blow Aboo's prey -was wrenched from his grasp, and he himself sent staggering across the -cabin; but his repulse was merely momentary; the convict was armed with -a knife,—_the_ knife; in a second it shone in his hand, and with a -tigerish bound he flung himself on the new-comer. - -And now within the narrow space of that cabin commenced such a struggle -for life and death as has seldom been witnessed. Mr. Lisle was a -middle-sized, well-made, athletic Englishman, endowed with iron muscles -and indomitable pluck—but he was over-matched by the convict in bone -and weight. Aboo was six foot two, as wiry as a panther, as lithe as a -serpent, and all his efforts were edged by the fatal fact that _he_ had -everything to gain and everything to lose! - -The issue of this conflict meant to him, liberty and his very existence -on one hand, and Viper Island and the gibbet, on the other.—Win he -must, since the stake was his LIFE! - -They wrestle silently to and fro, finally out of the cabin, locked -in a deadly embrace. The Englishman, though stabbed in the arm, had -succeeded in clutching the convict's right wrist, so that for the -moment that sharp gleaming weapon is powerless! Aboo, on his side, -holds his antagonist in a wolfish grip by the throat—they sway, they -struggle, they slide and stagger on the oozy floor of the saloon. At -the moment, the advantage is with Aboo Sait—if he gets the chance -he will strangle this Feringhee devil, and cut the throat of that -white-faced girl, who is still leaning against the cabin wall, faint -and breathless. - -But he has not reckoned on another female—a female who has ceased -to call "Nip, Nip, Nip, Nip," and has now rushed up on deck with -outstretched arms, shrieking, "Murder! murder! murder!" - -"Fly, save yourself!" gasped Mr. Lisle to Helen, at the expense of an -ugly wound in the neck. She cannot fly; a kind of hideous spell holds -her to the spot, gazing on the scene before her with eyes glazed with -horror. Her very hair seems rising from her head, for she is perfectly -certain that murder will be done; the convict will kill Mr. Lisle, -and _she_ will be an involuntary witness of the awful deed! And yet -she cannot move, nor shake off this frightful nightmare; she is, as it -were, chained to her place. But hark! her ears catch distant singing, -and the rise and fall of oars. This familiar noise is the signal of her -release—the spell is broken. - -"They are coming! they are coming!" she screamed, and rushed upstairs, -calling "Help! help! help!" She sees the boats approaching steadily in -the moonlight, but, alas! their occupants are so entirely engrossed -in chaunting "Three Blind Mice," that her agonized signals, and Mrs. -Creery's piercing cries, are apparently unnoticed. And whilst they -are singing, _what_ is being done in that dark cabin down below? She -thought with sickening horror of those two struggling figures, of that -gleaming, merciless knife, and hurried once more to the head of the -stairs. As she did so, she heard the sound of a heavy fall, and in -another moment, fear thrown to the wind, she was in the saloon. - -Mr. Lisle had slipped upon the slimy boards, made a valiant effort to -recover himself, but, overborne by the convict's superior weight, he -fell, still locked in that iron embrace. In the fall, the weapon had -flown out of Aboo's hand,—but only a short way, it was within easy -reach; and now, Gilbert Lisle, your hour has come! He sees it in the -criminal's face, he knows that his life is to be reckoned by seconds, -and yet his eye, as it meets that malignant gaze, never quails, though -it seems a hard fate to perish thus, in this old hulk, and at the hands -of such a ruffian! With his knee pressed down upon his victim's chest, -a murderous smile upon his face, Aboo stretched out a long, hairy, -cruel arm, to seize the knife, just as Helen reached the foot of the -ladder. Like lightning she sprang forward, pounced on it, snatched at -it, secured it—and running down the cabin, flung it far into the sea, -which it clave with one silvered flash, and then sank. - - * * * * * - -Miss Denis was not nearly so much frightened now,—nay, she felt -comparatively brave since _that_ was gone. She heard the near sound -of voices, and a noise of many steps hurrying downstairs. There was a -desperate struggle. In three minutes Aboo, once more a prisoner, with -his arms bound in his turban, was led up on deck, cursing and howling -and spitting like a wild cat. Here we behold Mrs. Creery, the centre -of an anxious circle, volubly narrating a story in which the personal -pronoun "I" is frequently repeated; and Helen, quite broken-down, -and trembling from head to foot, clinging to her father, looking the -picture of cowardice, as at the same moment Mrs. Creery might have sat -for the portrait of "Bellona" herself. - -Miss Caggett (who had had a most satisfactory afternoon) approached the -former and examined her curiously.—She was scarcely able to speak, and -was shaking like a leaf, and at this instant the General and Dr. Malone -came up from the saloon, followed by Mr. Lisle, minus his hat, his coat -in rags, and his arm in a sling. Every one looked at him for a moment -in silence, and then a torrent of words broke forth—words conveying -wonder, sympathy, and praise. - -But he, scarcely noticing the crowd, went straight up to Colonel Denis -and said, "Sir, I suppose you know that your daughter has just saved my -life?" - -"I—I—did not," he replied, astounded at this rather abrupt address; -"I thought it was the other way—that you saved hers!" - -"That fellow nearly strangled her; I'm afraid she got a fearful shock." - -"Miss Denis," addressing her in a lower voice, "words seem but feeble -things after such a deed as yours; but believe me, that I shall never -forget what your courage and presence of mind have done for me to-day." - -"No, no," she answered in a choked voice, shaking her head, "it was -you—_you_." More she could not utter, as the recollection of her -recent ordeal flashed before her, when Aboo had his deadly clutch upon -her throat. She turned away, and hiding her face against her father's -arm, burst into tears. - -"What a queer, hysterical creature!" remarked Miss Caggett _sotto -voce_ to Dr. Malone. "All this fuss, just because Mr. Lisle caught a -convict, and the convict tore his coat!" - -"I think there was more in it than that," objected her listener. "The -man nearly strangled her, and he was armed; somehow she got hold of the -knife and threw it away. The story is all rather confused as yet—but -she is an uncommonly plucky girl!" - -"She _looks_ it," returned Lizzie, with a malicious giggle. - -"And," continued Dr. Malone, not noticing her interruption, "as for -Lisle, I always knew that he was a splendid chap." - -This speech was not palatable to Miss Caggett; she tossed her head and -replied,— - -"_I_ see nothing splendid about him; and for that matter, Mrs. Creery -says that she saved everybody——" - -"Oh, of course," ironically. "I can tell you this much, that it's -well for Mrs. Creery that it was not an elegant, indolent fop that -happened to be aboard, like her friend, Mr. James Quentin; if _he_ had -fallen foul of Aboo, Aboo would have made short work of him with his -flaccid muscles and portly figure; it was ten to one on the convict, -an exceptionally powerful man—he was desperate, like a wolf in a -cage, and he was armed. However, Lisle is as hard as nails, and a very -determined fellow, and whatever Mrs. Creery may choose to say, we owe -her valuable life to _him_." - -"He managed to save his own too," snapped Lizzie, as if she rather -regretted the circumstance. - -"Yes, but he has got a couple of very ugly deep cuts—one of them -dangerously near the jugular!" - -"It strikes me as a very curious fact, that within the last two months -Mr. Lisle and Miss Denis have been concerned in two most thrilling -adventures: they were nearly drowned coming from North Bay—at least, -so _she_ says—and now they have been all but murdered; a remarkable -coincidence, and really very funny." - -"Funny! Miss Caggett. I think it would scarcely strike any one else in -a humorous light. It was a mere chance, and a lucky one for Miss Denis, -that she had Lisle to stand by her on both occasions." - -"She is welcome to him, as far as I'm concerned," retorted the young -lady waspishly. - -Dr. Malone grinned and thought of "sour grapes," and wondered if Miss -Denis was equally welcome to Apollo Quentin. - -All the shelling party were now assembled about the deck awaiting -a boat, which had been signalled for from Viper, to take charge of -the criminal. Mrs. Creery was still volubly expounding to one or two -listeners; Helen was sitting down with her face well averted from the -direction of Aboo, who, guarded by brother-prisoners (boatmen), stood -near the bulwarks, looking the very incarnation of impotent fury and -sullen despair. His late opponent remained somewhat aloof from the -crowd, talking to Mr. Latimer; he bore evident traces of the recent -deadly struggle, and leant against the weather-beaten wheel-house, as -if he was glad of its support. It was many a year since the deck of the -old wreck had carried such a crowd of passengers. After a considerable -delay the expected boat and warders arrived, and the writhing, -gibbering criminal was despatched in chains to Viper, having previously -made several frantic efforts to throw himself into the sea. Mr. Lisle -departed in his own little skiff, accompanied by Dr. Malone and the -brown dog, and the remainder of the company re-embarked and rowed back -to Ross in unwonted silence; there was no more singing, and even Mrs. -Creery was unusually piano. Nip, the immediate cause of the search -and the strife, and who had appeared in quite a casual manner at the -last moment, now sat in his mistress's lap, the picture of dignified -satisfaction—undoubtedly _he_ considered himself the hero of the hour. - - - - -CHAPTER XIV. - -"MR. LISLE HAS GIVEN ME A RING." - - "Vouchsafe to wear this ring." - - _Richard III._ - - -FOR several days after this startling occurrence, Miss Denis did not -appear in public. She would gladly have denied herself to all visitors -save Mrs. Home; but who could shut out Mrs. Creery? She penetrated -to Helen's room, and from thence issued daily bulletins to the whole -station in this style,— - -"The girl was knocked up; her nerves were unstrung. She was in a very -weak state. She required rousing!" - -Miss Caggett also forced her way in, and imparted to her friends and -acquaintances "that, from what she saw of the invalid, it would never -surprise _her_ to hear that there was insanity in the Denis family, and -SHE would not be astonished if she was going off her head!" - -This affair had given Mrs. Creery something fresh to talk about, and -she related the whole story at least thrice separately to every one -in Ross, and as often as she had the opportunity to the people from -the out-stations. On each occasion she added a little touch here, and -detail there, till by the end of a week it was as thrilling a narrative -as any one would wish to hear. Mrs. Creery flattered herself that she -told a story uncommonly well; so also said public opinion—but then -their reading of the word _story_ was not exactly the same as hers. She -had brought herself to believe that she had been the only person on -the wreck who had evinced any presence of mind, and it would take very -little to persuade her that she herself had been in personal conflict -with Aboo—Aboo who had been duly hanged at Viper on the succeeding -Monday morning! She now commenced all conversations with,— - -"Of course you have heard of my terrible adventure on the wreck? and -the marvellous escape we all had?" and then, before she could be -interrupted, the rehearsal was in full swing. This intrepid, loquacious -lady entirely ignored Mr. Lisle, of whom Dr. Malone reported that -he was nearly convalescent, the cuts from Aboo's knife were healing -rapidly, and that he was going about as usual at Aberdeen. - -Mr. Lisle was among Helen's first visitors; and he came alone. He wore -his arm in a sling—this gave him quite an interesting aspect,—and -carried a small parcel in his hand. He was struck, as he entered the -drawing-room, with Miss Denis's altered appearance; her face was thin -and white, and her eyes had a startled, sunken look. They shook hands -in silence, and for quite a moment neither of them spoke. At last he -said,— - -"I hope you are all right again?" - -"Yes, thank you. And your arm?" - -"Is well; this sling is only Malone's humbug. I have heard of you daily -from him—our mutual medical attendant, you know—and would have been -over before, only he said you saw no one. I have brought you this." - -"What is it? Oh, my sketch!" - -"Yes, I fetched it from the wreck. I thought you might not like to lose -it." - -"Oh, I don't care! I had forgotten it. But how _could_ you go back to -that horrible place?" and she shuddered visibly. - -"Why not?" - -She did not answer this question, but said in a rather husky voice,— - -"Mr. Lisle, you remember what you said to papa. That was absurd. Only -for you I would not be sitting here now. No," raising her hand with a -deprecatory gesture as she saw that he was about to speak, "if you had -not come that time, I know in another moment I would have been dead." - -"Was it so bad as all that? Well, but Miss Denis, that I should drag -that fellow off was a matter of course—that's understood. Do you think -any man would stand by and see that brute throttle a girl before his -face? But that you should interfere in my behalf was quite a different -affair—you know that. My life hung on a thread—I believe I was within -ten seconds of eternity. If you had not made that dash when you did, I -should have been a dead man. I owe my life to your courage." - -"Courage! Oh, if you only knew how little I deserve the word! You would -not believe what a miserable coward I am. I actually tremble in the -dark; I dread to open a door—much less to look round a corner; in -every shadow I seem to see _Aboo's face_. I never, never could have -believed that in so short a time I should have sunk to such an abject -condition." - -"You will get over it all right. It is the reaction. You will soon -forget it all," he answered reassuringly. - -"I wish I could—all but your share in it. I shall never forget that!" - -"Miss Denis," he answered gravely, "I am not good at making speeches, -like—" he was going to add Quentin, but substituted—"other people; -but whatever I say, I mean. I shall always remember that you stood by -me at a great crisis, just as a man might have done. If you were a man, -I would ask you to be my friend for life—and I am not a fellow of many -friends—but as it is—" and he hesitated. - -"But as it is," she was the only girl he had ever cared two straws -about, and she was in love with James Quentin. - -As it was, she repeated, surprised at this sudden pause, "I shall be -very glad to be your friend all the same." Then, with a sudden pang of -apprehension lest she had been over-bold, she blushed crimson, and came -to a full stop. - -"Agreed, Miss Denis. If you ever want a friend—I speak in the fullest -sense of the word—remember our bargain, and that you have one in me." - -The conversation had become so extremely personal that Helen was glad -to change it rather abruptly by saying,— - -"I have something here belonging to you," opening her work-basket as -she spoke, and carefully unfolding from some tissue-paper the ring from -the wreck. - -He received it from her in silence, turned it over several times in the -palm of his hand, and seemed to waver about something. At last he said -with an evident effort,— - -"Would you think me very presumptuous if I asked you to keep it?" - -The young lady looked at him with startled eyes and vivid colour. - -What did he mean? - -Observing her bewilderment, he added quickly,— - -"Only as a memento of last Thursday—not to recall the whole hateful -business, but just to remind you," and he stammered—"of—a friend." - -"I should like to have it, thank you; and I shall always keep it," she -replied, "and value it very much. Papa!" to her father, who had just -entered the room, "look here—Mr. Lisle has given me a ring!" - -Colonel Denis started visibly, and was not unnaturally a good deal -amazed at this somewhat suggestive announcement. He liked Lisle far -better than Quentin. Despite of the latter's fascinating manners to -most, he scarcely noticed Colonel Denis during his constant visits; he -considered him a slow old buffer, left him to walk behind, elbowed him -out of the conversations, and altogether folded him up, and put him by. -Helen's parent was an easy-going gentleman, but he had his feelings, -and he did not care for Apollo, and he liked his pauper-friend Lisle; -nevertheless he was not prepared to give him Helen—indeed, he had -never dreamt of him as being one of her cloud of admirers, and he -looked very blank indeed to hear his daughter say, "Mr. Lisle has given -me a ring!" and saying it with such supreme _sang-froid_, as if it were -a matter of course! - -Mr. Lisle read his host's face like a book, and saw that, for once in -his life, he was quite capable of uttering the word "No." - -"It is only a queer old ring that I found on the wreck," he hastened -to explain. "It fell out from behind the wainscoting in the cabin, -and your daughter was looking at it, and in the subsequent confusion -carried it away. She wished to restore it to me now, but I have been -asking her to do me the honour of keeping it, as——" - -"Certainly, certainly," interrupted the elder gentleman, greatly -relieved; "and so she shall, so she shall." - -"It just fits me, papa," she said, slipping it on her third finger, and -holding it up for approval. - -The two men gazed at it in silence, and made no verbal remark, but the -same thought occurred to both—assuredly that strange old ring had -never graced a prettier hand! - -When Mr. Lisle had taken his departure, Colonel Denis said to his -daughter, as he picked up the _Pioneer_,— - -"I like that fellow—uncommonly; there is no nonsense about _him_." - -"So you should, papa, if you put any value on me." - -"That is a thing apart, my dear. But I had always a fancy for Lisle, -for he reminds me of a very old friend of mine, who was killed in the -Mutiny. His name was not Lisle, but Redmond; but, all the same, the -likeness is something extraordinary, especially about the eyes—and -Lisle has his very laugh!" - -"Which you do not often hear," remarked his daughter. "I'm sure Mr. -Lisle is a gentleman by birth,—no matter what Mrs. Creery says." - -"What does she say?" - -"That she is sure his mother was a Portuguese half-caste from -Chittagong." - -"She be blessed!" angrily. "Lisle may have empty pockets, but he has -good blood in his veins." - -"Mrs. Creery also says she notices——" - -"She notices everything! If any one has a button off their glove, she -proclaims it on the house-top," rattling his paper irritably. - -"I declare, papa!" pausing in the act of rubbing up the ring with her -handkerchief, "What do you think is in this ring?" - -"A finger, of course," without lifting his head. - -"No, you dear, silly old gentleman, but a motto, and I believe I can -make it out. Listen to this." - -Colonel Denis looked over his paper, now all attention. - -"It is rather faint, but," holding it close to her eye, "the first is a -big L. Love—me—Love me—and leave—" - -"Love me and leave!" cried her father. "A pretty motto, truly! I could -do better than that myself!" - -"Wait, here's another word. Now I have it; here it is, 'Love me and -leave me not.'" - -"Show it!" holding out his hand. "It's one of those old posy rings. -Yes, there is a motto, but it was not intended for you, my young -lady——" - -"Of course not, papa," colouring. "Mr. Lisle did not even see it." (We -would not be so sure of that.) - -"I could not make out what you meant, Nell, when you told me so -suddenly that he had given you a ring—I declare, I fancied for a -second that—that—but of course it was utter nonsense,—and, of all -people, LISLE!" - - - - -CHAPTER XV. - -"WHY NOT?" - - "Friendship is constant in all things, save in the office and affairs - of love." - - _Shakespeare._ - - -THINGS went on much as usual after this at Port Blair; there were no -more tragedies, nothing startling to record, and people had quietly -settled themselves down to wonder if Lizzie Caggett would catch Dr. -Malone, and when the Quentin and Denis engagement would be given out? - -There had been the ordinary settlement amusements, including a grand -picnic to Mount Harriet (the last place Lord Mayo visited before he -was stabbed on the pier below). Mount Harriet was a very high hill, -covered with trees and dense jungle, and on the top of it was situated -the general's country bungalow. He did not often live there himself, -but it was in constant demand by people who "wanted a change," also -for honeymoons and picnics. From the summit of the hill, there was a -magnificent view of inland winding water, islands, mountains, and sea; -but this view was only to be obtained by a steady two-mile climb from -the pier, and an elephant, Jampanees (men carrying chairs), and two -ponies, awaited the picnic party. - -The elephant at Mount Harriet was a character; he was fifty years of -age, and his name was "Chootie;" once upon a time he had got tired of -drawing timber, and slaving for the Indian Government, and had coolly -taken a holiday and gone off into the bush, where he had remained -for three whole years. However, here he was, caught and once more in -harness, waiting very discontentedly at the foot of the hill, with a -structure on his back resembling an Irish jarvey, minus wheels, which -was destined to carry six passengers. - -Helen and Lizzie Caggett, with happy Dr. Malone between them, went on -one side; Mrs. Creery, Mr. Quentin and Mrs. Home on the other, and -presently they started off at quite a brisk pace; but the day was hot, -the hill-road was rugged, and "Chootie" paused, like a human being, -and seemed to express a wish to contemplate the landscape. His mahout -expostulated in the strongest language (Hindustani). "What did he -want?—water? Then he was not going to get water—pig that he was!" -Nevertheless he exhausted his vocabulary in vain. Vainly did he revile -Chootie's ancestors in libellous terms; Chootie remained inflexible, -until two policemen armed with very stout sticks arrived, and whacked -him with might and main, and once more he started off again, and -kept up a promising walk for nearly half a mile; and now the praises -lavished on him by his doating driver were even sweeter than new honey, -but alas! he was praised too soon. Without the slightest warning, he -suddenly plunged off the road down a place as steep as the side of, not -a house—but a church; deaf to Mrs. Creery's screams and the mahout's -imprecations! He had happened to notice a banana tree—he was extremely -partial to bananas!—and he made his way up to it, tore off all the -branches within his reach, and devoured them with as much deliberation -and satisfaction, as if there were not seven furious, frightened, -howling, screaming human beings seated on his back. He flatly refused -to stir until he chose! The policemen were not within sight, and he -seemed to be tossing a halfpenny in his own mind, as to whether he -would go for a ramble through the jungle or return to the path of duty -which led to Mount Harriet and his afternoon rice. The afternoon rice -had it, and he accordingly strolled back, nearly tearing his load off -the howdah as he passed under big branches—but that he evidently -considered was entirely their affair—and then climbed in a leisurely -manner up the steep bank he had recently descended, and resumed the -public road,—merely stopping now and then, to snatch some tempting -morsel, or to turn round and round in a very disagreeable fashion. The -fact was he was not accustomed to society, nor to carrying a load of -pleasure-seekers, and he did not like it. Dragging timber and conveying -stores was far more to his taste, and, besides this, Mrs. Creery's -squeals, and her lively green umbrella, annoyed him excessively; he had -taken a special dislike to her;—Chootie was not an amiable elephant, -and would have thoroughly enjoyed tossing the lady with his trunk—and -stamping on her subsequently. At last the party found themselves in -front of the Mount Harriet bungalow, to their great relief and delight, -and scrambled down a ladder, for of course, their late conveyance would -not condescend to kneel. Mrs. Creery, once safe on _terra firma_, -was both bold and furious; and, standing on the steps, harangued the -mahout in Hindustani on the enormity of the elephant's behaviour. -She called him all the epithets she could immediately bring to mind, -said she would complain to the General, and have him shipped to the -Nicobars—that he was an ugly, unruly, untamed brute! - -Naturally the elephant understood every word of this! (Hindustani is -to them, as it were, their native language.) He calmly waited till -the irate lady had said her say and furled (oh, foolish dame!) her -umbrella; and then he slowly turned his trunk in her direction like a -hose; there was a "whish," and instantly she and her elegant costume -were drenched from head to foot in dirty water. What a spectacle -she was! What a scene ensued! Vainly she fled; the wetting was an -accomplished fact; it had been very sudden, and disastrously complete. -Dr. Malone actually lay down and rolled in the grass, like the rude -uncivilized Irish savage that he was; Miss Caggett was absolutely -hysterical, and screamed like a peacock. Helen and Mrs. Home, with -difficulty restraining themselves, endeavoured to ameliorate the -condition of the unhappy lady. They escorted her inside the bungalow, -helped her to remove her gown, gloves, and hat; she was for once in -her life actually too angry to _speak_—she wept. Her dress had to -be dispatched to the cook-house to be washed and dried, and she, of -course, was in consequence prevented from taking the head of the -table, and had to have her meal sent out to her in the retirement of -the bedroom, where she discussed it _alone_. And the worst of it was, -that she met with but little real sympathy. When she reappeared once -more in public, she was met with wreathed smiles and broad grins. -Such is friendship! The company wandered about the hill after dinner, -and Helen, thinking to checkmate James Quentin for once, offered her -society to Dr. Parkes, who was only too pleased to accompany her—as -long as she did not go too far, and there was no climbing. To punish -Miss Denis for her want of taste, Apollo once more devoted himself to -Lizzie,—being under the foolish impression that, in so doing, he was -searing Helen's very soul. It was soon tea-time; there was no moon, -for a wonder; people had to depend on the stars and the fire-flies, -and Mrs. Creery,—who had had a most disagreeable day,—gave the -signal for an early departure. They all descended by a long, steep, -winding pathway through the jungle, instead of by the more public -road, as their boats were awaiting them at Hopetown pier; Mrs. Creery -led the van, in a jampan carried by four coolies—and, indeed, all -the ladies preferred this hum-drum mode of transport to trusting -themselves again to "Chootie," who was the bearer of some half-dozen -adventurous spirits, whom he took right through the jungle, thereby -reducing their garments to rags, and covering their faces with quite -a pretty pattern of scratches! Mr. Quentin travelled per jampan, but -Mr. Lisle walked, and considered that he had much the best of it; so -he had—for he walked at Helen Denis' right hand, and they both found -this by far the most delightful part of the day!—whether this was -due to the surrounding influences, or to each other's society, I will -leave an open question. About a dozen ticket-of-leave men accompanied -the procession with flaring lights, as it wound down and down the -rugged pathway through the forest, and gave the whole scene a fantastic -and picturesque appearance. It was a lovely night, though moonless; -millions of silent stars spangled the heavens, millions of fire-flies -twinkled in the jungle. Helen never forgot that balmy tropical evening, -with the glow of torches illuminating the dark, luxuriant underwood, -the scent of the flowers, and the faint sound of the sea. - -Mr. Lisle realized as he descended that steep hill-path, that he was -deeply in for it at last, and in love with this Helen Denis, helplessly -in love—hopelessly in love—for he might not speak, nor ever "tell his -love;" he could only play the part of confidant to James Quentin, and, -perchance, the thankless _rôle_ of best man! - -Little did he guess that the young lady at his side was not wholly -indifferent to him; that her blushes, when he appeared with Jim, were -to be put down to his own, not to his companion's credit; that his mere -presence had the curious effect of abstracting the interest from every -one else, as far as she was concerned—though, to be candid, she never -admitted this tell-tale fact to herself. A gleam of the truth, a ray -of rapture, came to Gilbert Lisle by the flash of one of those flaming -torches,—was it imaginary? or was it not? She smiled on him, as, he -believed, a girl only smiles on a man she cares for—and yet Jim was -absent—Jim was yards behind, a leaden burden to his lagging bearers. - -A wild, ecstatic idea flashed through his mind, that she might—might -not care for Quentin, after all! But this notion was speedily -extinguished by his friend, who had noticed Lisle in attendance on -Miss Denis on the way down the hill,—noticed that they stood a little -apart on the pier before embarking, and neither "liked nor loved the -thing he saw!" Lisle the invulnerable was proof no longer. Lisle was a -good-looking fellow, despite his shabby clothes and sunburnt skin. Yes, -he had somewhat overlooked that fact. But Lisle was not a ladies' man, -and he was a man of honour, and Mr. Quentin fully determined to give -him to understand that he must not trespass on _his_ preserves. Miss -Denis belonged exclusively to him. And now let us privately examine Mr. -Quentin's mind. Briefly stated, he did not "mean anything," in other -words, he did not wish to marry her now—_that_ fevered dream was past. -He was not an atom in love with her either; she was too irresponsive, -and, in fact, too—as he expressed it to himself—"stupid." Between -ourselves, if any wandering damsel had appeared upon the scene, he was -ready to whistle Miss Denis down the wind at once! But damsels were -rare at Ross—and he still admired her greatly; he did not mean to -"drop" her, till he went away, and he intended to take precious good -care that no one should have it in their power to say that _she_ had -dropped him—much less, abandoned him for another. His character as a -lady-killer was at stake; he could not, and would not, lose what was as -precious to him as the very breath of his nostrils. - -He accordingly took an early opportunity of giving Lisle what he called -"a bit of a hint." - -"I saw you making yourself very agreeable to the fair Helen yesterday," -he remarked with affected _bonhomie_. "You mustn't make yourself too -agreeable, you know!" - -"Why not?" demanded his companion with exasperating composure. - -"Why, not? My dear fellow, the idea of your asking _me_ such a -question! You know very well why not." - -"Am I to understand that she is engaged to you?" - -Mr. Quentin hated these direct questions, and why should Lisle look at -him as if he were a witness that he was examining on his oath? - -"What is it to you?" he returned evasively. "Come now, Lisle," leaning -on his elbow, and smiling into the other's face with one of his most -insinuating expressions. - -"Answer my question first," roughly. - -"Well, I will." - -Word fencing was easy to him, and he never thought it any harm to -dissemble with a woman, and juggle his sentences so that one almost -neutralized another; _they_ were fair game, but a man was different. -With men he could be frank enough—firstly, because he had more respect -for his own sex; and secondly, because their eyes were not likely to be -blinded by love, admiration, or vanity. Meanwhile, here was Lisle, an -obstinate, downright fellow, sternly waiting for his reply. An answer -he must have, so he made a bold plunge, and said, with lowered eyelids -and in a confidential voice,— - -"What I tell you is strictly masonic, mind—but I know you are to be -depended on. There is no actual engagement as yet between Helen and -me—but there is an understanding!" - -"I confess, the distinction is too subtle for me. Pray explain it!" - -"How can I go to her father whilst my money affairs are in such a -confounded muddle? Until I can do that, we cannot be what you call -engaged. Do you see?" - -"I see. But there is one thing I fail to see—that Miss Denis treats -you differently to any one else, or as if she were attached to you—in -fact, latterly, it has struck me that she rather avoids you than -otherwise!" - -This was a facer, but his companion was equal to the occasion. "That is -easily explained," he replied. "She is the very shyest girl that you -ever saw—in public." - -Mr. Quentin thoroughly understood the art of innuendo, and the -management of the various inflections of the human voice. He was a -matchless amateur "star," and could "act" off, as well as on the stage. - -After receiving this confidence, Mr. Lisle was silent; he leant back in -his chair, and nearly bit his cigar in two. That last speech of Jim's -had made him feel what the Americans call "_real_ bad." A very long gap -in the conversation ensued, and then he, as it were, roused himself -once more,— - -"Then she _is_ engaged to you!" - -"No, not quite, not altogether—but our position is such, that no man -of honour, knowing it, would take advantage of the situation,—would -he?" - -"No—of course not." - -And with this admission the subject dropped. - -Mr. Quentin had succeeded brilliantly. He had assured Lisle that he -was not engaged; and yet he had impressed him with the fact that an -engagement existed—indeed, he had almost persuaded _himself_, that -there was an understanding between him and Helen! "Understanding" was -a good, useful, elastic word; it might mean an understanding to play -tennis, to sit next each other at an afternoon tea, or to share the -same umbrella! - -"No, no, Mr. Gilbert Lisle," he said to himself exultantly, as he -watched the other's gloomy face, "I'm not just going to let you cut me -out—not if I _know_ it. 'Paws off, Pompey.'" - - - - -CHAPTER XVI. - -"STOLEN FROM THE SEA!" - - "Love, whose month is ever May, - Spied a blossom passing fair." - - _Much Ado About Nothing._ - - -"ANOTHER fine, sunshiny day," is naturally of common recurrence in -the East, and it was yet another magnificent afternoon at Ross—very -bright, very warm, and very still. Underneath the long wooden pier -vast shoals of little silver sardines were hurrying through the water, -pursued by a greedy dolphin, and leaping now and then in a glittering -shower into the air to escape his voracious jaws. Coal-black, stunted -Andamanese were here and there squatting on the rocks, patiently -angling with the most primitive of tackle, and two or three policemen, -in roomy blue tunics and portentous turbans, were gossiping together -about rupees and rice. Some half-dozen soldiers, with open coats and -pipe in mouth, sat, with their legs dangling over the pier, fishing. -Further on, with folded arms, and wistful eyes, a tall gaunt Bengalee -stood, aloof and alone. He was a zemindar from Oude, and had been in -the settlement since 1858 (an ominous date); now he was the holder -of a ticket, was free to open a shop in the bazaar, and make a rapid -fortune; free to accept a plot of the most fertile ground on the -face of the globe, free to marry a convict woman, free within the -settlement, but there his liberty ended. His body is imprisoned, but -who can chain the mind? His is far away beyond those dim, blue islands, -and the shining "Kala Panee!" In imagination he now stands, not upon -Ross pier, but on wide-stretching plains far north; his horizon is -bounded by magnificent forest trees, and topes of fragrant mangoes: -once more he sees his native village, and the familiar well, his plot -of land, his home; just as he saw it twenty years ago. But too well -does he remember every inmate of those small, white-washed hovels; -their faces are before him now—for, alas! what has been left to _him_ -but memory? Bitterly has he expiated those few frenzied weeks, when -for a brief space, he and his neighbours felt that they had broken the -accursed yoke, and trampled it beneath their feet—bitterer, ten times, -is it to know that he was sold and betrayed by his own familiar friend! - -At this maddening recollection, a kind of convulsive spasm contracts -his features, and he mutters fiercely in his beard. He would -gladly—nay, gratefully—give all that remains to him of life, just to -have "Ram Sing" at his mercy for one short moment—ay, but one! These -are some of the thoughts that flit through his mind, as he stands apart -with folded arms, and his dark, hawk-like countenance immovably bent -on the sea, deaf to the hoarse, loud laughter of Tommy Atkins, who -has had a good "take"—to the screeching home-bound peacocks, and the -discordant yells of the Andamanese at play. - -They have no tragic memories, this group of young men coming down the -pier in tennis garb; or, if they have, their faces much belie them—Mr. -Quentin, Captain Rodney, Mr. Reid, and Dr. Malone (whose smooth, fair -skin, and sandy hair disavow his thirty summers). - -"I told you so!" he exclaimed, as he hitched himself up on the edge of -the pier. "They are all gone out, every man Jack of them—the Creerys, -the Homes, Dr. Parkes, and Mr. Latimer, not to speak of our two young -ladies. They have gone down to Chatham to take tea with Mrs. Graham, -and the island is a desert!" - -"Fancy going three miles by water for a cup of hot water," said Mr. -Quentin derisively; "but women will go _anywhere_ for tea. Where are -Jones and Lea?" he inquired. - -"Where you ought to be, my boy: up decorating the mess for the dance -this evening." - -"Oh!" rather grandly, "I sent my butler over, and lots of flowers." - -"If we were all to do that, I wonder 'what like it would be,' as they -say in your native land, Reid?" remarked Dr. Malone. "And where is -Green?" - -"Out fishing with Lisle," replied Captain Rodney. "And, ahem! talk of -angels, here they come," as at this moment a sailing-boat suddenly shot -round a point and made for the pier. - -"I've not seen Lisle for weeks!" remarked Dr. Malone; "not since the -picnic on Mount Harriet. What has he been up to?"—to Mr. Quentin. - -"Oh! he only enjoys society by fits and starts, and a little of it goes -a long way with him." - -"Hullo, you fellows!" hailed the doctor, leaning half his long body -over the railings, "any luck?" - -"Luck? I should just think so!" returned Lisle, standing up. "Two -bottle-nosed sharks, a conger-eel, a sword-fish, and any quantity of -sea-monsters, name and tribe unknown." - -"Is that all?" - -"No, not all. Green caught about a dozen crabs going out." - -"Oh! now I say," expostulated Mr. Green, a fair young subaltern about -six months from Sandhurst, "it was those beastly oars." - -"There was an animal like a sea-cow that nearly towed us over to -Burmah," said Mr. Lisle, as he came up the steps, "and finally went off -with all the tackle." - -"The sea serpent, of course!" ejaculated Dr. Malone. "And, by-the-way, -how is it that we have not seen you for a month of Sundays, eh? Coming -to the ball to-night?" - -"Ball! what ball? How can there be one without ladies?" - -"Nonsense, man alive! what are you talking about? Haven't we -seventeen?" putting his hat under his arm and commencing to count on -his fingers. "There is Mrs. King, Mrs. Graham, Mrs. Manners—the widow -from Viper—Mrs. Creery——" - -"Mrs. Creery! You may as well say Mrs. Caggett while you are about it." - -"I may _not_. Mrs. Creery is a grand woman to dance, and you will see -her and your humble servant taking the floor in style before you are -many hours older! If all the ladies put in an appearance, and do their -duty, we shall have an A1 dance. Of course you are coming?" - -"No," put in Mr. Quentin, rather quickly. "How could you ask him? -Does he look like a dancing man? Here are the fish coming up. What -whoppers!" turning towards the steps. - -"And here comes something else!" exclaimed the doctor, pointing to -a white sail approaching the island. "It's easy to see what _you_ -have come down for, my boy!" to Apollo, who smiled significantly, and -accepted the soft impeachment without demur. - -"Quentin is a lucky fellow, isn't he?" said Mr. Green, addressing -himself to Mr. Lisle with all the enthusiasm of ignorance. "He has had -it all his own way from the first; none of us were in it! And although -our circle of ladies _is_ small, I'll venture to say we could show a -beauty against Madras or Rangoon; yes, and I'll throw in Calcutta, too! -I'll back 'La Belle Hélène' against anything they like to enter, for -pace, shape and looks!" - -Here Mr. Lisle turned upon his heel and walked away. - -"What's up? What's the matter, eh?" demanded the youth of Mr. Quentin, -who was now gazing abstractedly at the approaching boat, with a -cigarette between his teeth. - -"Oh, he did not approve of your conversation; he does not think ladies -should be talked about, and all that sort of rubbish." - -"Pooh; why not?—and was I not praising her up to the skies? What more -could I have said? And I'm sure if you don't mind, _he_ need not!" - -"No, but he did," remarked Dr. Malone. "He looked capable just now of -tossing you out as a sort of light supper to the sharks, my little C. -Green!" - -"And a very light meal it would be," said Mr. Green with a broad grin. -"Nothing but clothes and bones. Here comes Miss Caggett and a whole lot -of people, and won't she just walk into _us_ for not decorating the -mess!" - -At this instant Miss Caggett and some half-dozen satellites appeared -in view, and behind her, walking with Dr. Parkes, came a lady we have -never seen before, Mrs. Durand, who had only that morning returned to -the settlement. - -"Well," cried the sprightly Lizzie, surveying the guilty group with -great dignity, "I call this _pretty_ behaviour! What a lazy, selfish, -good-for-nothing set!" beginning piano, and ending crescendo. - -Dr. Malone nodded his head like a mandarin at each of these adjectives, -and declared,— - -"So they _are_, Miss Caggett, so they are. I quite agree with you." - -The young lady merely darted a scornful glance in his direction, and -proceeded,— - -"Mr. Quentin, well, I've given you up long ago. Mr. Green, I cannot -say much to _you_, when grown-up people set you such an example" (a -back-handed slap at Mr. C. Green's tender years). "Mr. Lisle, you here? -and pray what have you got to say for yourself? What is your excuse?" - -"My excuse," coming forward and doffing his hat, "is, that I have no -more idea of decorating a room than one of the settlement elephants—in -fact, my genius is of a destructive, rather than of a constructive -order. But I am always prepared to appreciate other people's handiwork." - -"Well, you _are_ cool," staring at him for a second in scornful silence. - -"Now, Dr. Malone," pointing at him with her parasol, "let us hear what -you have got to say for yourself." - -Dr. Malone rested his chin on the top of his tennis-bat, and calmly -contemplated his fair questioner in a somewhat dreamy fashion, and then -was understood to say,— - -"That as long as Miss Caggett was in a ball-room, any other decoration -was quite superfluous!" - -To which Miss Caggett responded by rapping him on the knuckles with the -handle of her sunshade, and saying,— - -"Blarney!" - -Meanwhile Mrs. Durand had joined the group, and now received a very -warm welcome. It was easy to see that she was a popular person at Port -Blair. She was upwards of thirty, with a full but very erect figure, -smiling dark eyes, good features, and white teeth, the upper row of -which she showed very much as she talked. She wore a hat with a dark -blue veil, a pretty cambric dress, and carried a red parasol over her -arm (a grand landmark, that same parasol, for Mrs. Creery). - -"Great events never happen alone!" quoth Dr. Malone, bowing over his -bat. "Here, in one day, we have the mail in, the full moon, the ball, -and Mrs. Durand! It is quite needless to inquire after Mrs. Durand's -health?" - -Mr. Quentin moved forward to accost the lady, his large person having -hitherto entirely concealed his friend, and as he moved, Mrs. Durand's -eyes fell upon Gilbert Lisle. She opened them very wide, shut them, and -opened them once more, and said in a slow, staccato voice,— - -"I believe I am not dreaming, and that I see Mr. Lisle. Mr. Lisle," -holding out a plump and eager hand, "what on _earth_ brings _you_ here?" - -Precisely what every one wanted to know. - -Mrs. Durand had a habit of laying great stress on some of her words, -and she uttered the word earth with extraordinary emphasis. - -Her acquaintance, upon whom all eyes were now riveted, smiled, shook -hands, muttered incoherently, and contrived, by some skilful manœuvre, -to draw the lady from the centre of the crowd. - -"I never was so amazed in my life!" she reiterated. "What put it into -your head to come here, of all places?" - -"Oh, I wanted to see something out of the common, and to enlarge my -ideas." - -"Indeed, I did not know that they required extension! One could -understand our being here—we are sent, like the convicts; but -outsiders—and, of all people, you!" - -"There is first-class fishing to be had, and boating, and all that sort -of thing; and the scenery is perfect," he answered. - -"Granted—and pray how long have you been at Port Blair?" - -"I came in July," he replied, rather apologetically. - -"July!" she echoed, "and this is November!—_five_ months! And may I -ask what is the attraction, besides sailing and sharks?" - -"The unconventional life, the temporary escape from politics and post -cards, express trains, telegrams, and the bores of one's acquaintance." - -"Well, every one to their taste, of course! You like Port Blair, give -_me_ park Lane. As to politics, we have our politics here. Have you not -discovered that we are an absolute monarchy?" - -"Yes," smiling; "but, alas! I am not in favour at court." - -"No? neither am I. I'm in the Opposition. I'm one of the reds," -laughing, and displaying all her teeth. "Here are all these people -coming back, and I must go; I have a great deal to do at home. -Remember, that I shall expect to see you very often—_sans cérémonie_. -Oh, I suppose that tall girl is Miss Denis? Charlie says she is -uncommonly pretty, and not spoiled _yet_. By the way," pausing, and -looking at him significantly, "I wonder if you have been losing your -heart, as well as enlarging your ideas?" - -"Do I ever lose my heart?" he asked. "Am I an inflammable person?" - -"No, indeed—quite the reverse; warranted not to ignite, I should say," -shaking her head. "And now I really must be going, or Mrs. Creery will -catch me, and cross-examine me. Of course, we shall meet this evening?" -Mr. Lisle walked with her to the end of the pier, bending towards her, -and apparently speaking with unusual earnestness, as Miss Caggett -remarked. At the gate, he and the lady parted, he taking off his hat, -she waving her hand towards him twice, as if to enforce some special -injunction. - -The gig was now alongside the steps, and its late passengers had -ascended to the pier. Miss Denis was the last to leave the boat, and -was at once surrounded by Mr. Quentin, Dr. Malone, Captain Rodney, and -Mr. Green, a faithless quartette, who all quitted Miss Caggett in a -body. - -"Well, Miss Denis," said Mr. Green, "I am glad to see that you have -not forgotten the button-hole I asked you to bring me," pointing to a -flower in the front of her dress. - -"Oh, this!" taking it out and twirling it carelessly in her fingers. -"I certainly did not gather it for your adornment, but still, if you -like," half tendering it; but becoming conscious of Mr. Quentin's -greedy, outstretched hand, she paused. - -"You surely would not?" he began pathetically. - -"No, I would _not_, certainly not. I will give it to the sea," and -suiting the action to the word, she tossed it over the railings into -the water. - -"Oh, Miss Denis," exclaimed Mr. Green with a groan, "how could you -trifle with my feelings in such a manner? How could you raise me to a -pinnacle of happiness, and cast me down to the depths of despair? Have -you no conscience?" - -"It would have been a precedent," she answered gaily. "I know you only -too well—you would have demanded a bouquet every time I returned to -the island." - -Here, for the first time, her eyes fell upon Mr. Lisle, who had now -joined the outer circle—Mr. Lisle, whom she had not seen for six -weeks. She coloured with astonishment, and accorded him rather a stiff -little bow. He did not come forward, but contented himself with merely -raising his hat, and remaining in the background. - -Helen had once rather timidly asked after him, from Mr. Quentin (it -seemed so strange, that he had never been over to Ross, since the day -of the picnic, when they had made that never-to-be-forgotten expedition -down the mountain, escorted by torches and fire-flies). - -To Miss Denis's somewhat faltering question, Mr. Quentin had brusquely -replied "that Lisle had on one of his sulky fits, and the chances were, -he would not come over to Ross again—he was an odd, unsociable, surly -sort of beggar!" - -Apparently he had now recovered from the sulks; for there he stood, -looking as sunburnt, as shabby, and as self-possessed as ever! - -"We had a pleasant sail," remarked Mrs. Creery, "but I could not go in -at Chatham on account of Nip! Mrs. Graham makes such a fuss about that -hideous puppy of hers—and, after all, it's only Nip's play! Of course, -I could not leave the poor darling in the boat by himself, so we had -our tea sent out to us, and were very happy all the same," hugging him -as she spoke with sudden rapture. - -But Nip (whose _play_ was death to other dogs) stiffened his spine, -and threw back his head; he evidently considered public endearments -inconsistent with personal dignity. He weighed fully twenty-four -pounds, and why Mrs. Creery carried an animal who had the excellent use -of his four legs, was best known to herself. - -As she proceeded up the pier, with his head hanging over her shoulder, -he surveyed Dr. Malone and Lisle, who walked behind him, with -unconcealed contempt. - -"What a fool she makes of herself about that beast!" muttered the -former. "He despises _us_ for not being carried too. I see it in his -eye! Brute! I'd like to vivisect him." - -"Only imagine!" exclaimed Miss Caggett suddenly, "Miss Denis has never -been to a dance in her life!—and," giggling affectedly, "never danced -with any but _girls_." - -"And remember," said Jim Quentin, impressively turning and speaking to -Helen in a tender undertone (for the benefit of his friend), "that you -have given _me_ the promise of the first waltz." - -The party had now reached a little square, from whence their various -paths diverged. - -"You wait for me on the pier like a good fellow," he said to his -companion. "I am just going to walk home with Miss Denis." - -Every one now departed in different directions, excepting Mrs. Creery, -who remained behind at the cross-roads, for a moment, and waving her -green umbrella, called after them authoritatively,— - -"Now mind that none of you are _late_ this evening!—especially you -men!" - - * * * * * - -Mr. Lisle went slowly back to the pier; it was almost deserted now. -Tommy Atkins had adjourned to his well-earned supper, the jailer to his -rice, the Andamanese to unknown horrors. The zemindar is alone—alone -he stands, and sees what is to him another wasted sun sink into the sea -like a ball of crimson fire! Apparently he is unconscious of a figure, -who comes and leans over the railings, with his eyes fixed abstractedly -on the sea, till with a sudden flash they become riveted on something, -scarcely deserving such eager inspection—merely a floating flower! -As Gilbert Lisle gazed, he was the prey of sore temptation. Surely, he -argued with himself, there would be no harm in picking up a castaway -lily, even Quentin would hardly grudge him that, and _he_ might as -well have it as the sea! Then he turned half away, as if thrusting the -impulse from him (the convict now noticed him for the first time); but -the flower was potent, and drew him back; he leant his arms on the -railings, and stared at it steadily. The zemindar watched him narrowly -out of his long, black eyes. The Sahib was debating some important -question in his own mind! he looked at his watch, he glanced nervously -up and down the pier, apparently his companion was as nought. Then -he hurried to the foot of the steps and unmoored a punt, and rowed -out several lengths, in quest of _what_? A white flower that the tall -English girl had thrown away. - -The native followed his quest with scornful interest. He has it -now;—no, it has evaded him, and still floats on. Ah, he has reached -it this time, he has lifted it out of the water, as reverently as if -it were one of the sacred hairs of Buddha! He has dried it; he has -concealed it in his coat! - -Bah! the Feringhee is a fool! - - - - -CHAPTER XVII. - -THE BALL. - - "There was a sound of revelry by night." - - -NIGHT had fallen, and the full moon to which Dr. Malone had alluded -was sailing overhead, and flooding Ross with a light that was almost -fierce in its intensity; the island seemed to be set in a silver sea, -over which various heavily laden boats were rowing from the mainland, -conveying company to the ball! Jampans bearing ladies were to be seen -going up towards the mess-house in single file, the guests kept -pouring in, and, despite the paucity of the fair sex, made a goodly -show! We notice Mrs. Creery (as who would not?) in a crimson satin, -with low body, short sleeves, and a black velvet coronet on her head. -Helen Denis in white muslin, with natural flowers; she had been -forbidden by the former lady to even so much as _think_ of her white -silk, but had, nevertheless, cast many yearnings in that direction. -All the same, she looks as well as her best friends could wish, and -a certain nervousness and anticipation gives unwonted brilliancy to -her colour (indeed Miss Caggett has already whispered "paint!"), and -unusual brightness to her eyes. - -The world seems a very good place to her this evening. She is little -more than eighteen, and it is her first dance; if she has an _arrière -pensée_, it has to do with Mr. Lisle, who after being so—well, shall -we say "interesting?" and behaving so heroically, has calmly subsided -into his normal state, viz. obscurity. What is the reason of it? Why -will he not even speak to her? Little does she guess at the real motive -of his absence. As little as that, during his long daily excursions by -land and sea, a face, _hers_, forms a constant background to all his -thoughts—try and forget it as he will. - -The mess-room looked like a fairy bower, with festoons of trailing -creepers and orchids twined along the walls, with big palms and -ferns, in lavish profusion, in every available nook. It was lit up by -dozens of wall-lamps, the floor was as smooth as glass, and all the -most comfortable chairs in Ross were disposed about the ante-room and -verandahs. - -The five-and-forty men were struggling into their gloves, and hanging -round the door, as is their usual behaviour, preliminary to a dance; -and the seventeen ladies were scattered about, as though resolved to -make as much show as possible. Mrs. Creery occupied a conspicuous -position; she stood exactly in the middle of the ball-room, holding -converse with the General, who bowed his head acquiescently from time -to time, but was never so mad as to try and get in a word edgeways. -"Nip" was seated on a sofa, alert and wide awake, plainly looking -upon the whole affair as tomfoolery and nonsense; but he had been to -previous entertainments, and knew that there was such a thing as -_supper_! - -Near the door, stood Miss Caggett, the centre of a noisy circle, -dangling her programme, and almost drowning the bass and tenor voices -by which she was encompassed, with her shrill treble, and shrieks of -discordant laughter at Dr. Malone's muttered witticisms. Her dress -was pink tarletan, made with very full skirts, and it fitted her neat -little figure to perfection. Altogether, Miss Caggett was looking her -best, and was serenely confident of herself, and severely critical of -others. - -Every one had now arrived, save Mr. Quentin, but he thoroughly -understood the importance of a tardy and solitary _entrée_. At last -his tall figure loomed in the doorway, and he lounged in, with an air -of supreme nonchalance, just as the preliminary bars of the opening -Lancers were being played. - -He was not alone, to every one's amazement he was supplemented by Mr. -Lisle—Mr. Lisle in evening dress! There had been grave doubts as to -his possessing that garb; and his absence from one or two dinners, had -been leniently attributed to this deficiency in his wardrobe! People -who looked once at James Quentin, looked twice at Gilbert Lisle; -they could hardly credit the evidence of their senses. Mr. Lisle -in unimpeachable clothes, with a matchless tie, a wide expanse of -shirt-front, and skin-fitting gloves, was a totally different person -to the individual they were accustomed to see, in a rusty old coat, -a flannel shirt, and disreputable wide-awake! How much depends on a -man's tailor! Here was the loafer, transformed into a handsome (if -rather bronzed), distinguished-looking gentleman. He received the fire -of many eyes with the utmost equanimity, as he leant lazily against -the wall, like his neighbours. Miss Caggett, having breathed the words -"Borrowed plumes," and giggled at her own wit, presently beckoned him -to approach, and said pertly,— - -"This is, indeed, an unexpected pleasure. I thought you said you were -not coming, Mr. Lisle?" - -"Did I?" pausing before her. "Very likely; but, unfortunately, I am the -victim of constitutional vacillation." - -"In plain English, you often change your mind?" - -"_Never_ about Miss Caggett," bowing deeply, and presently retiring to -the doorway. - -Lookers-on chuckled, and considered that "Lizzie," as they called her -among themselves, had got the worst of _that_! Mrs. Creery, who had -been gazing at this late arrival with haughty amazement, now no longer -able to restrain herself, advanced upon him, as if marching to slow -music, and said,— - -"I've just had a letter about _you_, Mr. Lisle." - -Mr. Lisle coloured—that is to say, his tan became of a still deeper -shade of brown, and his dark eyes, as they met hers, had an anxious, -uneasy expression. - -"Oh, yes!" triumphantly, "I know _all_ about you, and who you are, and -I shall certainly make it my business to inform every one, and——" - -"Do not for goodness' sake, Mrs. Creery!" he interrupted eagerly. "Do -me the greatest of favours, and keep what you know to yourself." - -Mrs. Creery reared back her diademed head, like a cobra about to -strike, and was on the point of making some withering reply, when the -General accosted her with his elbow crooked in her direction, and said, -"I believe this is our dance," and thus with a nod to her companion, -implying that she had by no means done with him, she was led away to -open the ball. - -Meanwhile Helen had overheard Mrs. Graham whisper across her to Mrs. -Home,— - -"What do you think? When Mrs. Creery came back from us, she found her -letters at home, and she has heard something _dreadful_ about Mr. -Lisle!" - -Helen was conscious of a thrill of dismay as she listened. She was so -perplexed, and so preoccupied, that she scarcely knew what she was -saying, when Mr. Quentin came and led her away to dance. During the -Lancers she was visibly _distrait_, and her attention was wandering -from the figures and her partner, but she was soon brought to her -senses by Mr. Quentin saying rather abruptly,— - -"I've just heard a most awful piece of news!"—her heart bounded. "Only -fancy their sending _me_ to the Nicobars!" - -Helen breathed more freely as she stammered out,— - -"The Nicobars?" - -"Yes, the order came this evening by the _Scotia_—sharp work—and I -sail in her for Camorta to-morrow at cock-crow." - -"And must you go really?" - -"Yes, of course I must. Isn't it hard lines? Some bother about the new -barracks. The Nicobars are a ghastly hole, a poisonous place. I shall -be away two months—that is, if I ever come _back_," he added in a -lachrymose voice. - -"And what about Mr. Lisle?" - -"Oh, he is such a beggar for seeing new regions—he is coming too." - -"I'm sorry you are going to the Nicobars, they have such a bad name for -fever and malaria." - -"I believe you! I hear the malaria there rises like pea-soup!" - -"Mr. Lisle is foolish to go; you should not let him." - -"Oh! he may as well be there as here! He is as hard as nails, and it -would be deadly for me without a companion. He promised to come, and I -shan't let him off, though I must confess, what he _says_, he sticks -to." - -Miss Denis thought Mr. Quentin's arrangement savoured of abominable -selfishness, and between this news, and the sword of Damocles that -was swinging over Mr. Lisle's head, her brain was busy. Dancing went -on merrily, but she did not enjoy herself nearly as much as she -anticipated. After all, this apple of delight, her first ball, had -turned to dust and ashes in her mouth. And why? - -Mr. Lisle leant against a doorway, and looked on very gravely: -doubtless he knew the fate that was in store for him. He remained -at his post for the best part of an hour, and had any one taken the -trouble to watch him, they would have noticed that his eyes followed -Helen and Jim Quentin more closely than any other couple. As they -stopped beside him once, she said,— - -"I did not know that you were coming to-night, Mr. Lisle." - -"Neither did I, till quite late in the afternoon. I suppose there is -not the slightest use in my asking for a dance?" - -Now if the young lady had been an experienced campaigner, and had -wished to dance with the gentleman (which she did), she would have -artlessly replied,— - -"Oh, yes! I think I can give you number so and so," mentally throwing -over some less popular partner; but Helen looked straight into his face -with grave, truthful eyes, displayed a crowded programme, and shook her -head. - -Jim Quentin, who was evidently impatient at this delay, placed his arm -round his partner's waist, and danced her away to the melting strains -of the old "Kate Kearney" waltz. - -None gave themselves more thoroughly up to the pleasures of the moment, -or with more _abandon_ than Dr. Malone and Mrs. Creery. They floated -round and round, and to and fro, with cork-like buoyancy, for Mrs. -Creery, though elderly and stout, was light of foot, and a capital -dancer; and her partner whirled her hither and thither like a big red -feather! Every one danced, and the seventeen revolving couples made -quite a respectable appearance in the narrow room. And what a sight -to behold the twenty-eight partnerless men, languishing in doorways, -and clamouring for halves and quarters of dances! Men who, from the -wicked perversity of their nature, were they as one man to ten girls, -would certainly decline to dance at _all_! Mr. Lisle had abandoned his -station at last, and waltzed repeatedly with Mrs. Durand; they seemed -to know each other intimately, and were by far the best waltzers in the -room. There was a finish and ease about their performance that spoke of -balls in the Great Babylon, and though others might pause for breath, -and pant, and puff, these two, like the brook, seemed to "go on for -ever!" - -They also put a very liberal interpretation upon the term "sitting -out!" They walked up the hill in the moonlight, and surveyed the -view—undoubtedly other dancers did the same—but not _always_ with -the same companion; to be brief, people were beginning to talk of the -"marked" attention that Mr. Lisle was paying Mrs. Durand—attentions -not lost on Helen, who noticed them, as it were, against her will, -and tried to keep down a storm of angry thoughts in her heart by -asking herself, as she paced the verandah with Dr. Parkes, and dropped -haphazard sentences, "Was it possible that she was jealous, bitterly -jealous, because Mr. Lisle spoke to another woman?—Mr. Lisle, who -avoided her; Mr. Lisle, who had a history; Mr. Lisle, who was going -away?" - -She held her head rather higher than usual, pressed her lips very -firmly together, and told herself, "No, she had not _yet_ fallen quite -so low. Mr. Lisle and his friends were nothing to her." - - * * * * * - -Supper was served early. Mrs. Creery was the hostess, and we know that -she had "Nip" in her mind, when she suggested that at twelve o'clock -they should adjourn for refreshment, and sailed in at the head of the -procession on the General's arm. "Nip," who had been the first to enter -the supper-room, sat close to his doating mistress, devouring tit-bits -of cold roast peacock, and _pâté de foie gras_, with evident relish; -_this_ was a part of the entertainment that he could comprehend. His -mistress was also pleased with the refection, and condescended to pass -a handsome encomium upon the mess-cook, and priced several of the -dishes set before her (with an eye to future entertainments of her -own). She was in capital spirits, and imparted to Dr. Malone, who sat -upon her left, that she had never seen a better ball in Ross in all her -experience; also, amongst many other remarks, that Miss Caggett's dress -was like a dancer's. - -"But is not that as it ought to be?" he inquired, with assumed -innocence. - -"I mean a columbine!" she replied sternly; "and her face is an inch -deep in powder—she is a _show_! As to Helen Denis——" - -"Yes, Mrs. Creery. As to Miss Denis?" - -"I'm greatly disappointed in her. She is no candle-light beauty, after -all." - -"Ah, well, maybe she will come to _that_ by-and-by. So long as she can -stand the daylight, there is hope for her—eh?" - -Mrs. Creery told Dr. Malone that "she believed he was in love with the -girl, or he would not talk such nonsense!" and finally wound up the -conversation by darkly insinuating something terrible about Mr. Lisle, -adding that he had craved for her forbearance, and implored her to hold -her tongue! - -"But I won't," she concluded, rising as she spoke, and dusting the -crumbs off her ample lap. "It is my _duty_ to expose him! We don't want -any wolves in sheep's clothing prowling about the settlement," and with -a nod weighty with warning, she moved away in the direction of the -ball-room. - -Miss Caggett had torn her dress badly—her columbine skirts—and -Helen was not sorry to be called aside to render assistance. She was -unutterably weary of Mr. Quentin and his monotonous compliments. His -manner of protecting, and appropriating her, as if she belonged to him, -and they had some secret bond of union, was simply maddening! As she -tacked up Lizzie's rents, in a corner of the ante-room, Lizzie said -suddenly,— - -"I suppose you have heard all the fuss about Mr. Lisle? Mrs. Creery is -bubbling over with the news. Don't pretend _I_ told you, but she has -heard all about him at last; very _much_ at last," giggling. - -"Yes?" interrogated her companion. - -"He was in the army—I always suspected that; he looked as if he had -been drilled. He was turned out, cashiered for something disgraceful -about racing; and as to his flirtations, we can imagine _them_, from -the way he is behaving himself to-night! He has danced every dance with -Mrs. Durand, though I will say this, she asked him; and, of course, it -was because _she_ came back, that he changed his mind about the ball." - -"Now your dress will do, I think," said Helen, rising from her knees -with rather a choking sensation in her throat. - -"Oh, thanks awfully, you dear girl!" pirouetting as she spoke. "I'll -do as much for you another time; there's a dance beginning, and I must -go!" and she hurried off. - -In the doorway Helen came face to face with Mr. Lisle, who was -apparently searching for some one—for her! - -She held up her chin, and, with one cool glance, was about to pass by, -when he said, rather eagerly,— - -"Miss Denis, I was looking for you. Malone has been sent for to -barracks, and he said that I might ask you to give me his dance—the -next—the last." - -Helen fully intended to decline the pleasure, but something in Mr. -Lisle's face compelled her to say "_Yes_," and without a word more, -she placed her hand upon his arm; they walked into the ball-room, and -immediately commenced to waltz; this waltz was "Soldate Lieder." Her -present partner was very superior to Jim Quentin, and she found that -she could go on much longer with him without stopping, keeping up one -even, delightful pace; but at last she was obliged to lean against the -wall—completely out of breath. Her eyes, as she did so, followed Mrs. -Durand enviously, and she exclaimed,— - -"I wish I could dance like her." Now, had she breathed this aspiration -to Mr. Quentin or Dr. Malone, they would have assured her that her -dancing was already perfection, but Mr. Lisle frankly replied,— - -"Oh, all you want is practice; you must remember that she has been at -it for years. We used to dance together at children's parties,—I won't -say _how_ long ago." - -"I know I dance badly," said Helen, colouring; "but the reason of that -is that, although I danced a great deal at school, it was always as -gentleman, because I was tall." - -"Ah! I see," and he laughed. "Now I understand why you were so bent on -steering me about just now. Well, you are not likely to dance gentleman -again, I fancy. There!" regretfully, "it's over; shall we go outside?" - -Helen nodded her head, and accordingly they went down the steps arm in -arm. She meant to seize this opportunity of giving him a hint of the -mine on which he was standing,—one word of warning with regard to Mrs. -Creery. She had accepted his friendship, and surely this would be the -act of a friend. - -Mr. Quentin—sitting in the dusky shades of a secluded corner, -whispering to Lizzie Caggett—saw the pair descending from the -ball-room, pass down the steps, and out into the moonlight, and looked -after them with an expression of annoyance that was quite a revelation -to his sprightly companion. - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII. - -"BUT WHAT WILL PAPA SAY?" - - "Joy so seldom weaves a chain - Like this to-night, that, oh! 'tis pain - To break its links so soon." - - _Moore._ - - -HELEN and her partner ascended the steep gravel pathway, lined with -palms, gold mohur, and orange-trees, and turning a sharp corner, came -suddenly upon a full view of the sea, with the moon on her bosom. It -was a soft, still, tropical night; not a sound broke the silence, save -a distant murmur of human voices, or the dip of an oar in the water. - -That moon overhead seldom looked down upon fairer scene, or a more -well-favoured couple, than the pair who were now leaning over the -rustic railings, and gazing at the prospect beneath them—or rather, -the man was looking at the girl, and the girl was looking at the sea. -Doubtless moon-shine idealizes the human form, just as it casts a -glamour over the landscape; but at the present moment Helen appears -almost as beautiful as her world-renowned namesake. Her lovely eyes -have a fathomless, far-away expression, her pure, clear-cut profile -is thrown into admirable relief by the glossy dark leaves of a -neighbouring orange-tree. In her simple muslin dress, with its soft -lace ruffles, and a row of pearls round her throat, she seemed the -very type of a modest English maiden (no painted columbine this!), -and, perhaps, a little out of place amid her Eastern surroundings. She -continued to gaze straight before her, with her hands crossed on the -top of the railing, and her eyes fixed on the sea. As she gazed, a -boat shot out of the dim shadows, and across the white moonlit track, -then passed into obscurity again. - -"Thinking as usual, Miss Denis?" said her companion. - -"Yes," she answered rather reluctantly, "thinking of something that I -must say to _you_, and wondering how I am to say it." - -"Is it much worse than last time?" he inquired with a smile (but there -was an inflection of eagerness in his voice). - -"Oh! quite different." - -"Ah, she is going to announce that she is engaged to Quentin," he said -to himself with a sharp twinge. - -"Do you find it so very hard to tell me?" he inquired in a studiously -indifferent tone. - -"Yes, very hard; but I must. I owe you much, Mr. Lisle—and—I am -your—friend—I wish to warn you." Suddenly sinking her voice to a -whisper, she added,—"Mrs. Creery has had a letter about YOU!" - -"Containing any startling revelations, any bad news?" - -"Yes," she returned faintly. "Bad news. Oh, Mr. Lisle,—I am so sorry!" - -"Is the news too terrible to be repeated?" he asked with marked -deliberation. - -Helen fidgeted with her fan, picked a bit of bark off the railing in -front of her, and, after a long silence, and without raising her eyes, -she said,— - -"Must I tell you?" - -"If you please," rather stiffly. - -"She—she—hears that you have been in the army." - -"Yes, so I was—I was not aware that it was criminal to hold her -Majesty's commission; but, of course, Mrs. Creery knows best." - -"She says you were—were obliged to—to leave disgraced," continued his -companion in a rapid, broken whisper. - -"Cashiered, you mean, of course!" - -"Yes," glancing at him nervously. To her amazement, he was smiling. - -"Do you believe this, Miss Denis?" he asked, raising himself suddenly -from a leaning posture and looking at her steadily. - -"No," she faltered. "I think not. No," more audibly, "I do not," -blushing deeply as she spoke. - -"Why?" he asked rather anxiously. - -"I cannot give you any reason," she stammered, somewhat abashed by the -steadfastness of his gaze, "except a woman's reason, that it is so——" - -"I am sincerely grateful to you, Miss Denis; your confidence is not -misplaced.—I am _not_ the man in question. Mrs. Creery has got hold of -the wrong end of the stick for once. I know of whom she is thinking," -his face darkened as he spoke, "a namesake and, I am ashamed to say, a -relation of mine. It is extremely good-natured of the old lady, to make -me the subject of her correspondence." Then in quite another tone he -said, "I suppose you have heard of our start to-morrow?" - -"Yes," she replied, scarcely above a whisper. - -"I'm a regular bird of passage, and ought to have been away weeks ago; -and you yourself will probably be on the wing before long." (He was -thinking of her marriage with Jim Quentin, but how could she know that?) - -"Oh, not for a year at any rate! Papa does not expect that we shall be -moved before then," she answered quite composedly. "I am sorry you are -going to the Nicobars—I mean, you and Mr. Quentin," hastily correcting -herself. "It's a horribly unhealthy place—soldiers and convicts die -there by dozens from—fever," her lip quivered a little as she spoke. - -"Not quite so bad as you think," returned her companion, moving his -elbow an inch closer to her. "I'm an old traveller, you know,—and I -will look after him for you." - -"Look after who?" she asked in amazement. - -"Why, Quentin, to be sure. I know all about it. I," lowering his voice, -"am in the _secret_." - -"Mr. Lisle, will you kindly tell me at once what you mean?" - -"Certainly, Miss Denis. I mean that Quentin is the happiest of men." - -"I am extremely pleased to hear it, but why?" she interrogated firmly. - -"What is the use of fencing with me in this way?" he exclaimed with a -gesture of impatience. "You may trust me.—I know all about it. Quentin -has told me himself, that he is engaged to you." - -"Engaged to _me_!" she echoed with glowing eyes. "Mr. Lisle, you are -joking." - -"Do I look as if I was joking?" he demanded rather bitterly. - -"It is not the case. It is the first that I have heard of it," -exclaimed the young lady in a voice trembling with agitation and -indignation. "How dared he say so?" - -Mr. Lisle felt bewildered; a rapturous possibility made his brain reel. -Yet who was he to believe? Quentin had been very positive; he had never -known him to utter a deliberate lie. And here, on the other hand, stood -this girl, saying "No;" and if ever the truth was traced upon proud, -indignant lips, it was written on hers. - -"Do you believe me, Mr. Lisle?" she asked impatiently. - -For fully a moment he did not speak; and was it the moonlight, or some -sudden emotion, that made him look so white? - -"I do believe you, of course," he answered in a low voice. "And now," -he continued in the same low tone, urged to speak by an irresistible -impulse, "perhaps you can guess _why_ i have stayed away? How, from a -sense of mistaken loyalty, my lips have been locked?" - -Her eyes, which up to this, had been fixed intently on his, now sank. -Suddenly a suspicion of the truth now dawned upon her mind, and she -turned aside her face. - -"Miss Denis," he said, "I see you have guessed my secret—I love you." - -These three magic words were almost inaudible; barely louder than the -orange leaves which whispered in the scented air. Nevertheless a busy -little zephyr caught them up, carried them away, and murmured them to -the sleepy flowers and the drowsy waves, that washed the invulnerable -rocks beneath them. - -Helen made no reply. This was the first love-tale to which she had ever -listened, and those three syllables stirred every fibre of her heart. - -"Do you remember that time on the wreck," he continued, "when you told -me that I was leading a lazy, useless life, and that I ought to go back -to the outer world? You little guessed that it was you, yourself, who -were keeping me a prisoner here!" - -Still the young lady said nothing, but kept her face steadily turned -towards the sea. - -He waited a moment, as if expecting some reply, but none came. At last -he said, in quite a different tone,— - -"I see how it is.—I have been a presumptuous idiot! And, after all, I -had no right to expect that you would care a straw about me. I am years -older than you are; I am—" - -"Mr. Lisle," she interrupted, turning towards him at last, and speaking -with apparent effort, "you are quite wrong.—I—I——" she stopped, and -a little half-frightened smile played round her mouth, as she added, -almost under her breath, "But what will papa say?" - -"Then _you_ mean to say 'Yes'!" he exclaimed, coming nearer to her, and -grasping the railing firmly in his hand, to conceal how it shook. - -Again she made no reply, but this time Mr. Lisle undoubtedly took -silence for consent. - -Mrs. Creery and Dr. Parkes were standing on the very summit of the -hill, overlooking everything and everybody, and the former had not -failed to notice a couple at some distance below them, leaning over the -rails, and contemplating the sea, a tall girl in white, Helen Denis, -of course; and who was the man? It looked like Captain Durand. There, -Captain Durand had just bent over her, and kissed her hand! Pretty -doings, certainly, for a married man. - -"There!" she exclaimed, suddenly nudging Dr. Parkes, "did you see -_that_?" - -"See what, my dear madam?" - -"That man down there with Helen Denis. I believe it's Captain Durand; -he has just kissed her hand. Oh! WAIT till I see his wife!" - -"Pooh!" returned her companion contemptuously, "the moonlight must have -deceived you, it was his own hand; he was stroking his moustache." - -"Oh, well, I'm not so sure of that!—but I suppose I must take your -word for it, doctor." - -Meanwhile, to return to Mr. Lisle, who _had_ kissed Helen's hand. (Mrs. -Creery's eyes seldom deceived her.) "Won't you say something to me, -Helen?" he pleaded anxiously. - -"Yes," turning round and drawing her fingers away, "I will.—I -say—don't go to the Nicobars." - -"But I must; I have promised Quentin and Hall, and I cannot break my -word. I would gladly give half I possess to get out of it; but I little -guessed this afternoon, when Quentin asked me to go and I said 'Yes,' -that I would so soon have such very strong reasons for saying '_No_.'" - -"I wish they would let you off; I have a presentiment about the -Nicobars." - -"Presentiment of what?" - -"I cannot say, but of something bad. Do _you_ believe in -presentiments?" looking at him wistfully. - -"No, and yet I should not say so! That night of the storm, when you -ran down the pier steps and called me back, your voice and your face -haunted me afterwards for days. I had a kind of conviction that I had -met my fate, and so I _had_, you see! By the way, I wonder why you like -me, Helen? or what you see in me?" - -The young lady smiled, but said nothing. - -"All the world can understand my caring for you, but I am, in one way, -an utter stranger; you could not answer a single question about me, -if you were asked! As far as appearances go, I am an idler, a mere -time-killer, without friends, station, or money." - -"If you are idle you will have to amend your ways——" - -"And work for you as well as myself," he interrupted with a laugh. - -"As to friends, I would say you could share mine, but then I have so -few. Still——" - -"Still, for better or worse you will be Mrs. Gilbert Lisle?" - -"Yes—some day," faltered the young lady. - -"I know I am not half as fascinating, nor a quarter as good-looking as -Quentin; honestly, what do you see in me, Helen?" - -"Do you expect me to pander to your conceit, and to make you pretty -speeches?" she asked with rather a saucy smile. - -"Indeed I do not; all the pretty speeches, of course, should come from -_me_. I only want to hear the truth," he returned, looking at her with -his steady dark eyes. - -"Well, then, since you must know, and you seem generally to have your -own way, I will try and tell you. Somehow, from the first—yes, the -very _first_—I was sure that you were a person that I could trust; and -ever since that time on the wreck——" she paused. - -"Yes," he repeated, "ever since that time on the wreck?—go on, Helen." - -"I have felt that—that—I would not be afraid to go through anything -with you, to—to spend my life with you. _There!_" becoming crimson, -she added, "I know I have said too much, _far_ too much," clasping her -hands together nervously. - -A look more eloquent than words illumined Lisle's face. - -"And you would give yourself to me in this blind confidence? Helen, I -little dreamt when I came down here rather aimlessly, that in these -unknown islands, I should find such a pearl beyond price. You cannot -understand what it is to me, to feel that I am valued for myself, -simply as Gilbert Lisle, poor, obscure, and—" he paused, his voice -sounded rather husky, and then he went on, "I must see your father -to-night. But how? I left him at billiards. I wonder what he will say -to me?" - -"Perhaps, perhaps," began Helen rather nervously, "_I_ had better speak -to him first. I know he likes you but——" - -"Yes, there would seem to be a very considerable _but_," smiling -significantly. "Nevertheless, I hope he will listen to me. No, Helen, I -would rather talk to him myself." - -"At any rate, you will not ask me to leave him for ages,—not for a -long time?" - -"What do you call a long time?" - -"Two or three years; he will be so lonely." - -"Two or three years!—and pray what is to become of me?" - -"Have you no relations?" - -"Yes, some. Chiefly a father, who is pining for the day when I shall -introduce him to a daughter-in-law." - -"Now you are joking, surely," looking at him with a bewildered face. "I -have heard of mothers being anxious to get their daughters married—but -a father his sons, never!" - -"Ah," repressing a smile, "well, you see, you live and learn." - -"And what is your father like?" - -"He is old, of course; he has white hair and a red face, and is short -in stature and in temper." - -"You do not speak of him very respectfully." - -"You are always hauling me up, Helen. First I am lazy, now I am -unfilial." - -"I beg your pardon. I forget, I am too ready to say the first thing -that comes into my head." - -"Never mind begging my pardon. I like to be lectured by _you_," taking -her hand in his. - -"Do not—supposing Mrs. Creery were to see you?" trying to withdraw -hers,—and vainly. - -"What if she did?" he returned boldly; "it is my own property." - -Thus silenced, Helen submitted to have her arm drawn within her -lover's, and her hand clasped tightly in his. - -"Where does your father live, and what does he do, and like?" she asked -presently. - -"He lives in London. What does he do? Nothing particular. What does he -like? He likes a rubber of whist, he likes politics, he likes his own -way. He is certain to like _you_." - -"Oh, I always get on well with old gentlemen," she rejoined with some -complacency. - -Her companion looked at her with an odd twinkle in his eye, and said,— - -"As, for instance?" - -"As, for instance, the General, Colonel Home, Dr. Parkes." - -"And you call _them_ old gentlemen! Why, they are men in the prime of -life! Perhaps you consider me an old gentleman also!" - -"Nonsense," she returned with a smile. "Now tell me something about -your mother." - -"Ah! my mother," he answered with a sudden change in his expression. -"My mother died five years ago." - -"I am sorry," began Helen. - -"And _I_ am sorry, that she did not live to know you. She was the most -beautiful woman I ever saw—and the best." - -"You were better off than I was. I do not remember my mother; she was -lovely, too," returned Helen, jealous for a certain painted miniature -that was the most precious of her treasures. - -Mr. Lisle looked at Helen thoughtfully. His mind suddenly travelled -back to the night that she had landed on Ross—and a certain scathing -sketch of the late Mrs. Denis. Of course this child beside him was -totally ignorant of her mother's foibles. "The prettiest woman in -India" had, at any rate, bequeathed her face to her daughter. Yes, he -noted the low brow, straight nose, short upper lip, and rounded chin. -But what if Helen had also inherited the disposition of the false, -fair, unscrupulous Greek? - -That was impossible; he was bitterly ashamed of the thought, and -mentally hurled it from him with scorn. His lady-love was rather -surprised at his long silence. Of what was he thinking? - -"It is a well-known fact," he said at length, "that the value people -place upon themselves is largely discounted by the world; but when I -came down here, merely to see what the place was like, and to shoot and -fish, I never guessed that I should be taken for counterfeit coin by -the head of the society for the propagation of scandal." - -"Meaning Mrs. Creery," said Helen with a smile. - -"Yes. Because I declined to unbosom myself to her, and tell her where I -came from, where I was going, what was my age, my religion, etc., etc., -she made up her mind that I was a kind of social outcast, and was not -to be tolerated in decent company. This, as you may have remarked, sat -very lightly on my mind; I did not come here for society, but it amused -me to see how Mrs. Creery set me down as a loafer and a pauper. It does -not always follow that, because a fellow wears a shabby coat, his -pockets must be empty. I am not a poor man; far from it. Do you think, -if I were, I would have the effrontery to go to your father, and say, -'Here I am. I have no profession, no prospects, no money. Hand me over -your treasure, your only child, and let us see if what is not enough -for one to live on will suffice for two?' Were a man to come to _me_ -with such a suggestion, I should hand him over to the police." - -Helen looked at him in awe-struck astonishment. - -"Then you are rich,—and no one guesses it here!" - -"Oh, the General knows all about me; so does Quentin; so shall _you_! -How I wish," he exclaimed with sudden vehemence, "that these miserable -Nicobars had never been discovered! Six weeks will seem a century, -especially in the company of Quentin. I shall be obliged to have it out -with Master James," he added, with a rather stern curve of his lips. "I -had thought that lying was an obsolete vice! Only that Hall is going, -and is entirely depending on me as a kind of buffer between him and -Quentin,—whom he detests,—I would not consider my promise binding. I -never knowingly associate with——" he stopped short, and apparently -finished the sentence to himself. "Anyway, it will seem years till I -come back!" - -"And you _will_ come back?" she said, looking at him with a strangely -wistful face. - -For a moment he returned her gaze in reproachful amazement. Then, -stretching his hand out towards the east, replied,— - -"As sure as the sun will rise there to-morrow, so surely will I return. -What have I said or done that you should doubt me now—you who have -trusted me so generously?" - -"I cannot tell. I have a strange feeling that I cannot get out of my -head; and yet I'm sure you would laugh were you to hear it, Mr. Lisle." - -"Gilbert," he corrected. - -"Yes, Gilbert," she repeated softly. - -"I must tell you, Helen, what I have more than once been tempted to -confide to you. I am not what I seem. I——" - -"It was _not_ captain Durand, after all," interrupted a harsh female -voice close by, and at this critical moment Mrs. Creery and Dr. Parkes -came swooping down from the hill-top. - -"Helen and Mr. Lisle! Well, I declare! Pray do you know that every one -is going home? What can you have been thinking of? The band played 'God -save the Queen' half an hour ago." - -Mr. Lisle drew himself up to his full height (which was five feet ten), -and looked as if he wished the good lady—say, at Jericho; and Helen -fumbled with her fan, and murmured some incoherent excuse. They both -hung back, evidently expecting and hoping that the elder couple would -lead the way down the hill; but, alas! for their expectations, Mrs. -Creery suddenly put out a plump hand and drew Helen's reluctant one -under her own arm, saying, as she shouldered herself between her and -her cavalier,— - -"Come along with me; it's high time little girls like you were at -home," and without another word Helen was, as it were, marched off -under a strong escort in the direction of the ball-room. - -Good-bye to those few transcendental moments, good-bye to the moonlight -on the water, the scent of orange-flowers, and all the appropriate -surroundings to a love-tale! Say good-bye to Gilbert Lisle and love's -young dream, Helen Denis, and go quietly down the hill with Mrs. -Creery's heavy arm firmly locked in yours. - -The two gentlemen followed in dead silence. Dr. Parkes was infinitely -diverted with this little scene; he had been young himself, and it did -not need the light of his own past experience to tell him, that this -good-looking, impecunious fellow beside him had been trying his hand -at making love to the island belle; but Mrs. Creery was a deal too -sharp for him, and on the whole, "though he was evidently a gentleman," -casting a glance at his companion's aristocratic profile and erect, -rather soldierly figure, he considered that it was a deuced piece of -cheek for _him_ to think of making up to Helen Denis! Alas! little did -Dr. Parkes and the careful matron in his van, guess that they were -merely carrying away the key of the stable, the steed (meaning the -young lady's heart) had been stolen long ago. - -As to Mr. Lisle's thoughts, the reader can easily imagine -them—disgust, impatience, rage were the least of them. How was he to -get another word with Helen? How was he to have a chance of seeing -Colonel Denis? Oh! rash and fatal promise that he had made that -afternoon. When the ladies all emerged, shawled and cloaked from the -mess-room verandah, he made one bold effort to walk home with his -_fiancée_; but every one was leaving simultaneously, and they all -descended in one compact body, Dr. Malone escorting Miss Denis on one -side, and Captain Rodney on the other; while her accepted lover walked -alone behind, and angrily gnawed his moustache. However, he was the -last to bid her good-bye, he even went a few paces down the little -walk; meanwhile from the high road a crowd looked on—and waited! -This was a trying ordeal, and Dr. Parkes' voice was heard shouting -impatiently,— - -"Now then, Lisle! if you are coming in my boat, look sharp, will you, -there's a good fellow?" - -He felt a fierce desire to throttle the little doctor! Moments to _him_ -were more precious than diamonds, and what was half an hour more or -less to a dried-up old fogey like that? - -He stopped for a second under the palm-trees, and whispered,— - -"I'll come over to-morrow early; I mean this morning, if I may, and -if I can possibly manage it; if not, good-bye, darling—our first and -last good-bye. I shall be back in six weeks," and then he wrung her -hand and went. (A more tender leave-taking was out of the question, in -the searching glare of the moonlight, and under the batteries of forty -pairs of eyes.) - -Poor, ignorant Colonel Denis! who was standing within three yards, -little guessed what Gilbert Lisle was whispering to his daughter; -indeed, he was not aware that he had been whispering at _all_! nor that -here was a robber who wished to carry off his treasure—his all—his -one ewe lamb. - -No, this guileless, unsuspicious gentleman, nodded a friendly "good -night" to the thief, and went slowly yawning up the steps, then, -turning round, said sleepily,— - -"Well, and how did my little girl enjoy herself?" - -His little girl looked very lovely in his fond eyes, as she stood below -him in her simple white gown, with her face still turned towards the -roadway." - -"Oh! very, very much, papa!" she replied most truthfully, now entering -the dim verandah, and thereby hiding the treacherous blushes that -mounted to her very temples. - -"That's right!" kissing her as he spoke. "There, be off to bed; it's -nearly two o'clock! dreadful hours for an old gentleman like me!" - -But Miss Denis did not obey her parent's injunction; on the contrary, -she went into the drawing-room, laid down her candle, removed her -gloves, and rested her hot face in her hands, and tried to collect her -thoughts, and realize her bliss. She was so happy, she could not bear -to go to bed, for fear she might go to sleep. She wanted to make the -most of the delicious present, to think over every moment, every word, -every look, that she had exchanged with Mr. Lisle this most wonderful -evening. And to think that all along he had stayed away because he -had thought that she was engaged to Jim Quentin—he had said so. Jim -Quentin! And she curled her lip scornfully, as she recollected a recent -little scene between that gentleman and herself. - -For a whole hour she sat in the dimly-lighted drawing-room, looking -out on the stars, listening to the sea, and tasting a happiness that -comes but once in most people's lifetime. She was rudely aroused from -her mental ecstacy, by a tall figure appearing in the doorway, clothed -in white; no ghost this—merely her ayah, with her cloth wrapped round -her, saying in a drowsy voice,— - -"Missy never coming to bed to-night?" - - - - -CHAPTER XIX. - -PROOF POSITIVE. - - "About a hoop of gold—a paltry ring that she did give me." - - _Merchant of Venice._ - - "Is this a prologue—or the poesy of a ring? - 'Tis brief, my lord—as woman's love." - - _Hamlet._ - - -IT will not surprise any one to hear, that there was rather a stormy -meeting between Mr. Lisle and his fellow inmate. Mr. Quentin did not -return home till nearly four o'clock, and when he did, he found his -friend sitting up for him, and this of itself constitutes an injury, -especially when the last-comer has had rather too much champagne! -Apollo arrived tired and sleepy, with tumbled locks and tie, and in a -quarrelsome, captious mood, swearing roundly as he came up the steps, -at his unhappy servants—who had spent the night in packing. - -"Hullo!" he cried, seeing the other writing at the table, "not gone to -roost yet, my early bird?" - -"No," looking at him gravely, "I wanted to speak to you first," rising -as he spoke and shutting the door. - -"I say!" with a forced laugh, "you are not going to shoot me, eh?" - -"No, I merely want to ask you why you told me that you were engaged to -Miss Denis?" - -"Who says I'm not?" throwing himself into a chair, and extending his -long legs. - -"She does," replied his companion laconically. - -"And how dare _you_ ask her or meddle in my affairs?" blustered Mr. -Quentin in a loud voice. - -"'Dare' is a foolish word to use to me, Quentin. I do not want to -quarrel with you," feeling that his adversary was not quite himself. -"But I wish to know why you deceived me in this way. What was your -motive?" - -Mr. Quentin was as much sobered by the stern eyes of his _vis-à-vis_, -as if he had had his head immersed in a bucket of iced water. -He reviewed the circumstances with lightning speed; to tide over -to-morrow, nay, this very day, was all he wanted. In a few hours they -would be off; the _Scotia_ sailed at nine, and the chances were ten to -one that Lisle and Helen Denis would never meet in this world again. -Lisle would probably go home from the Nicobars. He could not afford to -get into his black books (for various reasons, chiefly connected with -cheque books), and he would brazen it out now. As well be hanged for a -sheep as a lamb! - -"I _am_ engaged to her," he said at last. - -"She says you are not; it's merely your word against hers." - -"And which do you believe?" - -"Well, this is no time for mincing matters. I believe Miss Denis," said -the other bluntly. - -"Believe her against me? A girl you have not spoken to ten times in -your life; and you and I have lived here under the same roof like -_brothers_ for months. Oh, Gilbert Lisle!" and his beautiful blue -eyes looked quite misty, as he apostrophized his companion in a tone -as mournful as the renowned "_Et tu, Brute_."—But, as I have already -stated, Jim Quentin was a consummate actor. - -Mr. Lisle was rather staggered for a moment, and the other went on,— - -"Don't you know—but how should you? for you don't know woman's ways," -with a melancholy shake of the head, "that they _all_, even the -youngest and simplest of them, think it no harm to tell fibs about -their sweethearts? I give you my solemn word of honour that I've heard -an engaged girl swear she was not going to be married to a fellow up -to a week before the wedding-day. They think that being known to be -engaged, spoils their fun with other men; the more proposals they can -boast of the better. If you have been such a fool, as to believe Helen -Denis's little joke, all I can say is, that I am sorry for you!" - -This was hard swearing, certainly, but it was in for a penny, in for a -pound, and the _Scotia_ sailed at nine o'clock. - -Still Mr. Lisle was not convinced, and he saw it and added,— - -"You think very little of my bare word, I see. No doubt you would like -to see some tangible proof of what I say. There is no time now ('thank -goodness,' to himself) to bring us face to face, but if I promise to -show you some token before we sail, will that content you?" - -Mr. Lisle made no reply. - -"And," he continued, "I'm going to turn in now, for it's four o'clock, -and I'm dead beat. Don't let us fall out, old fellow—no woman is worth -it. They are all the same, they can't help their nature," and with this -parting declaration, Mr. Quentin, finished actor and finished flirt, -sorrowfully nodded his head and took his departure. - -Once in his own apartment he tore off his coat, called his body-servant -to pull off his boots, threw himself into an arm-chair, and composed -himself with a cheroot, yea, at four o'clock in the morning! He had -shown a bold front, and had impressed Lisle—that he could see plainly. -But how about this little token? He did not possess a glove, a ribbon, -a flower, much less a photograph or a lock of hair. What was he to do? -For fully a quarter of an hour the query found no answer in his brain, -till his sleepy servant, asking some trivial question, gave him a clue; -he saw it all, as it were, in a lightning flash. - -Abdul was married to Miss Denis's ayah (a handsome, good-for-nothing -virago, who, it was rumoured, occasionally inflicted corporal -punishment upon her lord and master, and was avaricious to the last -degree). - -Abdul was a dark, oily-looking, sly person, who was generally to be -trusted—when his own interests did not clash with his employer's. - -"Abdul, look here," said Mr. Quentin suddenly, "I want you to do -something for me at once." - -"Yes, saar," said Abdul in a drowsy voice. - -"Go off, now, this moment, and get the boat, go across to Ross"—here -Abdul's face became very blank indeed,—"go to Colonel Denis's -bungalow, and speak to Fatima, and tell her." Mr. Quentin was, for once -in his life, a little ashamed of what he was about to do; but do it he -would, all the same—he _must_—he had burnt his boats. "Tell her to -give you that queer gold ring Missy wears—no stones, a pattern like -this," talking the jargon of the East, and showing an ancient seal. "I -want it as 'muster' for another, just to look at; for a present for -Missy, and will give it back to-day. Mind you, Abdul, never letting -Missy know: if you do, or if Fatima says one word, you get nothing; if -you and she manage the job well, you shall have twenty rupees!" - -Abdul stared, and then salaamed and stolidly replied,— - -"I never telling master's business, master knows." - -"Then be off at once, and let me see you back by seven o'clock; and -don't attempt to show your face without _that_, or no rupees—you -understand?" - -"Master pleases," ejaculated Abdul, and vanished on his errand, an -errand that was much to his taste. A little mystery or intrigue, and -the prospects of a good many rupees, appeals to the native mind in a -very direct fashion. - -At seven o'clock he had returned, having accomplished his mission. -Breathless and radiant he appeared, and roused his sleeping master, -saying,— - -"I've come back, saar, and here"—unfolding a bit of his turban, and -holding out his hand—"I've brought the pattern master wanted." - -"By Jove!" leaning up on his elbow, and now wide awake, "so you have," -taking Helen's ring, and surveying it critically. Yes! nothing could be -better; she always wore it on the third finger of her right hand, and -there was surely some history about it, or he was much mistaken. "We -will see what Lisle will say to _this_," he muttered to himself as he -squeezed it on his own somewhat plump little finger. Then to Abdul,— - -"Very well. All right; I'll give it back, you know. Meanwhile go to my -box over there, and bring the money-bag, and count yourself out the -dibs I promised you." - -Abdul obeyed this order with great alacrity, salaamed, and then waited -for his next instructions. - -"You can go now; call me in half an hour," said his master, dismissing -him with a wave of his newly-decorated hand. - -"A first-class idea! and, by Jove, Miss Helen, I owed you this. The -idea of a little chit like you, the penniless daughter of an old -Hindoo colonel, giving yourself such airs as you did last night," -alluding to a scene when Helen, wearied by his compliment, and -indignant at his presumption, had plucked up courage to rebuke him in a -manner that penetrated even the triple armour of his self-conceit. Such -a thing was a novel experience, the recollection of it stung him still, -and to such a man as Jim Quentin, the affront was unpardonable. It -awoke a slumbering flame of resentment in his rather stolid breast, and -a burning desire to pay her out! And he would take right good care that -she did not catch Lisle—Lisle, who was certainly inclined to make an -ass of himself about her. With this determination in his mind, he rose, -dressed, and languidly lounged into their mutual sitting-room, where -his companion had been impatiently awaiting him for an hour, intending -subsequently to sail across to Ross, and take one more parting with his -fair lady-love, and, if possible, obtain a word with her father. - -"So you have appeared at last?" he exclaimed; "I've been expecting you -for ages." - -"Have you? but we need not leave this till half-past eight," looking at -his watch. "They know we are going,—and Hall is never in time." - -"I'm not thinking of the _Scotia_," returned the other, scarcely able -to restrain his impatience; "but of what you promised to show me last -night—that proof you spoke of, you know." - -"Oh! yes; by-the-bye, so I did," as if it were a matter of the most -complete indifference. "I daresay I have something that will convince -you. Will this do?" tendering his hand as he spoke, in quite an airy, -nonchalant fashion. - -Mr. Lisle glanced at it, and beheld his ring, the wreck ring, adorning -Jim Quentin's little finger! He started as if he had been struck—his -own gift, that she declared she would never part with! And she had -bestowed it already,—given it to Quentin: this was enough, was too -much—he asked no more. - -"Well, will that do?" demanded Apollo, removing and tendering the -token. "Are you satisfied _now_?" - -"Yes," replied Mr. Lisle, who had regained his self-command. But the -other had noted the sudden pallor of his face, the almost incredulous -expression of his eyes, and felt that this borrowed bit of jewellery -was indeed a trump card, boldly played. - -Jim was immensely relieved as this one syllable fell from his -companion's lips. The whole matter was now settled. Lisle was choked -off: his own credit was unimpeached, but it had had a narrow squeak, -and last night he had undoubtedly spent a very unpleasant quarter of an -hour. - -Of course Mr. Lisle did not return to Ross, although the white boat lay -waiting for him for an hour, by the landing steps. Helen had more than -half expected him, with trembling, delightful anticipations; how many -times did she run to look in the glass? how many times re-arrange the -flowers in her dress? how many times did she dart to the verandah as a -manly step came up the road? But, alas! after an hour's expectation, -her hopes were dashed to the ground by Miss Lizzie Caggett. - -"The _Scotia_ has sailed!" she screamed out from the pathway. "Come up -to the flagstaff, and see the last of her." - -It was the custom for the ladies on Ross to take constitutionals -before breakfast, and Helen, on her way to the top of the hill with -Miss Lizzie, was joined by Mrs. Creery, Mrs. Home, and Mrs. Durand, -all discussing the previous evening's dissipation. Helen was (they all -remarked) unusually silent: generally she was full of fun and spirits. -She stood aloof, looking after the receding steamer, and said to -herself, "What if he should never come back!" - -But this was a merely passing thought that she silenced immediately. -Mr. Lisle was, as every one knew, a man of his word, and never broke a -promise. - -The little group of ladies stood watching the smoke of the steamer -become smaller and smaller till it vanished altogether, and Helen, as -she turned her face away from the sea at last, had a suspicion of tears -in her eyes,—tears which her companions attributed to Mr. Quentin. -As she walked down the hill with Mrs. Home, that warm-hearted little -lady, who was leaning on her, pressed her arm in token of sympathy, and -whispered in a significant tone,— - -"He will come back, dear." - -"So he will," agreed Helen, also in a whisper, blushing scarlet as she -spoke. But she and Mrs. Home were not thinking of the same person! - - - - -CHAPTER XX. - -"A GREAT BATTLE." - - "But 'twas a famous victory." - - _Southey._ - - -IT is perhaps needless to mention that Mrs. Creery made it her -business, and considered it her duty, to circulate the intelligence -that she had received about Mr. Lisle without unnecessary delay. She -read portions of the letter referring to him, in "strict confidence," -to every one she could get hold of, and the missive was nearly worn -out from constant folding and unfolding. If any one ventured to impugn -her testimony, she would lay her hand upon her pocket with a dramatic -gesture, and say,— - -"That's nonsense! I've got it all here in black and white. I always -knew that there was a screw loose about that man. Perhaps you will all -be guided by _me_ another time! I'm an excellent judge of character, as -my sister, Lady Grubb, declares. She always says, 'You cannot go far -wrong if you listen to Eliza'—that's me," pointing to her breast bone -with a plump forefinger. Then she would produce the billet and, after -much clearing of throat, commence to read what she already knew by -heart. - -"'You ask me if I can tell you anything about a Mr. Lisle, a mysterious -person who has lately come to the Andamans; very dark, age over thirty, -slight in figure, shabby and idle, close about himself, and with a -curious, deliberate way of speaking; supposed to have been in the army, -and to have come from Bengal. Christian name unknown, initial letter -G.'" - -(It sounded exactly like a description in a police notice.) - -"'My dear Mrs. Creery, I know him well, and he may well be close about -himself and his affairs'"—here it was Mrs. Creery's cue to pause and -smack her lips with unction. "'If he is the person you so accurately -describe, he is a Captain Lisle, a black sheep who was turned out of a -regiment in Bengal on account of some very shady transactions on the -turf.'"—"He told me himself he was fond of riding," Mrs. Creery would -supplement, as if this fact clenched the business. "'He was bankrupt, -and had a fearful notoriety in every way. No woman who respected -herself would be seen speaking to him! The Andamans, no doubt, suit him -very well at present, and offer him a new field for his energies, and -a harbour of refuge at the same time. Do not let any one cash a cheque -for him, and warn all the young ladies in the settlement that he is a -_married_ man!'" - -"There," Mrs. Creery would conclude, with a toss of her topee, "what do -you think of that?" - -"Mr. Lisle is not here to speak for himself," ventured Helen on one -occasion. "_Les absents ont toujours tort._" - -It was new to see Helen adopt an insurrectionary attitude. Mrs. Creery -stared. - -"Nonsense—stuff and nonsense," angrily. "And let me tell you, Helen -Denis, that it is not at all maidenly or modest for a young girl like -you to be taking up the cudgels for a notorious reprobate like this -Lisle." - -"I'm sure he is not a reprobate, and I'm certain you are mistaken," -rejoined Helen bravely. - -Here the elder lady flamed out, and thumped her umbrella violently on -the ground, and cried in her highest key,— - -"Then why did he go away? He knew that I had heard about him, for I -told him so to his face. I never say behind a person's back what I -won't say to their face." (Oh! Mrs. Creery, Mrs. Creery!) "And it is a -very remarkable coincidence, that in less than twelve hours, he was out -of the place! How do you account for that, eh?" - -She paused for breath, and once more proceeded triumphantly,— - -"He will never show here again, believe me; and, after all, I am -thankful to say he has done no great harm! As far as _I_ know he ran -no bills in the bazaar, and certainly neither you nor Lizzie Caggett -lost your hearts to him!" - -Helen became very pale, her lips quivered, and she was unable to reply -for a moment. Then she said,— - -"At any rate, I believe in him, Mrs. Creery,—and always will; deeds -are better than words. Have you forgotten the wreck?" - -"Forgotten it?" she screamed. "Am I ever likely to get it out of my -head? Only for my calling myself hoarse, you and Mr. Lisle would both -have been murdered in that hole of a cabin! You know I told you not to -go down, and you would, and see what you got by it." - -There was not the slightest use in arguing with this lady, who not -only imposed upon others, but also upon herself: she had a distorted -mind, that idealized everything connected with her own actions, and -deprecated, and belittled, the deeds of other people! The only persons -who had _not_ heard the horrible tale about Mr. Lisle were the Durands -and the general; the latter was a singularly astute gentleman, and -never lost a certain habit of cool military promptitude, even when in -retreat. Each time Mrs. Creery had exhibited symptoms of extracting a -letter from her pocket, he had escaped! The Durands were Mr. Lisle's -friends,—a fact that lowered them many fathoms in Mrs. Creery's -estimation, and were consequently the very last to hear of the scandal! - -About a fortnight after the departure of the _Scotia_, the general -gave one of his usual large dinner-parties; every one in Ross was -invited, and about twenty-four sat down to the table. When the meal -was over, and the ladies had pulled a few crackers, and sipped their -glass of claret, they all filed off into the drawing-room in answer -to Mrs. Creery's rather dramatic signal, and there they looked over -photographs, noted the alterations in each other's dresses, drank -coffee, and conversed in groups. In due time the conversation turned -upon that ever fertile topic, "Mr. Lisle," and Mrs. Graham, who was -seated beside Mrs. Durand, little knowing what she was doing, fired -the first shot, by regretting very much "that Mr. Lisle had turned -out to be such a dreadful character, so utterly different from what -he seemed." Encouraged by one or two cleverly-put questions from her -neighbour, she unfolded the whole story. Meantime, Mrs. Durand sat and -listened, in rigid silence, her lips pressed firmly together, her hands -tightly locked in her pale-blue satin lap. When the recital had come -to an end, she turned her grave eyes on her companion, and said in her -most impressive manner,— - -"_How_ do you know this?" - -"Oh, it's well known, it's all over the place. Mrs. Creery had a -letter," glancing over to where that lady reclined in a comfortable -chair, with a serene expression on her face, and a gently-nodding -diadem. - -"Mrs. Creery," said Mrs. Durand, raising her voice, which was -singularly clear and penetrating, "pray what is this story that you -have been telling every one about Mr. Lisle?" - -This warlike invocation awoke the good lady from her doze, and, like -a battle-steed, she lifted her head, and, as it were, sniffed the -conflict from afar! - -"I've been telling nothing but the truth, Mrs. Durand"—rousing herself -at once to an upright position—"and you are most welcome to _hear_ it, -though he _is_ a friend of yours," and she tossed her diadem as much as -to say "Come on!" - -"Thank you! Then will you be so very kind as to repeat what you have -heard," returned Mrs. Durand with a freezing politeness that made the -other ladies look at each other significantly. There was going to be a -fight, and they felt a thrill of mingled delight and apprehension at -the prospect. - -Bold Mrs. Durand was the only woman in the island who had never veiled -her crest to Mrs. Creery. She was now about to challenge her to single -combat—yes, they all saw it in her face! - -"I always knew that there was something very wrong about that man," -began the elder lady in her usual formula, and figuratively placing her -lance in rest. "People who have nothing to hide, are never ashamed to -speak of their concerns, but no one ever got a word out of Mr. Lisle, -and I am sure he received every encouragement to be open! He was in the -army, he admitted _that_ against his will, and that was all. He never -deceived _me_;—I knew he was without any resources, I—knew he was out -at elbows, I knew——" - -"Pray spare us your opinion, and tell us what _facts_ you have to go -upon," interrupted Mrs. Durand, calmly cutting short this flow of -denunciation. - -"I have a letter from a friend at Simla," unconsciously seeking her -pocket, "a letter," she retorted proudly, "which you can _read_, -saying that he was cashiered for conduct unbecoming an officer and a -gentleman, that he is a bankrupt, and a swindler, and a married man," -as if this last enormity crowned all. - -"It is not true—not a word of it!" replied Mrs. Durand, as coolly as -if she were merely saying, "How do you do?" - -"Not true! nonsense; is he not dark, aged over thirty, name Lisle? -did he not hang about the settlement for six months living on his -wits? Of course it is true," rejoined the elder lady, with an air that -proclaimed that she had not merely crushed, but pulverized, her foe! - -"Lisle is not an uncommon name, and I know that my friend is not the -original of your flattering little sketch." - -"But I tell you that he _is_! I can prove it; I have it all in black -and white!" cried Mrs. Creery furiously—her temper had now gone by -the board. Who was this Mrs. Durand that she should dare to contradict -her? She saw that they were face to face in the lists, and that the -other ladies were eager spectators of the tourney; it was not merely -a dispute over Mr. Lisle, it was a struggle for the social throne, -whoever conquered now would be mistress of the realm. This woman must -be browbeaten, silenced, and figuratively slain! - -"I have it all in writing, and pray what can _you_ bring against that?" -she demanded imperiously. - -"Simply my word, which I hope will stand good," returned the other -firmly. - -Mrs. Creery laughed derisively, and tossed her head and then replied,— - -"Words go for nothing!" - -This was rude—it was more than rude, it was insulting! - -"Am I to understand that you do not believe mine?" said Mrs. Durand, -making a noble effort to keep her temper. - -"Oh," ignoring the question, "I have never doubted that _you_ could -tell us more about Mr. Lisle than most people, and a woman will say -anything for a man—a man who is a friend," returned the other lady -with terrible significance. - -This was hard-hitting with a vengeance, still Mrs. Durand never quailed. - -"Shall I tell you who Mr. Lisle really is? I did not intend to mention -it, as he begged me to be silent." - -(Here Mrs. Creery's smile was really worth going a quarter of a mile to -see.) - -"I have known him for many years; he is an old friend of mine, and of -my brothers." - -"Oh, of your brothers!" interrupted her antagonist, looking up at the -ceiling with a derisive laugh and an adequate expression of incredulity. - -"I am not specially addressing myself to _you_, Mrs. Creery," exclaimed -Mrs. Durand at white heat, but still retaining wonderful command of her -temper. "My brothers were at Eton with him," she continued, looking -towards her other listeners. "He is the second son of Lord Lingard and -the Honourable Gilbert Lisle." - -A silence ensued, during which you might have heard a pin drop; Mrs. -Creery's face became of a dull beetroot colour, and her eyes looked as -if they were about to take leave of their sockets. - -"And what brought him masquerading here?" she panted forth at last. - -"He was not masquerading, he came in his own name," returned Mrs. -Durand with calm decision. "He left the service on coming in for a -large property, and spends most of his time travelling about; he is -fond"—addressing herself specially to the other ladies, and rather -wondering at Helen Denis's scarlet cheeks—"of exploring out-of-the-way -places. I believe he has been to Siberia and Central America. The -Andamans were a novelty; he came for a few weeks and stayed for a few -months because he liked the fishing and boating and the unconventional -life." - -"And who is the other Lisle?" - -"Some distant connection, I believe; every family has its black sheep." - -"Why did he not let us know his position?" gasped Mrs. Creery. - -"Because he thinks it of so little importance; he wished, I conclude, -to stand on his own merits, and to be valued for himself alone. He -found his proper level here, did he not, Mrs. Creery? He lived in the -palace of truth for once!" and she laughed significantly—undoubtedly -turn-about is fair play, it was her turn now. - -"I must say that I wonder what he saw in the Andamans," exclaimed Mrs. -Graham at last. - -"One attraction, no doubt, was, because he could go away whenever he -liked; another, that he was left to himself—no one ran after him!" and -Mrs. Durand laughed again. "In London he is made so much of, as every -one knows he is wealthy and a bachelor, and that his eldest brother has -only one lung! Besides all these advantages, he is extremely popular, -and is beset by invitations to shoot, to dance, to dine, to yacht, from -year's end to year's end. Well, he got a complete holiday from all that -kind of thing _here_!" - -Then she recollected that in castigating Mrs. Creery and Miss Caggett -she was including totally innocent people—people who had always been -civil to the Honourable Gilbert Lisle, such as Mrs. Graham, Mrs. Home, -Miss Denis, and others, and she added,— - -"All the same, I should tell you that he enjoyed his stay here -immensely, he told me so, and that he would always have a kindly -recollection of Port Blair, and of the friends he had made in the -settlement." - -(Mrs. Durand, thought Helen, does not know everything; she evidently -is not aware that he is coming back.) The speaker paused at the word -settlement, for she had made the discovery that most of the gentlemen -had entered and were standing in the background while she had been, as -it were, addressing the house. A general impression had been gathered -about Mr. Lisle also, as Captain Rodney whispered to Dr. Malone, that -"Mrs. Creery had evidently had what she would be all the better for, -viz., a rare good setting down." - -Infatuated Mrs. Creery! deposed, and humbled potentate, if there was -one thing that was even nearer to her heart than Nip, it was the owner -of a _title_. - -She could hardly grasp any tangible idea just at present, she -was so completely dazed. It was as if Mrs. Durand had let off a -catherine-wheel in her face. - -Mr. Lisle an Honourable! Mr. Lisle immensely rich! Mr. Lisle, whom she -had offered to pay for his photographs, whom she had never met without -severely snubbing. And all the time he was the son of a lord, and she -had unconsciously lost a matchless opportunity of cementing a lifelong -friendship with one of the aristocracy. Alas, for poor Mrs. Creery, her -mind was chaos! - -After the storm there ensued the proverbial calm; the piano was opened, -and people tried to look at ease, and to pretend, forsooth, that they -were not thinking of the recent grand engagement, but it was all a -hollow sham. - -Helen, if it had been in her power, would have endowed that brave -woman, Mrs. Durand, with a Victoria Cross for valour, and, indeed, -every lady present secretly offered her a personal meed of admiration -and gratitude. She had slain their dragon, who would never more dare -to rear her head and tyrannize over the present or vilify the absent. -Surely there should be some kind of domestic decoration accorded to -those who arm themselves with moral courage, and go forth and rescue -the reputation of their friends. - -Miss Caggett sat in the background, looking unusually grave and gloomy, -no doubt thinking with remorseful stings of _her_ lost opportunities. -Dr. Malone grinned and nodded, and rubbed his rather large bony hands -ecstatically, and whispered to Captain Rodney that "_he_ had always had -a notion that Lisle the photographer was a prince in disguise!" - -As for Mrs. Creery, as before mentioned, that truculent lady was -absolutely shattered; she resembled an ill constructed automaton who -had been knocked down and then set up limply in a chair, or a woman in -a dream—and that a bad one. After a while she spoke in a strangely -subdued voice, and said,— - -"General, I don't feel very well; that coffee of yours has given me a -terrible headache. If you will send for my jampan, I'll just go quietly -home." - -Thus she withdrew, with a pitiable remnant of her former dignity, her -host escorting her politely to the entrance, and placing her in her -chair with faint regrets. Every one knew perfectly well, that it was -_not_ the General's coffee that had routed Mrs. Creery, it was she -whose beautiful contralto was now filling the drawing-room as her late -antagonist tottered down the steps—it was that valiant lady, Mrs. -Durand! - - - - -CHAPTER XXI. - -THE NICOBARS. - - "Once I loved a maiden fair, - But she did deceive me." - - -WHEN last we saw Mr. Quentin, he had just succeeded in convincing his -companion that he was Miss Denis's favoured suitor. This was well—this -was satisfactory. But it was neither well, nor yet satisfactory, to -behold Lisle calmly appropriate the posy ring, and put it in his -waistcoat pocket. - -"Hullo! I say, you know," expostulated Apollo, "give me back my -property." - -"No," returned the other very coolly; "it was originally mine, and as -it has once more come into my hands, I will keep it." - -Mr. Quentin became crimson with anger and dismay. - -"I found it on the wreck, and gave it to Miss Denis, who said she -valued it greatly, but as she has passed it on to you, I see that her -words were a mere _façon de parler_, and if she asks you what you have -done with it, you can tell her that you showed it to me, and that _I_ -retained it." - -There was a high-handed air about this bare-faced robbery that simply -took Mr. Quentin's breath away, and the whole proceeding put him in, as -he expressed it himself, "such an awful hat;" for he had never meant -to steal the ring—he only wanted the loan of it for half an hour, -and now that it had served his purpose, it was to be restored to its -mistress; but here was Lisle actually compelling him to be a _thief_! -Vainly he stammered, blustered, and figuratively flapped his wings! -he might as well have stammered and blustered to the wall. Lisle was -impassive—moreover, the boat was waiting; and Abdul returned to Ross -and Fatima, plus twenty rupees, but minus the ring. And what a search -there was for that article when Helen Denis missed it; rooms were -turned out, matting was taken up, every hole and corner was searched, -but all to no purpose—considering that the ring was, as we know, on -its way to the Nicobars. - -Fatima, the Cleopatra-like, was touched when she saw her Missy actually -weeping for her lost property; but all the same, she positively assured -her that she had never seen it since she had had it on her finger -last—indeed, if it had been in her power to return it she would have -done so, for Helen offered a considerable reward to whoever would -restore her the most precious of her possessions. Days and weeks went -by, but no ring was found. - -The _Scotia_ left Calcutta once every six weeks, calling firstly -at Port Blair, then at the Nicobars, then Rangoon, and so back to -Calcutta; and the reason of Mr. Quentin's hurried departure was that -the order to start for the Nicobars came in the steamer that was to -take him there, otherwise there would have been the usual delay of six -weeks. Once on board, he went straight below to his cabin, turned in, -and recouped himself for his sleepless night. He slept soundly all day -long, having immense capacities in that line. Mr. Hall, the settlement -officer, walked the deck with Mr. Lisle, and subsequently they -descended to the saloon and played chess. The group near the flagstaff -had not been unnoticed by the passengers of the _Scotia_ as she steamed -by under the hill; there had been some waving of handkerchiefs, but -Mr. Lisle's had never left his pocket. He had something else in that -selfsame pocket that forbade such demonstration—the fatal ring, and a -ring that bore for motto, as he had now discovered, "Love me and leave -me not"—a motto that implied a bitter mockery of the present occasion. -This wreck ring was assuredly an unlucky token! Only last night, and -Helen had seemed to him the very incarnation of simplicity, truth, and -faith—what a contrast to those many lovely London sirens who smiled -on him—and his _rent roll_! Never again would he be deceived by -nineteen summers, and sweet grey eyes; no, never again. This was the -determination he came to, as he paced the deck that night beneath the -stars. - -The next morning the _Scotia_ was off the low, long coast of the -Nicobars; so low was it, that it resembled a forest standing in the -water. In the midst of this seeming forest there was a narrow passage -that a casual eye might easily overlook; a passage just barely wide -enough to admit the steamer, with a natural arch of rock on one side; -the water was clear, emerald green, and very deep, and along the wooded -shores of the entrance to Camorta were many white native huts, built on -wooden piles, scattered up and down the high banks clothed in jungle. -Soon the passage widened into a large inland bay, lined with mangroves -and poison-breathing jungles, save for a clearing on the left-hand -side, where there was a rude pier, a bazaar of native houses, and some -larger wooden buildings on the overhanging hill. This was Camorta, the -capital of the Nicobars, to which Port Blair was as London to some -small provincial town. - -The natives were totally different to the Andamanese; they were Malays, -with brown skins, flat heads, and wide mouths, and came swarming round -the three Europeans as they landed, and commenced to climb the hill. -One, who was very sprucely dressed in a blue frock-coat, grey trousers, -white tie, and tall hat, and flourished a gold watch, was bare-footed, -and had it made known to Mr. Lisle, before he was five minutes on -_terra firma_, that he was prepared to give him one thousand cocoa-nuts -in exchange for his boots. - -The buildings on the hill included a big, gaunt-looking bungalow, in -which the three new arrivals took up their quarters. It was rather -destitute of furniture, but commanded a matchless view of this great -inland bay and far-away hills; it also overlooked a rather suggestive -object, an old white ship, that lay off Camorta, the crew of which -had been killed and eaten, many years previously, by the inhospitable -Nicobarese! Gilbert Lisle had never in all his wanderings been in any -place he detested as cordially as his present residence. Days seemed -endless, the nights hot and stifling, the sun scorching, the sport -bad. And other things, such probably as his own frame of mind, did not -tend to enhance the charms of Camorta. Mr. Hall had ample occupation; -Jim Quentin an unlimited capacity for sleep. He had also a box full of -literature, a good brand of cigars, and, moreover, was at peace with -himself and all mankind. He could do a number of doubtful actions, and -yet he always managed to retain himself in his own good graces. He had -squared Lisle, who was going away direct from the Nicobars to Rangoon, -thence to Singapore and Japan. This was a most desirable move, and -there would be no more raking up of awkward subjects, and _he_ would -never be found out. His period of expatriation was nearly at an end, -he was financially the better for his exile at Port Blair, and then, -hurrah for a hill-station, fresh fields, and pretty faces, or, better -still, Piccadilly and the Park! Meanwhile, he was at the Nicobars, and -there he had to stay, so he accepted the present philosophically, and -slept as much as possible, and grumbled when awake at the food, the -climate, and the heads of his department, and was not nearly as much -to be pitied as he imagined, not half as much as Lisle, who neither -read novels nor slept many hours at a stretch, or had agreeable -anticipations of future flirtations in hill-stations. He was remarkably -silent, and smoked many of the drowsy hours away. When he _did_ join in -the conversation, his remarks were so cynical, and his words so sharply -edged, that Mr. Quentin was positively in awe of him, and was more -than usually wary in the choice of his topics. Out of doors, he shot -the ugly, greedy caymen, caught turtle, and sketched, or explored the -country recklessly; making his way through the rank, dank jungle, where -matted creepers hung from tree to tree, and snakes and spotted vipers -darted up their hideous heads as he brushed past their moist, dark -hiding-places. - -A good deal of Mr. Lisle's time was spent in absolute idleness, and -though the name of Helen Denis never crossed his lips, he had by no -means cast her out of his mind. Hourly he fought with his thoughts: -hourly he weighed all the _pros_ and _cons_. Her acceptance of -Quentin's attentions went to balance against her coolness to him -subsequently; her blushes when he appeared were a set-off against her -solemn denial of any understanding between them; her evident agitation -when he himself had wooed her was neutralized by the bestowal of his -ring upon Quentin—the ring kicked the beam; the ring was the verdict. -After all, Quentin was ten times more likely to engage a girl's fancy -than himself. Apollo was handsome, gay, and fascinating—when he chose; -_he_ was sunburnt, shabby, rather morose, and seemingly a pauper; -that part of it was his own fault, he had no one but himself to blame -for that. Query, would it have been better if he had permitted the -truth to leak out, and allowed the community to know that they had the -Honourable Gilbert Lisle, the owner of ten thousand a year, dwelling -among them? In some ways things would have been pleasanter, but he had -not come down to the Andamans for society, but for sea-fishing, and -sailing, and an unfettered, out-door life. And when he was accidentally -thrown into the company of a pretty girl, who was as pleasant to him as -if he were a millionaire, who smiled on him as brightly as on others, -in far more flourishing circumstances, who could ask him to resist the -temptation that had thrust itself into his way—the triumph of winning -her in the guise of a poor and un-pretending suitor? - -The temptation led him on, and dazzled him, and for a moment he seemed -to have the prize in his hands; and what a prize! especially to him, -who was accustomed to being flattered, deferred to, and courted in a -manner that accounted for his rather cynical views of society. But, -alas! his treasure-trove (his simple-minded island maiden), had been -rudely wrested from him ere he had realized its possession; and -yet, after all, it was no loss, the apparently priceless jewel was -imitation, was paste! - -Why had she told him a deliberate lie? He might forgive a little -coquetry (perhaps); he might forgive the unpleasant fact of her having -"made a fool of him," as his friend had so delicately suggested, but a -falsehood, uttered without a falter or a blush, _never_! - -Week succeeded week, and each day seemed as long as seven—each week -a month. Lisle, the ardent admirer of strange scenes, and strange -countries, was callous and indifferent to the natural beauties of the -place. He had actually come to _hate_ the magnificent foliage, golden -mid-day hazes, and the gorgeous, blinding sunsets, of these sleepy -southern islands. All he craved for, was to get away from such sights, -and never, never, see them more! Latterly, he found ample occupation in -nursing Mr. Hall to the best of his ability—Mr. Hall, who had fallen a -victim to the deadly Nicobar fever, and tossed and moaned and raved all -through the scorching days and suffocating nights, and was under the -delusion that the hand that smoothed his pillow, and held the cup to -his parched lips, and bathed his burning temples, was his mother's! Jim -Quentin (the selfish) merely contented himself with languidly inquiring -after the patient once a day, and shutting himself up in his own side -of the bungalow, as it were in a fastness, partaking of his meals -alone, totally ignoring his companions, since one of them was sick, and -the other was stupid. - -The thin veneer of Mr. Jim's charm of manner, could not stand much -knocking about; a good deal of it had worn off, and Mr. Lisle beheld -him as he really was; selfish to the core, vain and arrogant,—yet -not proud, not very sensitive on the subject of borrowing money, and -with rather hazy ideas with regard to the interpretation of the word -"honour." - -Lisle, in his heart, secretly despised his fascinating inmate; but, -needless to say, he endeavoured to keep this sentiment entirely in the -background, though, now and then, a winged word like a straw, might -have shown a looker-on which way the wind blew. - -At length, the long-desired _Scotia_ came steaming up Camorta Bay, -like a goaler to set free her prisoners; she remained off the pier -for a few hours, and Mr. Lisle was unfeignedly delighted to see her -once more, for she was to carry him away to Rangoon, to civilization, -occupation and oblivion. His traps were ready, but ere he took leave -of his companions and went on board, he sat for a while reading the -newly-arrived letters in the verandah, along with Jim Quentin. - -"Hullo!" exclaimed the latter, suddenly looking up. "I say, what do you -think! here is a letter from Parkes, and poor old Denis is dead!" - -"Dead?" ejaculated his companion. - -"Yes, listen to this,"—reading aloud,—"he was on the ranges one -morning, and in trying to save a native child who ran across the line -of fire, he was shot through the heart. We are all very much cut up, -and as to Miss Denis, the poor girl is so utterly broken-down you would -scarcely know her." - -"It must have been a fearful shock," said Mr. Lisle. "I'm very sorry -for Denis, very. Of course you will go back at once—now!" - -"How?" thrown completely off his guard, "why?" - -"How? by the _Enterprise_, which will be here in three days with -stores, and why? really, I scarcely expected you to ask _me_ such a -question. She——" - -"Oh," interrupting quickly, "oh, yes! I quite understand what you mean. -Oh, of course, of course!" - -After this ensued a rather long silence, and then Mr. Lisle spoke,— - -"I now remember rather a strange thing," he said reflectively. "Denis -and I were looking over the wall of the new cemetery together one -evening, and I recollect his saying, that he wondered how long it would -be till the first grave was dug.—Strange that it should be his own!" - -"Strange indeed!" acquiesced his companion tranquilly, "but, of course, -everything must have a beginning. Here's a Lascar coming up from the -pier," he added, rising hastily, and collecting his letters as he -spoke, "and we had better be making a start." - -In another hour Mr. James Quentin was walking back to the bungalow -alone. As he stood on the hill above the pier, and watched the smoke of -the departing steamer above the jungle, he felt a curious and unusual -sensation, he actually felt,—his almost fossilized conscience told -him,—that he had not behaved altogether well to Lisle! Lisle, who had -been his friend by deeds, not words; Lisle, who had borne the blow he -had dealt him like a man; had never once allowed a word, or allusion -that might reflect on Helen, to pass his lips, and had accepted the -ring with unquestioning faith. Yes, Lisle, though rather silent and -unusually dull (for generally he was such an amusing fellow), had -taken his disappointment well. Mr. Quentin, however, rated such -disappointments very lightly. Judging others by himself, they were mere -pin-pricks at the time, and as such consigned to the limbo of complete -oblivion within a week. - -"After all," he said aloud, as he slowly strolled back with his hands -in his pockets, "I am in reality his _best_ friend! It would never have -done for him, to entangle himself with a girl without connections, a -girl without a penny, a girl he picked up at the Andamans! Haw! haw! by -Jove! how people would laugh! No, no, Gilbert Lisle, you must do better -than that; you will have to look a little higher for the future Lady -Lingard. I don't suppose she has a brass farthing, and she certainly -would not suit my book at all." - -Needless to add, that this mirror of chivalry did not return to Port -Blair an hour sooner than was his original intention. - - - - -CHAPTER XXII. - -THE FIRST GRAVE. - - "They laid him by the pleasant shore, - And in the hearing of the wave." - - _Tennyson._ - - -THE news about Colonel Denis was only too true! He had started for the -ranges on Aberdeen one morning about nine o'clock, as his regiment -was going through their annual course of musketry, and as he stood in -a marker's butt, close to the targets, a native child from the Sepoy -lines suddenly emerged from some unsuspected hiding-place, where she -had been lying _perdue_, and ran right into the open, across the line -of fire. Colonel Denis rushed out to drag her into shelter, but just -as he seized her, a bullet from a Martini-Henry struck him between the -shoulders, and without a groan, he fell forward on his face dead. Yes, -he was quite dead when they hurried up to him. The shock to every one -was stupefying; they were speechless with horror; but five minutes -previously he had been talking to them so cheerfully, and had to all -appearances as good a life as any one present,—and now here he lay -motionless on his face in the sand, a dark stain widening on his white -coat, and a frightened little native child whimpering beside him. - -"Instantaneous," said Dr. Malone, with an unprofessional huskiness in -his voice, when they brought him running to the spot. "What an awful -thing, and no one to blame, unless that little beggar's mother," -glancing at the imp, who stared back at the Sahib with all the power of -her frightened black eyes. "Poor Denis; but it was just like him,—he -never thought of himself." This was his epitaph, the manner in which he -met his death, "was just like him." - -And who was to break the terrible tidings to his daughter? People asked -one another the question with bated breath and anxious eyes, as they -stood around. Who was to go and tell her, that her father, to whom she -had bidden a playful good-bye an hour ago, was dead, that that smiling -wave of his hand had been, Farewell for ever! - - * * * * * - -It was about eleven o'clock, and Helen was sitting at the piano, -playing snatches of different things, unable to settle down to any -special song or piece. She had felt curiously restless all the morning, -and was thinking that she would run over and have a chat with Mrs. -Home,—for she was too idle to do anything else,—when a sudden loud -sob made her start up from the music-stool and turn round somewhat -nervously. - -There she beheld her ayah, Fatima, staring at her through the purdah, -but the instant she was discovered, she quickly dropped it, and -vanished. It never occurred to Helen to connect Fatima's tears with -herself, or her affairs; it was more than probable that she had been -having a quarrel with her husband, and that they had been beating -one another, as was their wont,—when words were exhausted. She was -thinking of following her handmaiden, but she believed it would only be -the old story, "Abdul, plenty bad man, very wicked rascal," when her -ear caught the sound of footsteps coming up the front pathway. They -halted, then it was _not_ Mrs. Creery; she never did that, and peeping -over the blind, she beheld to her amazement, Mr. Latimer and Mrs. Home. -And Mrs. Home was crying, what could it be? And they were both coming -to her. - -A pang of apprehension seemed to seize her heart with a clutch of ice, -some unknown, some dreadful trouble was on its way to _her_. She sprang -down the steps and met them, saying,— - -"What is the matter? Oh! Mr. Latimer, you have come to tell me -something—something," growing very white, "about papa?" - -Mr. Latimer himself was deadly pale, and seemed to find considerable -difficulty in speaking. At last he said,— - -"Yes; he has been hurt on the ranges." - -"Then let me go to him at once—at once." - -"Oh, my dear, my dear," cried Mrs. Home, bursting into tears, "you must -prepare yourself for trouble." - -"I am prepared; please let me go to him. Oh, I am losing time; where is -he? Why, they are bringing him home," as her quick ear caught the heavy -tramp of measured feet, bearing some burden,—an hospital dhoolie. - -Before either of her visitors had guessed at her intention, she had -flown down the pathway, and met the procession. She hastily pulled -aside the curtain, and took her father's hand in hers. But what was -this? this motionless form, with closed eyes? She had never seen it -before in all her life, but who does not recognize Death, even at -their first meeting? - -"Oh! he is dead," she shrieked, and fell insensible on the pathway. - -For a long time she remained unconscious, and "it was best so" people -whispered. There were so many sad arrangements to be made. The General -himself superintended everything with regard to the funeral, which was -to take place at sundown, as was the invariable custom in the East. -There, there is no gradual parting as in England, where white-covered -dead lies amid the living for days. In India such hospitality is never -shown to death, he is thrust forth the very day he comes. The wrench is -agonizing, and, as in a case like the present, where death was sudden, -the shock overwhelming. - -To think that you may be laughing and talking with a relative, friend, -or neighbour, one evening, that they have been in the very best of -health, as little anticipating the one great change as yourself, and -that by the very next night, they may be dead and _buried_! In Eastern -countries, there seems to be almost a cruel promptness about the -funerals, but it is inevitable. By five o'clock everything was ready -in the bungalow on the hill; the bier and bearers, the mourners, the -wreaths of flowers, and the Union Jack for pall. Colonel Denis had that -morning been given a huge bunch of white flowers for Helen; lovely -lilies, ferns and orchids, that did not grow on Ross; he had brought -home and presented the offering with pride, and she, being unusually -lazy, had left the flowers in a big china bowl, intending to arrange -them after breakfast. - -How little are we able to see into the future! Happily for ourselves. -Would Colonel Denis have carried home that big bunch of lilies with -such alacrity had he known that they were destined to decorate his own -coffin! - -In deference to Helen, who was now alive to every sound, the large -_cortège_ almost stole from the door, and the band was mute. The -cemetery was on Aberdeen, not far from the fatal ranges, and the -funeral went by boat. Once on the sea, that profoundly melancholy -strain, "The Dead March in Saul," was heard, after three preliminary -muffled beats of the drum; and it sounded, if possible, more weird -and sad than usual. As its strains were wafted across the water, and -reached the bungalow on the hill, Helen sat up on the sofa, and looked -wildly at Mrs. Home and Mrs. Durand. - -"I—I—hear—the 'Dead March' in the distance! Who—who is it for? It -is not playing for papa.—It is impossible, _impossible_. See, here are -some of the flowers he brought me this morning—there are his gloves, -that he left to have mended! I know," wringing her hands as she spoke, -"that people do die, but never—never like this! This is some fearful -dream; or I am going mad; or I have had a long illness, and I have been -off my head. Oh, that band—" now putting her fingers in her ears, and -burying her face in the cushions, "it is a dream-band—a nightmare!" - -After a very long silence, there was another sound from across the -water—the distant rattle of musketry repeated thrice, and now Mrs. -Home, and Mrs. Durand, were aware that the last honours had been paid -to Colonel Denis,—who had been alive and as well as they were that -very morning,—and was now both dead and buried. - - * * * * * - -Nothing short of the very _plainest_ speaking had been able to keep -Mrs. Creery from forcing herself into Helen's presence. But Mrs. Home, -Mr. Latimer, and Dr. Malone, were as the three hundred heroic Greeks -who kept the pass at Thermopylæ. They formed a body-guard she could not -pass. - -Every one, even the last-mentioned matron, desired to have Helen under -their roof. Mrs. King came up from Viper, all the way in the mid-day -sun, to say that, "Of course, every one _must_ see, that the farther -Miss Denis was from old associations, the better, and that her room -was ready." Mrs. Graham arrived from Chatham with the same story; -but in the end, Helen went to Mrs. Home, going across with her after -dark, like a girl walking in a trance. Sleep, kind sleep, did come to -her, thanks to a strong opiate, and thus, for a time, she and her new -acquaintance, grief, were parted. The pretty bungalow on the side of -the hill, so bright and full of life only last night, was dark and -silent now. One inmate slept a sleep to deaden sorrow, the other lay -alone upon the distant mainland, under the silent stars, within sound -of the sea—and the new cemetery contained its first grave. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIII. - -"WAS IT POSSIBLE!" - - "Joy comes and goes, hope ebbs and flows, - Like the wave. - Change doth unknit the tranquil strength of man; - Love lends life a little grace, - A few sad smiles; and then, - Both are laid in one cold place, - In the grave." - - _M. Arnold._ - - -DAYS crawled by, and Helen gradually and painfully began to realize -her lot. Hers was a silent, stony grief (now that the first torrent of -tears had been shed) of that undemonstrative, reserved nature, that it -is so difficult to alleviate, and that shrinks from outward sympathy. -People (ladies) came to her, and sat with her, and held her hand, and -wept, but she did not; this grief that had come upon her unawares, -seemed almost to have turned her to stone. She opened her heart to Mrs. -Home only; and in answer to affectionate attempts at consolation, she -said,— - -"I sometimes sit and wonder, wonder if it is _true_! You see, Mrs. -Home, my case is so different to others. Now, if you were to lose one -child—which heaven forbid—you have still eight remaining; if Colonel -Home was taken from you, you have your children; but _I_ have no one -left. Papa was all I had, and I am alone in the world; I can scarcely -believe it!" - -"My dear, you must not say so! you have many friends, and friends are -sometimes far better than one's own kin. Then there is your aunt. I -wrote to her myself last mail." - -"Aunt Julia! She is worse than nobody. She is an utter stranger, in -reality, a complete woman of the world. She and I never got on; she was -always saying hard things about _him_!" - -"Well, you won't be with her long, you know! and you cannot say that -you are alone in the world; you know very well that you will not be -alone for long, you understand," squeezing her fingers significantly as -she spoke. - -Helen did understand, and coloured vividly. It seemed to her almost a -sin to think of Gilbert Lisle now, when every thought was dedicated to -her father, when all ideas of love or a lover had been, as it were, -swept out of her mind by the blast of her recent and terrible calamity. - -Mrs. Home noticed the blush, but again attributed its cause to the -wrong person. - - * * * * * - -Colonel Denis' effects were sold off in the usual manner; his -furniture, boat, and guns, were disposed of, his servants dismissed, -and his papers examined. And what discoveries were not made in that -battered old despatch-box! Not of money owing, or startling unpaid -bills, but of large sums due to him; borrowed and forgotten by -impecunious acquaintances—one thousand rupees here, three thousand -rupees there, merely acknowledged by careless, long-forgotten I. O. -U.'s. Then there were receipts for money paid,—drained away yearly by -his father's and wife's creditors—his very pension was mortgaged. How -little he appeared to have spent upon himself. All his life long he had -been toiling hard for other people, who gaily squandered in a week, -what he had accumulated in a year; a thankless task! a leaden burden! - -Apparently he had begun to save of late, presumably for Helen; but, -including the auction, all that could be placed to his daughter's -credit in the bank was only four hundred odd pounds! - -"Say fifteen pounds a year," said Colonel Home, looking blankly at Mr. -Creery. - -"I know he intended to insure his life, he told me so last week." - -"Ah! if he only had. What is to become of the poor girl?" continued -Colonel Home; "fifteen pounds a year won't even keep her in clothes, -let alone in food and house-room. I believe he had very few relations -in England, and see how some of his friends out here have fleeced him!" - -"They ought to be made pay up," returned Mr. Creery. "I'll see to -_that_," he added with stern, determined face. - -"How can they pay up? The fellows who signed those," touching some I. -O. U.'s, "are dead. Here's another, for whom Denis backed a bill; he -went off to Australia years ago. I wonder Tom Denis had not a worse -opinion of his fellow-creatures." - -"In many ways, Tom was a fool; his heart was too soft, his eyes were -always blind to his own interests: some people soon found that out." - -"Well! what is to become of his daughter? That is what puzzles me," -said his listener anxiously. "She is a good girl, and uncommonly -pretty!" - -"Yes; her face is her fortune, and I hope it will stand to her," -rejoined Mr. Creery, dubiously. "But, to set herself off, she should go -into fine society and wear fine clothes, and she has no means to start -her in company where she would meet a likely match. As they say in my -country, 'Ye canna whistle without an upper lip.'" - -"She might not have _far_ to go for a husband," returned Colonel Home -significantly. - -"Ah, well! I believe I _know_ what you mean, but that man will be -needing a fortune. He is too cannie to marry 'a penniless lass without -a lang pedigree!'" - -"My wife has her fancies," said Colonel Home, "and thinks a good deal -of him." - -"So does mine," returned the other, "and has _her_ fancies too; but all -the same—between you and me, Home—I never liked the fellow; you know -who I mean. He is just a gay popinjay, taking his turn out of everybody -that comes in his way." - -(Observe, cannie Scotchman as he was, that all this time, he had never -mentioned any _name_.) - - * * * * * - -Several doors were opened to Helen, offering her a home, but she -steadily resisted all invitations. She felt that she would be occupying -an anomalous position by remaining on at Port Blair, without having any -real claim on any one in the settlement. If there had been some small -children to teach,—save those in the native school,—or if there were -any means by which she could have earned her livelihood, it would have -been different; but, of course, in a place like the Andamans, there was -no such opening. The community were extremely anxious to keep her among -them, and were kinder to her than words could express. Mrs. Graham -besought her most earnestly to remain with her as a sister, and urged -her petition repeatedly. - -"The favour will be conferred by _you_, my dear, and you know it," she -said. "Think of the long, lonely days I spend at Chatham, cut off from -all society in bad weather, and in the monsoon, I sometimes don't see -another white woman for weeks. Imagine the boon your company would be -to me. Remember that your father was an old friend of Dick's, and say -that you will try us for at least a year. We will do our very best to -make you happy." - -And other suggestions were delicately placed before Helen. Would she -remain, not as Miss Denis, but as _Mrs._ somebody? To one and all, she -made the same reply, she must go home, at least, she must go back to -England; her aunt had written, and desired her to return at the first -opportunity, and her aunt was her nearest relation now, and all her -future plans were in her hands. Mrs. Home was returning in March, they -would sail together. - -"If I were not obliged to place Tom and Billy at school, and see after -my big boys, I would not _allow_ you to leave at all, Helen," said her -friend and hostess decidedly, "but would insist on your remaining with -us as one of our family, a kind of eldest daughter." - -Nevertheless, Mrs. Home cherished strong but secret hopes that her -young _protégée_ would stay at Port Blair, in spite of her own -departure. Was not Mr. Quentin expected from Camorta by the very next -mail? - -Mrs. Creery would have liked Helen to remain with some one (not -herself, for she was not given to hospitality). She considered that -she would be a serious loss to the community, and was quite fond -of her in her own way. Why should she not marry Jim Quentin? was a -question she often asked herself in idle, empty moments. It would be -a grand match for a penniless girl; a wedding would be a pleasant -novelty, no matter how quiet, and she herself was prepared to give the -affair her countenance, and to endow the young couple with a set of -plated nut-crackers that had scarcely ever been used! One day, roaming -rather aimlessly through the bazaar, she came across "Ibrahim," Mr. -Quentin's butler, and was not the woman to lose a rich opportunity of -cross-examining such an important functionary. She beckoned him aside -with an imperious wave of the hand, and commenced the conversation by -asking a very foolish question, "When did you hear from your master?" -seeing that there had been no mail in, since she had seen Ibrahim last, -"when is he expected?" - -"Mr. Quentin not my master any more," he returned, with dignity, "I -take leave that time Sahib going Nicobars." - -"Having made your fortune?" drawing down the corner of her mouth as she -spoke. - -"I plenty poor man, where fortune getting?" he replied, with an air of -surprised and injured innocence. - -"Stuff and nonsense! you know you butlers make heaps out of bachelors -like Mr. Quentin, who never look at their accounts, but just pay down -piles of rupees, like the idiots they are; and what about Mr. Lisle?" - -Ibrahim grinned and displayed an ample row of ivory teeth. - -"Ah," with animation, "that very good gentleman, never making no -bobbery! Plenty money got!" - -"Plenty money! How do you know?" - -"First time coming paying half—after two weeks paying _all_;" in -answer to the lady's gesture of astonishment. "Truth I telling! wages, -boats, bazaar, and _all_!" - -"And what did Mr. Quentin say?" - -"Oh," laughing, "telling Lisle, Sahib plenty rupees got, I poor devil! -Mr. Quentin very funny gentleman, making too much bobbery, swearing too -much, throwing boots and bottles, no money giving; I plenty fraiding, -and so I taking leave," concluded Ibrahim majestically. - -This little side-light on Mr. Quentin's manners was a revelation to -Mrs. Creery. And so Lisle was _really_ rich! the dinner she had graced -at Aberdeen (on a mutton day), had been given at _his_ expense, and all -the establishment of servants, coolies, and boatmen had been maintained -by him. She pondered much over this discovery—and, marvellous to -relate, kept it to herself. - -Colonel Denis had now been dead about two months, and his daughter was -once more to be seen out of doors, and walking about the island; but -how different she looked, what a change a few weeks had made in her -appearance. She was clad in a plain black dress, her eyes were dim and -sunken, her face was thin and haggard, her figure had lost its nice -rounded outlines. She was trying to accustom herself to her new lot in -life; to that empty bungalow on the hill-side, that she never passed -without a shudder, for did it not represent the wreck of her home? - -Something else had also been scattered to the winds, blown away into -space like gossamer-web in a gale, I mean that airy fabric known as -"Love's Young Dream." - -She had been dwelling on four words, more than she herself imagined; on -the promise, "I shall come back," breathed under the palm-trees that -night, that saw "flying between the cold moon and the earth, Cupid all -armed!" - - * * * * * - -Helen occasionally spent a day with Mrs. Graham or Mrs. Durand; they -liked to have her with them, and endeavoured by every means in their -power, to distract her mind from dwelling, as it did incessantly, on -her recent loss. One morning, as she sat working in Mrs. Durand's cool, -shady drawing-room, doing her best to seem interested in her hostess' -remarks, they heard some one coming rapidly up the walk, and Captain -Durand sprang up the steps, and entered, holding a bundle of letters in -his hand. - -"The mail is in from Rangoon," he said; "Rangoon and the Nicobars." - -If he and his wife had not been wholly engrossed in sorting their -correspondence, they would doubtless have noticed, that their young -lady guest had suddenly become very red, and then very white, but they -were examining their letters, with the gusto of people to whom such -things are both precious and rare. - -"By the way," exclaimed Captain Durand, looking up at last, "Quentin is -back; I met him on the pier." - -Helen almost held her breath, her heart stood still, whilst her hostess -put into words a question she could not have articulated to save her -life. - -"And Gilbert Lisle, did you see him?" - -"Oh, no! he has gone on to Japan," responded her husband, as he -carelessly tore open a note. "He is a regular bird of passage!" - -"Ah, I _thought_ we should not see him again," rejoined Mrs. Durand, -with a tinge of regret in her voice. - -Helen listened as if she were listening to something about a stranger, -she bent her eyes steadily on her work, and endeavoured to compose her -trembling lips. Mrs. Durand, happening to glance at her, as, opening -an envelope, she said, "Why, here's a note from him!" was struck -by the strange, dead pallor of her face, and by the look of almost -desperate expectation in her eyes—eyes now raised, and bent greedily -on the letter in her own hand. This change of colour, this eager -look, was a complete revelation to that lady, who paused, drew in her -breath, and asked herself, with a thrill of apprehension, "Could it be -possible that Helen had lost her heart to Gilbert Lisle? Was _she_ the -attraction that had held him so fast at Port Blair?" - -As she stared in a dazed, stupid sort of way, her young friend dropped -her eyes, bent her head, and resumed her work with feverish industry; -but, in truth, her shaking fingers were pricking themselves with the -needle, instead of putting in a single stitch! - -"A note from Lisle? And pray what has he to say?" inquired Captain -Durand, ignorant of this by-play. "Here," holding out his hand, "give -it to me, and I'll read it." - - "Camorta, March 2nd. - - "DEAR MRS. DURAND,—As I have changed my plans, and am not returning - to Port Blair, I send you a line to bid you good-bye, and to beg you - to be good enough to accept my small sailing-boat which lies over at - Aberdeen. You will find her much more handy for getting about in, than - the detachment gig. My nets and fishing-gear I bequeath to Durand. I - am going on to Japan, _viâ_ rangoon and Singapore, and shall make my - way home by San Francisco. Hoping that we shall meet in England ere - long, and with kind regards to all friends at Ross, - - "I remain, - "Yours sincerely, - "GILBERT LISLE." - -"By Jove!" exclaimed Captain Durand, "that smart cutter of his is the -very thing for you, Em, and the fishing-tackle will suit me down to the -ground. I like Lisle uncommonly, but," grinning significantly as he -spoke, "this note of his, consoles me wonderfully for his departure." - -Yes, so it might—but who was to console Helen? She felt like some -drowning wretch, from whom their only plank has just been torn, or as -a shipwrecked sailor, who had painfully clambered out of reach of the -waves and been once more cruelly tossed back among them. - -It was only now at this moment of piercing anguish that she thoroughly -realized how much she had been clinging to Gilbert Lisle's promise, how -steadfastly she had believed in his words, "I shall come back." - -With a feeling of utter desolation in her heart, with her ideal and -her hopes alike shattered, what a task was hers to maintain an outward -appearance of indifference and composure! - -After a time Captain Durand went off to the mess, to hear the news, -and to look over the papers, leaving the two ladies _tête-à-tête_; his -wife affected to peruse her letters, reading such little scraps of them -aloud from time to time as she thought might amuse her companion, but -she was not enjoying them as usual. That look she had surprised in the -girl's eyes, haunted her painfully. She longed to go over to her, and -put her arm round her neck and whisper in her ear,— - -"What is it? Tell me all about it, confide in _me_." - -But somehow she dared not, bold as she was.—Recent grief had aged -Helen, and given her a gravity far beyond her years, and as she looked -across at that marble face, those downcast eyes, and busy fingers, she -found her kind, warm heart fail her. Whatever the hurt was, ay, were it -mortal, that girl meant to bear it alone. - -She was more affectionate and sympathetic to her young friend than -usual, smoothed her hot forehead, kissed her, caressed her, and whilst -they sat together in the twilight in the verandah, looking out on the -dusky sky, found courage to murmur,— - -"Dearest Helen, remember that I am your friend, not merely in name -only. Should you ever have any—any little trouble such as girls have -sometimes, you will come and share it with me, won't you? I am older, -more experienced by years and years, and I will always keep your -secrets, exactly as if they were my own!" - -This was undoubtedly a strong hint; nevertheless, her listener merely -smiled and nodded her head, but made no other sign. "_Little_ trouble!" -She was on the rack all day long. She bore the torture of her hostess's -soft whispers and tender, sympathetic looks, which told her that she -guessed _all_. She bore the brightly-lit dinner-table, and Captain -Durand's cheerful recounting of the most thrilling news. She even -endured his eloquent praises of Gilbert Lisle without flinching. Little -did her gallant host guess the effort that those smiles and answers -cost her. Good, commonplace man! he had got over his brief love affair -fifteen years previously, and had forgotten it as completely as a tale -that is told. Mrs. Durand had a more vivid recollection of her own -experiences,—and a share of that fellow-feeling that makes us all -akin. She was amazed at Helen's fortitude, especially when she glanced -back over the past and remembered (and I hope this will not be put down -to her discredit) that when _she_ had seen the announcement of the -marriage of her first fancy in the paper, she had spent the remainder -of the day in hysterics and the subsequent week in tears. She walked -back with Helen, and left her herself at Colonel Home's door, and bade -her good-night with unusual tenderness. Then she retraced her steps, -arm-in-arm with her husband, whose mind was abruptly recalled from -planning a long day's sea-fishing, by her saying rather suddenly,— - -"I know _now_ why Helen refused Dr. Parkes!" - -"Oh!" contemptuously, "I could have told you the reason long ago, if -you had asked me. Because he was the same age as her father!" - -"No, you dear, stupid man—but this is quite private. I am sure," -lowering her voice, "that she likes Gilbert Lisle." - -A long whistle was the only reply to his information for some seconds, -and then he said,— - -"Now what has put _that_ into your head?" - -"Her face when you came in and told us that he was not coming back. I -cannot get it out of my mind, it was only a momentary expression, she -rallied again at once; but that moment told me a tale that she has -hitherto guarded as a secret." - -"You are as full of fancies and ridiculous, romantic ideas as if you -were seventeen instead of——" - -"Don't name it!" she interrupted hastily, "the very leaves here have -ears!" - -Her husband laughed explosively, and presently said,— - -"I never knew such a woman as you are for jumping at conclusions. She -had a twinge of face-ache, that was all." - -"A twinge of heart-ache, you mean. But what is the use of talking to -_you_?—you are as matter-of-fact as a Monday morning. And now, pray -tell me, though I suppose I might just as well ask Billy Home, did -Gilbert Lisle ever show her any attention?" - -"Ha—hum—well, do you think that saving her life could be called an -attention?" - -"Yes," eagerly; "yes, of course! I'd forgotten about that!" - -"And another time he picked her off the mainland and brought her home -in what is now your boat, through a series of white squalls." - -"Did he really?" the really, as it were, in large capitals. - -"And he was there a few times. But you need not get any ideas into your -head about _him_, it was always Quentin, he was always hanging about -her in that heavy persistent way of his—it was Quentin, I tell you!" - -"And _I_ tell you," responded his wife emphatically, "that it was, and -is, Gilbert Lisle. I recollect his saying, the night of the ball, what -a nice girl she was; or _I_ said it, and he agreed, which is the same -thing. And I remember perfectly, now that I think of it, noticing them -leaning over a gate, and looking just like a pair of lovers." - -A loud and rudely incredulous haw-haw from Captain Durand was his only -reply. - -"You may laugh as much as you like, but Mr. Lisle told me that he would -gladly give a thousand pounds to get out of the Nicobars trip, and the -last thing he said to me, as he bade me good-bye, was, 'I shall see -you again soon.' I remember all these things now, and put two and two -together, but I cannot make it out—I am utterly puzzled. Perhaps Mr. -Quentin will be able to throw some light on the subject!" - -"Quentin wants to marry her himself." - -"Not he! He only wished to be a dog in the manger, to engross the only -pretty girl in the place, that was all. I know him _well_. And now that -she has been left an orphan, without a fraction, he has as much idea of -making her Mrs. Quentin, as he has of flying over the moon!" - -"All right, Em, time will tell.—I bet you a new bonnet that this time -next year, she will be Mrs. Q." - -"No more than she will be Queen of England," returned his wife with -emphasis. This was positively the last word, and Mrs. Durand's -property, for they had now reached the steps of their own bungalow, and -consequently the end of their journey. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIV. - -"FAREWELL, PORT BLAIR." - - "Farewell at once—for once, for all—and ever." - - _Richard II._ - - -MRS. DURAND'S surmises were correct. - -A few days after James Quentin's return, without any marked haste he -went over and called on Mrs. Home and Miss Denis. The former was an -arrant little match-maker, and was delighted to see that _débonnaire_ -face once more. He was handsome, rich (?), and agreeable, he had been -devoted to her young friend previous to his departure for the Nicobars, -and, _of course_, it would be all settled now. With this idea in her -head, she presently effaced herself so as to give the gentleman ample -opportunity for a _tête-à-tête_. She even kept Tom and Billy out of the -way, and this was no mean feat. - -Mr. Quentin murmured some polite stereotyped regrets, then he alluded -in rather strong language to "that vile hole Camorta." As he talked -he stared, stared hard at Helen, and wondered at the change he saw -in her appearance. She was haggard and thin; of her lovely colour -not a vestige remained, and the outlines of her face were sharp, and -had lost their pretty contour. She looked like a flower that had -been beaten down by the storm. Never in all his experience had he -beheld such a complete and sudden alteration in any one; he was glad -he had never thought of her seriously, and as to Lisle, he was well -out of it (thanks to his friend James Quentin); _he_ took everything -so seriously he would have been sure to have got the halter over his -head, and to have blundered into an imprudent match. His yes meant -yes; his no, no. Now he himself had a lightness of method, a nebulous -vagueness surrounded his most tender speeches; at a moment's notice, -he could slip off his chains, and run his head out of the noose, and -always without any outward unpleasantness—that was the best of the -affair. Gilbert Lisle was different, he was not used to playing with -such brittle toys as girls' hearts. Well, this girl had entirely lost -her beauty, so thought her visitor, as he contemplated her critically -and conversed of malaria and Malays. She had not a penny, and no -connections; he supposed, when she went back to England, she would -go out as a governess, or a companion, or music-teacher. He entirely -approved of young women being independent and earning their own bread. -If there was a subscription got up for her passage money, he meant to -do the handsome thing, and give fifty rupees (5_l._). - -"I suppose you were surprised to hear about Lisle?" he said at last. - -"Yes," looking at her questioner with complete composure. - -"He left me at Camorta, you know. He is a queer, eccentric beggar, and -you would never suppose, to see him in his old fishing-kit, and with -his hands as brown and horny as a common boatman's, that he had been in -the Coldstreams, and was a regular London swell." - -Helen made no reply, and he continued glibly,— - -"He is considered a tremendous catch; they say his elder brother is -dying at Algiers—consumption—but he is not easy to please!" - -"Is he not?" she echoed with studied indifference. - -"No.—By Jove! Mrs. Creery did not think much of him; she was awfully -rough on him. How all you people did snub him! Many a good laugh I had -in my sleeve!" and he smiled at the recollection. - -"I do not think that many people snubbed him," returned Helen with a -flushed cheek and flashing eye. - -"Well, perhaps _you_ did not," returned Mr. Quentin, somewhat abashed. -"You know, you never snubbed any one but me," with a mental note that -she should live to be sorry for that same. "Lisle made me promise to -keep his secret. He wished to be accepted for himself for once, without -any _arrière pensée_ of money or title; and by George, he got what he -wanted with a vengeance—eh? I don't think he will try it again in a -hurry. He found his level,—the very bottom of the ladder, something -quite new!" and again he laughed heartily at the recollection. - -"I suppose it was," with elaborate indifference. - -"He had been having a big shoot in the Terai before he came here. He -was awfully taken with this place, the queer, unconventional life, and -stayed on and on greatly to my surprise. Many a time I wondered what he -saw in the place, though, of course, I was delighted to have him. My -luck was dead in." (So it was, _vide_ Ibrahim's domestic accounts!) - -"Yes, of course it was pleasant for _you_," admitted Helen. - -"He should have been a poor man; he had so much energy and resource, -and such Spartan tastes. Ten times a day I wished that we could change -places." - -"I daresay," returned the young lady rather drily. - -There was something—was it a tone of lurking scorn?—in this "I -daresay!" that irritated her listener, who instantly resolved to -administer a rap on the knuckles in return. - -"His father is wild with him for roving about the world; he wants him -to marry and settle." - -"Yes?" - -"I believe he has an heiress in cotton-wool for him at home. I wish my -governor was as thoughtful!" - -"No doubt he knows that _you_ are quite equal to finding such a -treasure for yourself," returned Miss Denis, with a very perceptible -touch of sarcasm. - -Mr. Quentin laughed rather boisterously. It was new to him to hear -sharp speeches from ladies' lips, and now, looking at his watch and -rising with a sudden start, he said,— - -"I declare I must be going. I had no idea it was so late. I've an -appointment (imaginary) at four o'clock, and I've only two minutes. -Well," now taking her hand, "and so you are off on Wednesday? I may -see you before that, if not, good-bye," holding her fingers with a -lingering pressure, and looking down into her eyes as if he felt -unutterable regret, quite beyond the reach of words; but in truth he -was conscious of nothing, beyond a keen desire to make a happy exit, -and to get away respectably (perhaps he had also a lurking craving for -a "peg"!). "Good-bye, I hope we shall meet again some day in England. -Perhaps you would drop me a line?" a query he had often found to have -an excellent and soothing effect at similar partings. - -Helen took no notice of the suggestion, but merely bowed her head and -said very quietly,— - -"Good-bye, Mr. Quentin, good-bye." - -And then the gentleman took himself away in exaggerated haste, -muttering as he hurried down to the pier,— - -"How white she looked, and how stiff she was. I'm hanged if I don't -believe she had a weakness for Lisle, after all. If _that's_ the case, -this humble, insignificant individual has put a pretty big spoke in her -wheel." - - * * * * * - -It is almost needless to mention that Helen was now accustomed to daily -interviews with Mrs. Creery, and to being cross-examined as to how she -had been left, whether Mr. Quentin had said "anything," and what she -"was going to do with all her coloured dresses?" - -Eliza Creery was a pertinacious woman, and had not lost sight of her -designs upon the black silk gown (neither had Helen). - -"My dear," she said, "if you ask my advice," the last thing that was -likely to occur to her listener, "you will sell all your things. They -will be a perfect boon here, and it is not unusual in cases of sudden -mourning, and utter destitution, such as yours." Helen winced and grew -very pale. "I really think that you might have had this made with a -little more style," touching her black dress. "But now," seriously, -"_what_ about your others?" - -"Lizzie Caggett was asking about my cottons." - -"Yes?" stiffening with apprehension. - -"I told her that I would be only too glad to let her have them. There -are one or two that I cannot bear to look at. _He_ liked them," she -added under her breath. - -"And for how much? What did you ask for them?" - -"Why, nothing, of course!" returned Helen in amazement. - -"Then she shan't have them. I shall not stand by and see you fleeced. I -shall certainly speak to her mother. What a horrible, grasping, greedy -girl; taking advantage of your innocence—she would not get round _me_ -like that!" (Mrs. Creery never spoke a truer word). - -"But they are useless, quite useless to me," exclaimed Helen. - -"Rubbish! nonsense! is _money_ useless to any one? Did you give her -anything else?" demanded the matron sharply. - -"Only my best hat, and a few new pairs of _gants de Suède_." - -"This must be stopped _at once_. She has no conscience, no principle. -You will be giving her your white silk next, you foolish girl. You -must think of yourself, you have hardly a penny to live on, and are as -lavish as a princess, and utterly indifferent to your own interests. -Now, if you had spoken to _me_, I could have disposed of your cottons -and muslins for ready money. As it is, I shall take your black silk, -your white silk, your blue surah," running over these items with -infinite unction, "and give you a good price for them, considering that -they are second-hand. Your white satin low body would be too small, I'm -afraid; and your gloves are not my size (Mrs. Creery took sevens, and -Helen sixes); but I'll have your pinafore and brown hat." - -"But indeed, thanking you very much for thinking of me, I do not wish -to sell anything. Some day I may want these things, and have no money -to replace them, don't you see?" - -Mrs. Creery failed to see the matter in that light at all, and argued -and stormed; nevertheless, Helen was adamant. - -"Aunt Julia would not be pleased, I'm sure," she said firmly. "And I -really could not do it, really I would not, Mrs. Creery." - -"And I had such a fancy for your little black lace and jet -shoulder-cape!" whimpered that lady, on the verge of tears. - -Helen paused, looked at her hesitatingly, and said,— - -"I wonder if you would be very much offended if—if I——" here she -broke down. - -But Mrs. Creery knew exactly what she wished to say, and rushed to her -rescue. - -"Yes, that's it exactly," she cried eagerly, "a _capital_ idea, we will -exchange! I'll take your cape, which would be brown next year, and -give you something you will like far better, something that won't wear -out, and will serve to remind you of the six months you spent at Port -Blair." (As if Helen needed anything to remind her of that.) "Something -that, I'm sure, you will be delighted to have." - -On these conditions the barter was agreed to, and the elder lady folded -up and carried away the cape. Doubtless she feared that Miss Denis -might yet change her mind. - -The same afternoon Mrs. Creery's ayah sauntered down with a small -paper parcel in her hand, and when it was opened, Helen discovered an -exceedingly trumpery pair of shell bracelets, tied with grass-green -ribbon—total value of these ornaments, one Government rupee, in other -words, eighteen-pence! - -Mrs. Home, who had heard of the fate of the little shoulder-cape, -became quite red with indignation, and was loud (for her) in her -denunciation of Mrs. Creery's meanness. But Helen was no party to her -anger and scorn, nay, for the first time for many weeks, she laughed -as merrily and as heartily as she had been wont to do in the days that -were no more. - - * * * * * - -The eventful Wednesday came that brought the English letters, and took -away Mrs. Home and Helen. The whole community rowed out to the _Scotia_ -to see them off, laden with books and flowers, and eau de Cologne and -fruit. When I say the whole community, Mr. Quentin was the exception -that proved the rule. Jim Quentin was conspicuous by his absence, -and neither note nor bouquet arrived as his deputy. Mrs. Home was -keenly alive to his defection and extremely put out, though her anger -smouldered as fire within her, and she never breathed a word to Helen, -and thought that she had never seen a girl bear a disappointment so -beautifully. - -There was maiden dignity! There was fortitude! There was self-control! -Mrs. Durand hung about her friend with little gifts and stolen -caresses,—she had not failed to notice that Apollo was not among the -crowd, and had whispered to her husband as they stood together, "_He_ -is not here, you see, and the bonnet is _mine_." - -To Helen she said,— - -"Mind you write to me often; be sure you do not drift away from me, my -dear. When I go home, you have promised to come and see me, and, you -know, you would be going to my people now only they are in Italy at -present. Be sure you don't forget me, Helen." - -"Is it likely?" she returned. "Have I so many friends? Do not be afraid -that I shall not write to you often, perhaps too often. I shall look -out for your letters far more anxiously than you will for mine, and is -it likely that I can ever forget you? You know I never could." - -Mrs. Creery was present of course, and when time was up, and the bell -rang for visitors to descend to their boats, she actually secured the -last embrace, saying as she kissed Helen on either cheek,— - -"So sorry you are going, dear. Of course you will write? I have your -address—15, Upper Cream Street. It has all been very sad for you, but -life is uncertain;" then—as a _bonne bouche_ reserved for the last, a -kind of stimulant for the voyage—she added impressively, "My sister, -Lady Grubb, will call on you in London—and now, really, good-bye." One -more final whisper yet in her ear, positively the last word, "Quentin -has treated you disgracefully." - -A pressure of the hand and she was gone. - -The steamer's paddles began to churn, to grind the water, the boats -rowed on alongside, their occupants waving handkerchiefs, till the -_Scotia_ gradually forged ahead and left them all behind. - -Helen leant over the bulwarks, watching them and waving to the last. -How much she liked them all, how good they had been to her! As they -gradually fell far behind, even the final view of Mrs. Creery's broad -back and mushroom topee caused her a pang of unexpected regret. - -The surrounding hills, woods, and water looked lovelier than she had -ever seen them, as if they were saying, "How can you bid us good-bye? -Why do you leave us?" - -She gazed with straining vision towards the graveyard on the hill, -now fading so fast from eyes that would never see it more. Presently -Mount Harriet became sensibly diminished, then Ross itself dwindled -to a mere shadowy speck; Helen stood alone at the taffrail, taking an -eternal farewell of these sunny islands, which had once been to her -as an earthly paradise, where the happiest hours of her life had been -spent, and the darkest—where she had first made acquaintance with -love and death and grief! The little-known Andamans were gradually -fading—fading—fading. As she stood with her eyes earnestly fixed upon -the last faint blue outline, they were gone, merged in the horizon, and -lost to sight. She would never more behold them, save in her dreams! - -With this thought painfully before her mind she turned slowly away, -and went below to her own cabin, and shutting fast the door, she threw -herself down on her berth and wept bitterly. - - - - -CHAPTER XXV. - -THE STEERAGE PASSENGER. - - "Pray you sit by us, and tell's a tale." - - _Twelfth Night._ - - -"MRS. HOME and party" were to be seen in the list of names of those -who sailed from Calcutta in the steamer _Palestine_ on the 20th of -March. There were not many other passengers, but those on board were -sociable and friendly; and the old days, when Bengal and Madras did not -speak, paraded different sides of the deck, and only met in the saloon -at the point of the knife (and fork), are gone to return no more. The -weather was at first exceedingly rough, the water "plenty jumping," in -the phraseology of Mrs. Home's ayah. She, like her mistress, became -a captive to Neptune almost as soon as the engines were in motion. -Once out on the open sea she lay for days on the floor, rolled up -in her sarée like a bolster or a mummy, uttering pitiful moans and -invocations to her relations. Helen was a capital sailor and took -entire charge of Tom and Billy, and was invaluable to her sick friend, -upon whom she waited with devoted attention, tempting her with beef-tea -and toast and other warranted sea-refreshments. - -Not a few of her fellow-passengers would have been pleased to while -away the empty hours, in dalliance with the tall girl in black, but -she showed no desire for society, and as it was whispered that she had -recently lost some near relation, and was _really_ in deep grief, she -was left to herself, and to the company of Tom and Billy.—It seemed -quite marvellous to the community, that such a pretty girl should be -returning to England _unmarried_. They shrugged their shoulders, lifted -their eyebrows, and wondered to one another whether it was because -_she_ was too hard to please, or whether the community at Port Blair -were stolid semi-savages? - -The first little piece of excitement that broke the monotony of the -voyage, was the discovery of a stowaway in one of the boats, who was -not starved out till they had passed Galle. He proved to be a deserter -from a regiment in Calcutta, and was promptly sent below to stoke, -as extra fireman, and doubtless he found that employment (especially -in the Red Sea) even less to his taste than drilling in the cool of -the morning on the Midan near Fort William. The Red Sea was as calm -as the proverbial mill-pond, and the motion of the steamer almost -imperceptible. The ayah recovered from her state of torpor, and Mrs. -Home actually made her appearance at meals, and joined the social -circle on deck. Every evening there was singing, the songs being -chiefly contributed by the ladies and one or two German gentlemen -_en route_ from Burmah to the Fatherland. Passengers who could not, -or would not, perform vocally, were called upon to tell stories, and -those hot April nights, as they throbbed past the dark Arabian coast, -were long remembered by many on board. Chief among the entertainers -was the captain of the _Palestine_. He related more than one yarn of -thrilling adventures by sea. The German merchants told weird legends, -and episodes of the late great war, a grizzled colonel gave his -experiences of the Mutiny, a subaltern his first exploit out after -tigers, but the most popular _raconteur_ of them all was the first -officer, Mr. Waters. When he appeared, and took his seat among the -company after tea, there was an immediate and clamorous call for a -story—a story. - -"Now, Mr. Waters, we have been waiting for you!" - -Apropos of the stowaway, he recounted the following tale, to which -Billy Home, who was seated on Helen's knee, with his arm encircling her -neck, listened with very mixed sensations:— - -"When I was second officer of the _Black Swan_, from Melbourne to -London," he began promptly—yes, he liked telling yarns,—"we had one -uncommonly queer trip, a trip that I shall not forget in a hurry, no, -and I don't fancy that many of those who were on board will forget it -either! It was the year of the Paris Exhibition, and all the world -and his wife were crowding home. We had every berth full, and people -doubled up anywhere, even sleeping on the floor of the saloon. We left -port with three hundred cabin, and seventy-five steerage passengers. At -first the weather was as if it were made to order, and all went well -till about the third night out, when the disturbance began, at least, -it began, as far as _I_ was concerned. I was knocked up about an hour -after I had come off watch, and out of my first sleep, by some one -thundering at my door. I, thinking it was a mistake, swore a bit, and -roared out that they were to go to the third officer, and the devil! -But, instead of this, the door was gently opened, and the purser put in -a very long white face, and said,— - -"'Look here, Waters, I want you in my cabin; there is the mischief to -pay, and I can't make it out! I can't get a wink of sleep, for the most -awful groans you ever heard!' - -"I sat up and looked at him hard. He was always a sober man, he was -sober now, and he was not walking in his sleep. After a moment's very -natural hesitation, I threw on some clothes, and followed him to his -cabin, which was forward. The light was still burning, and his bunk -turned back just as he had leapt out of it; but there was nothing to be -seen. - -"'Wait a bit,' he said eagerly, 'hold on a minute and listen.' - -"I did, I waited, and listened with all my ears, and I heard nothing -but the thumping of the engines, and the tramping of the officer on -watch overhead. I was about to turn on my heel with rather an angry -remark, when he arrested me with a livid face, and said,— - -"'There it is!' and sure enough there it _was_—a low, deep, hollow -groan, and no mistake about it, a groan as if wrung from some one in -mortal agony, some one suffering lingering and excruciating torture.—I -looked at the purser, big beads of perspiration were standing on his -forehead, and he looked hard at me. 'I heard it all last night,' he -said in a husky whisper, 'but I was afraid to speak. I hunted to-day -high and low, and sounded every hole and corner, but there is nothing -to be found!' Then he ceased speaking, there it was _again_, louder, -more painful than ever; it certainly came from some place below the -floor, and on the starboard side. We both knelt down, and hammered, and -knocked, and called, and laid our ears to the boards, but it was of no -use,—there was silence. - -"'Perhaps it was some one snoring,' I suggested, 'or it might be a dog?' - -"'No,' returned the purser, who was still on his knees, 'it's a human -voice, and the groans of a dying man, as sure as I'm a live one!' - -"I remained in the cabin for half an hour, and though we overhauled the -whole concern, we heard nothing more, so I fetched up for my own bunk, -and turned in and went to sleep. - -"The next day the purser said he heard the moans very faintly, as -if they were now getting weaker and weaker, and after this entirely -ceased. For a good spell everything went along without a hitch, we -had A 1 weather, and made first-class runs. But one evening, in the -twilight, I noticed a great commotion in the saloon, I heard high -talking—a woman's voice! One of the lady passengers was the centre of -a crowd, and was making some angry complaint to the captain. - -"'It's the young man in the boots again!' she said. 'And it's really -too bad. Why is he allowed in this part of the ship, what are the -stewards about? It is insufferable to be persecuted in this manner! -Every evening, at this hour, he comes to the door of the saloon and -beckons to _me_, or to any one who is near, but he never seems to catch -any one's eyes but _mine_! It's really disgraceful that the steerage -passengers should be allowed among us in this way.' - -"The saloon stewards were all called up and rigidly cross-examined by -the captain, but they all most positively declared that no stranger had -been seen by them, nor was there any steerage passenger on board that -at all answered the lady's description. - -"'Of course, that's nonsense!' she exclaimed indignantly. 'He comes to -the bar for spirits on the sly—and very sly he is—for I've gone to -the door to see what he wanted, and he has always contrived to slip -away.' - -"An extra sharp lookout was accordingly kept by the captain's orders, -but the head steward privately informed me with a grin 'that there was -no such person as a tall young man in a blue jumper, with long boots, -on the ship's books,' and we both came to the conclusion that the lady -was decidedly wanting in her top gear. - -"However, after a while other people began to see the steerage -passenger. Not merely ladies only, but hard-headed, practical, elderly -men; and very disagreeable whispers began to get afloat that 'the ship -was haunted!' The apparition in long butcher boots, could never be -caught or traced, but he was visible repeatedly; and did not merely -confine himself to hanging about and beckoning at the saloon door—he -was now to be met in passages, at the dark turns on the stairs behind -the wheel-house, and even on the bridge,—but always after dusk. Things -now began to be extremely unpleasant, discipline was scorned, at the -very _idea_ of taking away the lights at eleven o'clock, there was -uproar, and an open mutiny among the ladies. Passengers were completely -unmanageable, the women going about in gangs, and the very crew in -couples. The captain endeavoured to make a bold stand against the -ghost, but he was silenced by a clamour of voices, and by a cloud of -witnesses who had all _seen_ it, and, to make matters better, we came -in for the most awful weather I ever experienced, our hatches were -stove in, our decks swept, and I never was more thankful in all my life -than when we took up our pilot in the Downs. What between the ghost and -the gales, even our most seasoned salts were shaky, and grumbled among -themselves, that one would almost imagine that we had a dead body on -board! However, we managed to dock without any misadventure, beyond -being five days over our time, having lost three boats, and gained the -agreeable reputation of being a haunted ship! When we were getting -out the cargo, and having the usual overhaul below, I happened to be -on duty one day when I was accosted by the boatswain, who came aft to -where I was standing, with an uncommonly grave face. 'Please, sir,' -said he, 'we've found something we did not bargain for; it was in the -place where the anchor-chain is, and now, the chain being all paid out, -it's empty, you see—' he paused a moment,—'all but for a dead man.' - -"Of course I hurried forward at once, and looked down into a dark -hole, when, by the light of a bit of candle held by one of the crew, I -saw, sure enough, crushed up against one side the skeleton of a man—a -skeleton, for the rats had picked his bones clean; his coat still hung -on him, he wore long digger's boots, and a digger's hat covered his -bare skull. - -"I started back, and fell foul of the candle, though I'm not a -particularly nervous person, for I now remembered the groans I had -heard in the purser's cabin. - -"'You see, sir, how it was," said the boatswain, 'he was a stowaway, -in course. When we were in dock, this place was empty. Cause why? The -anchor-chain is out, and it seemed to this poor ignorant wretch, who -was no seaman anyway, to be just the very spot—as it were, made for -him! I've a kind of recollection of him, too, hanging about when we -were taking in cargo. He was young, and looked like a half-starved, -broken-down gentleman, such as you see every day in the colony, who -come out—bless their innocence!—a-thinking the nuggets is growing -on the trees, and sink down to beggary, or to working their way home -before the mast. Ay, he thought to get a cast back,' said the bo'sun, -'and he just walked straight into the jaws of death. The moment we -began to weigh anchor, and the chain came reeling, and reeling, into -his hiding-place, it had no outlet but the hole at the top, and the -rattle of it and the noise of the donkey-engine drowned his cries: he -was just walled in, poor chap, and buried up alive!' - -"Of course, we all knew, that this was the mysterious apparition in -long boots, who had created such an unparalleled disturbance on the -passage home. Presently the remains were decently carried away, and -there was an inquest, but nothing could be discovered about the body. -We subscribed for the funeral among us, and he was buried in the -nearest church-yard. We sailors are a superstitious lot, and though we -got out of it (I mean, bringing home a corpse) better than could be -expected, so we gave him a respectable funeral; but there is no name on -the stone cross above his head, for the only one, we knew him by, was -that of the 'Steerage Passenger!'" - - * * * * * - -The chief officer brought his story to an end in the midst of a dead, -nay, an awe-struck silence. People shuddered and looked nervously -behind them. They were on board ship, too! Why should not the -_Palestine_ have a ghost of her own, as well as the _Black Swan_? - -The utter stillness, was suddenly broken by a loud howl from Billy -Home, who had been listening with all the power of his unusually -capacious ears, and seemed to have but just wakened up from a sort of -trance of horror. He shrieked and clung to Helen, who had whispered a -hint with regard to bed-time. - -"No, no, no," he would not come. "No, not alone," he added with a yell, -hanging to her with the tenacity of a limpet; "not unless you stay with -me.—I'm afraid of the man downstairs,—I _know_ he is downstairs." - -"I declare," said the bearded story-teller, "I quite forgot that little -beggar was there. I never noticed him till now, or I would not have -told you that yarn." - -Needless to remark, his apology came rather too late. At every turn -of the companion-ladder, at every open door, Billy lived in whining -anticipation of meeting what he called "the man in the boots," and for -the remainder of the voyage he was figuratively a mill-stone, round -Helen's neck. - -They had an uneventful passage down the Mediterranean, halting at -Malta for lace, oranges, and canaries; they passed Cape Bon, then the -coast of Spain, and the snow-capped Sierra Nevada. The Home boys had -never beheld snow till now, and were easily induced to believe, that -what they beheld was pounded sugar, and languished at the mountains -with greedy eyes, as long as they remained in sight. On a certain -Sunday afternoon in April the _Palestine_ arrived in the Victoria -Docks, London. Numerous expectant friends came swarming on board, all -eagerness and expectation, but there was no one to welcome Helen,—no -face among that friendly crowd was seeking hers. Being a Sunday, there -was, of course, some difficulty about cabs and trains, and the docks -were very remote from the fashionable quarter where her aunt Julia -resided: so she swallowed her disappointment and made excuses to -herself. However, Mrs. Home, who had been met by her brother, insisted -upon personally conducting her to her journey's end. First they went -by rail above ground, then by rail under ground, finally by cab, and -after a long drive, the travellers drew up at Mrs. Platt's rather -pinched-looking mansion in Upper Cream Street. A man-servant answered -the bell, flung wide the door with a jerk, and stood upon the threshold -in dignified amazement on beholding _two_ cabs, heavily laden with -baggage. - -Was Mrs. Platt at home? - -"No, ma'am. She and the young ladies have gone to afternoon church; but -Miss Denis is _expected_." - -Rather a tepid reception, Mrs. Home thought, with a secret thrill of -indignation. Much, much, she wished that she could have taken Helen -with her there and then. She hugged her vigorously, as did also Tom -and Billy; and telling her, that she would come and see her very soon, -she re-entered her cab, and with her brother, children, and luggage, -was presently rattled away. Helen felt as she stood on the steps, and -watched those familiar trunks, turning a corner,—that her last link -with the Andamans, and all her recent life, was now broken. - - - - -CHAPTER XXVI. - -A POOR RELATION. - - "Oh, she is rich in beauty, only poor!" - - _Romeo and Juliet._ - - -"YOU had better have your big box kept in the back hall—it will -scarcely be worth while to take it upstairs, and it might only rub the -paper off the wall." - -This was almost the first greeting that Helen received from her aunt -Julia. - -"And, dear me, how thin you have grown! I would have passed you in the -street," was her eldest cousin's welcome. - -Mrs. Platt and her two daughters, Clara and Caroline, had returned -from church, and found their expected guest awaiting them alone, in -the drawing-room! "Surely one of them might have stayed at home," she -said to herself with a lump in her throat and a mist before her eyes. -She had latterly been made so much of at Port Blair that her present -reception was indeed a bitter contrast. It undoubtedly _is_ rather -chilling to arrive punctually from a long journey (say, half across -the world), and to find that your visit is a matter of such little -moment to your relations, that they have not even thought it necessary -to remain indoors to await, much less to send to meet you! Helen felt -strangely neglected and depressed, as she sat in the drawing-room in -solitary state, still wearing her hat and jacket, and feeling more like -a dependant, who had come to seek for a situation, than a near relation -to the lady of the house. She had fully an hour in which to contemplate -the situation, ere her aunt and cousins returned. They were three very -tall women, and made an imposing appearance, as they filed in one after -another in their best bonnets, with their prayer-books in their hands. -They kissed her coolly, inquired when, and how, she had arrived, and -then sat down and looked at her attentively. - -Mrs. Platt was a thin, fair lady, with handsome profile, who had -married well; and contrived to keep herself aloof from the general -wreckage, when her maiden home was broken up; ambition was her -distinctive characteristic; she had married well, and got up in the -world, and now she hoped to see her daughters do the same. - -To effect a lodgment in an upper strata of society, to mix with what -she called the "best people," was her idea of unalloyed happiness. - -In her grander, loftier style she was every bit as fond of a title as -our dear friend Mrs. Creery. - -Besides all this she was a respectable British matron, who paid her -bills weekly, went twice to church on Sunday, never darkened the door -of an omnibus, or condescended to use a postcard. Still, in her own -genteel fashion, she was a capital manager, and generally made eighteen -pence contrive to do duty for two shillings. She was honest, scheming, -hard to every one, even to herself, making all those with whom she came -into contact useful to her in some way; either they were utilized as -social stepping-stones, or givers of entertainment, concert, and opera -tickets, flowers, or better still, invitations to country houses; all -her friends were expected to put their shoulder to her wheel in some -respect—either that,—or she dropped their acquaintance under these -circumstances. - -It will be easily imagined, how very unwelcome to such a lady as Mrs. -Platt was the unlooked-for return of this handsome, penniless niece! - -The Misses Platt were tall young women, of from six, to eight and -twenty years of age; they had unusually long necks, and carried their -noses in the air; they were slight, and had light eyes and eyebrows, -which gave them an indefinite, unfinished appearance; their hair was of -a dull ashen shade, and they wore large fluffy fringes, were considered -"plain" by people who did not like them, and "elegant-looking girls" by -those who were their friends. - -They were unemotional, critical, and selfish, firmly resolved to get -the best of whatever was going; for the Miss Platts influenced their -mother as they pleased, and had the greatest repugnance to having their -cousin Helen thus billeted upon them. - -They called everything, and every person, that did not meet with their -approval "bad style," and worshipped coronets, as devoutly as their -parent herself. - -By-and-by the new arrival had some tea, was assured that she would be -"all the better for a night's rest," and was escorted to the very top -of the house, by an exhausted cousin, to what her aunt called "her -old room." This was true,—it was not the guest-chamber, but a very -sparsely-furnished apartment, on the same floor with the maids. And -here her relative deposited her candlestick, nodded a condescending -good-night, and left her to her repose. This was her home-coming! -However, she was very tired, and soon fell asleep, and forgot her -sorrows; but very early the next morning, she was awoke by the roar of -the London streets, for you could call it nothing else. Mrs. Platt, -though occupying a most fashionable and expensive nutshell, was close -to one of the great arteries of traffic. Helen lay and listened. What -a contrast to the last place where she had slept on shore, where the -bugle awoke the echoes at five o'clock in the morning, where wheels and -horses were absolutely unknown, and the stillness was almost solemn, -only broken by the dip of an oar or the scream of a peacock! She turned -her eyes to a picture pinned to the wall, facing the foot of her bed, -the picture of a merry-looking milkmaid, with a pail under her arm; the -milkmaid was smiling at her now, precisely as she had done less than a -year ago,—when she had slept in that very room previous to starting -for Port Blair. _Then_ she had seemed to her imagination, to wish her -good speed. Surely that gay expression seemed to augur the future -smiles of fortune! Ten months ago she had stared at that picture, ere -she had set out for her voyage, full of hope and happy anticipations; -and now, ere the year had gone round, she was back again, her day was -over, her happy home in those sunny islands among tropical seas, had -vanished like a dream! She had visited, as it were, an enchanted land, -where she had found father, home, friends—ay, and lover, and had -returned desolate and empty-handed (save for that "sorrow's crown of -sorrow"), to face the stern realities of life,—and to earn her daily -bread. She gazed at the mocking milkmaid, and closed her eyes. Oh! if -she could but wake and find that the last four months had been but a -horrible dream. - -The Platts were late people, they scorned the typical first worm. -Helen, accustomed to early (Eastern) hours, had a very long morning, -entirely alone. She dared not unpack, she had no work to do, and could -find no books to read; for her aunt, who was most economical in regard -to things that did not make a show, did not subscribe to a library, -merely took in a daily paper, and preyed, on her friends, for her other -literature. - -Breakfast was at eleven o'clock, and during that meal letters were -read, the daily programme arranged, and people and places discussed, -whose names were totally unknown to Helen. Now and then, her cousins -threw her a word or two, but there was no cordiality or friendship in -their tone; it did not need that, to tell her she was not welcome, and -she sat aloof in silence, feeling as if she were an utter alien, and -as if her very heart was frozen. And yet these were her own flesh and -blood—her father's sister and nieces—her nearest, if not her dearest! -How different to Mrs. Home, Mrs. Graham, and Mrs. Durand!—ay, even -Mrs. Creery had shown her more affection than her own aunt. - -Helen soon fell into her proper niche in the family. After breakfast -she went out and did all the little household messages to the -tradespeople, and made herself useful, _i.e._, mended her aunt's -gloves, and hose, wrote her notes, and copied music for her cousins. - -She dined early, when her relatives lunched, as they frequently had -people in the evening. - -There was a kind of back room or den upon the second landing, where -the Platt family sat in _déshabillé_, partook of refreshments, wrote -letters, ripped old dresses, and held family conclaves. Here Helen -spent most of her time, and being very clever with her needle, did -many "odd jobs" for her relatives. Better this, than sitting with -idle hands, staring out on a back green the size of a table-cloth, -surrounded by grimy walls, with no more interesting spectacle to -enliven the scene, than the duels, or duets, of the neighbouring -cats. So it was, "Helen, I want you to run up this," or "to tack -that together," or "just to unpick the other thing," and she became -a valuable auxiliary to Plunket the lady's-maid, not merely with her -needle alone,—she soon learned to be very handy with a box-iron! - -Of course she was never expected to accompany the family, when they -went out in the brougham, her aunt saying to her in her suavest tone, -"You see, dear, your mourning is so recent" (her father was five months -dead), "I am sure you would rather stay at home." Accordingly the three -ladies packed themselves into the carriage most afternoons, and went -for an airing, leaving their poor relation, with strict injunctions to -"keep up the drawing-room fire," and "to see that tea was ready to the -moment of five." Sometimes they gave "at homes," the preparations for -which were left to Helen, who worked like a slavey. These "at homes" -were chiefly remarkable for a profusion of flowers, weak tea, weaker -music, and a crush. - -Next to the cook, Helen was decidedly the most useful member of the -household, she was kept fully occupied all day long, and in constant -employment, was her only escape from her own thoughts. She was not -happy; nay, many a night she cried herself to sleep; her aunt was -cool and distant, as though she had displeased her in some way; but -to Helen's knowledge, she had given her no cause of offence since the -terrible incident of the tea-cup, years and years previously. - -Her cousins were sharp, critical, and patronizing, and evidently -considered that she occupied a very much lower social status than -themselves. - -She was unwelcome, an interloper, and felt it keenly. More than once -she tried to screw up her courage, and ask her aunt what was to be -her future. Undoubtedly, she was not to remain on permanently as an -inmate of No. 15, Cream Street.—Her big box still stood in the back -hall. Somehow, she rarely had a chance of a few words with her aunt -alone, her affairs were never once touched upon in her hearing, and -yet she had reason to believe, that certain animated and rather shrill -conversations, that she frequently interrupted,—and that fell away -into an awkward silence as she entered a room,—were about her, and her -future destination! - - * * * * * - -Visitors came rapping at No. 15, Cream Street every afternoon, and two, -out of the dozens who had called, asked for "Miss Denis." A few days -after her arrival, she had been in the drawing-room with her cousins -Carrie and Clara, when her first caller made her appearance. - -The drawing-room was an apartment that seemed to be all mirrors, low -chairs, small tables, and plush photo frames—a pretty room, entirely -got up for show, not use. Several of the chairs, were not to be -trusted, and one or two tables were decidedly dangerous, but the _tout -ensemble_ through coloured blinds, was everything that was smart and -fashionable, and "good style"—the fetish the Miss Platts worshipped. - -On this particular afternoon Carrie was yawning over the fire, Clara -was looking out of the window, commenting on a coroneted carriage and -superb pair of steppers, with what is called extravagant action, which -had just stopped opposite. Mentally she was thinking, how much she -would like to see this equipage in waiting at their own door, when a -very curious turn-out came lumbering along, and actually drew up at -No. 15. A shapeless, weather-beaten, yellow brougham, drawn by a fat -plough-horse, and driven by a coachman in keeping with his steed—a man -with a long beard, a rusty hat (that an Andamanese would have scorned), -and a horse-sheet round his knees. - -Little did Helen Denis dream that she was gazing at that oft-vaunted -vehicle—Lady Grubb's carriage. - -"Good gracious, Carrie, who on earth is this?" cried Clara, turning to -her sister, who was now staring exhaustingly at her own reflection in -the chimney-glass. "And coming to call here! Oh, for mercy's sake, do -come and look!" - -The door of the brougham was slowly opened, and a very stout old lady, -attired in a long black satin cloak, and gorgeous bonnet with nodding -plumes, descended, and waddled up the steps. - -In the vacant carriage there still remained two fat pugs, a worked -cushion, a pile of books, and what certainly looked like a basket of -vegetables! - -"It's no one _we_ know," said Clara contemptuously. - -"It may be a friend of Plunket's, or a mistake." - -Apparently it was neither, for at this moment the door was flung open, -and,— - -"Lady Grubb!" was announced. - -Very eagerly she advanced to Clara, with round, smiling face, and -outstretched hands, saying,— - -"So glad to find you at home! My sister told me to be sure and call, -and as I was at the stores,"—here she paused and faltered, literally -cowed by the expression of Miss Platt's eyes—Miss Platt, who drew -back, elongated her neck, and looked insolent interrogation. - -"I think you have been so good as to come and see me," murmured Helen, -hastily advancing to the rescue. "You are Mrs. Creery's sister?" - -"Yes, and of course you are Miss Denis," seizing her outstretched hand -as if it were a life-belt, for poor Lady Grubb was completely thrown -off her balance, by the stern demeanour of the other damsel. - -Helen led her to a sofa, and tried to engage her in friendly -conversation, but it was not easy to converse, with her two cousins -sitting rigidly by, as if they were on a board of examination, and not -suffering a word or look to escape them. They sat and gazed at Lady -Grubb in quite a combined and systematic manner; to them she was such a -unique object, and such utterly "awful style." - -She, like her sister, was endowed with a copious flow of language, -but the very fountain of her speech was frozen by these two ice -maidens. The first few words she did manage to utter, were hurried and -incoherent, but presently she found courage to inquire after Maria, and -Nip, and Creery (horrible to relate, she called him "Creery"), and also -after many people, she had heard about at Port Blair. - -It was very plain to Helen, that Maria had painted her island home, -with an unsparing supply of gorgeous colours, and Lady Grubb looked -upon her absent relative's position, as something between that of -the Queen of Sheba, and the Princess Badoura without doubt. She then -murmured a few words of really kind condolence to Helen, and if she had -taken her departure at this point, all would have been well; but she -was now becoming habituated to the stony stare of the Misses Platt, and -felt more emboldened to converse,—and some malicious elf put it into -her head to say, with a meaning smile,— - -"I am quite up in all the Port Blair news and Port Blair secrets, you -know. I've heard a great deal about a certain gentleman." - -Helen became what is known as "all colours," and her two cousins "all -ears;" to them she had positively denied that she had left the ghost of -an admirer to lament her departure from the Andaman Islands. - -"Oh, you know who I _mean_, I can see," continued the old lady -playfully. "She had any number of offers," addressing herself rather -triumphantly to the Miss Platts, "but Mr. Quentin is to be the happy -man," and here the wretched old woman, actually winked at Clara and -Caroline. - -"Indeed, indeed, Lady Grubb, you are quite mistaken!" cried Helen -hastily. "Mr. Quentin is nothing to me but a mere acquaintance, and as -to anything else, Mrs. Creery—was—was joking!" - -"Oh, well, well, we won't say a word about it now, but you must come -and spend a long day with me soon and tell me _everything_! I feel as -if I know you quite well, having heard of you so often from Maria. I'll -just leave my card for your aunt, and now I must really be going," -standing up as she spoke. "I suppose Scully is waiting" (presumably the -uncouth coachman). - -The Miss Platts did not ring the bell, neither did they deign to rise -from their chairs, but merely closed their eyes at their visitor, as -she made a kind of "shy," intended for a curtsey, and wishing them -"good afternoon," departed with considerable precipitation. - -Helen went downstairs, and conducted Lady Grubb to the hall-door, and -presently saw her bowled away in her yellow chariot, with a brace of -pugs in her lap. - -She was not a very distinguished person certainly, but she meant to be -friendly, to be kind, and a little of these commodities went a long way -with her now. She blushed, when she recalled her cousins' deportment. -Surely an Andamanese female, in her own premises (were they hole or -tree), would have shown more civility to a stranger. As she entered the -drawing-room, the Miss Platts exclaimed in one breath,— - -"What a creature! Who is she?" - -"She looks like an old cook!" supplemented Carrie. "I was _trembling_ -lest any of our friends should come in." - -"Her name is Grubb, she is sister to Mrs. Creery, the—" (how could she -give any approximate idea of that lady's pomp?) "the principal lady at -the Andamans!" she added rather faintly. - -"Principal lady! What rubbish!" cried Clara. "If she resembles her -distinguished sister, I make you my compliments, as the French say, on -the class of society you enjoyed out there." - -"Let us see where she lives. Where's her card? What is her -name?—Tubb—Grubb?" said Carrie. "Here it is," taking it up between -two supercilious fingers, and reading,— - - =Lady Grubb=, - _Smithson Villas, Pimlico_. - -"Pimlico! _So_ i should have imagined," for, of course, any one who -lived in that region was in the Miss Platts' opinion socially extinct. - -"You certainly cannot do yourself the pleasure of spending a long and -happy day at Smithson Villas," said Carrie with decision. "Goodness -knows whom you might meet; and she would be bragging to her cronies -that you were _our_ cousin." - -"I shall go if she asks me," replied Helen quietly. "It is no matter -who _I_ meet, and I will guarantee that your name does not transpire." - -Was the girl trying to be sarcastic? Carrie looked at her sharply, but -Helen's face was immovable. - -"Well, I do most devoutly trust that she will not see fit to wait upon -you again, or that if she does she will come in the laundry-cart!" - -"I wonder what the Courtney-Howards thought of her. I'm sure I saw -Evelyn at the window," remarked Clara. "Oh!" she added with great -animation, "here is the Jenkins' carriage—Flo and her mother. What a -mercy that they did not come five minutes ago!" - -Now ensued general arranging of hair, of chairs, and of blinds; -evidently the Jenkins were people worth cultivating, and indisputably -of "good style." - -"Fly away, Helen, at once," cried Carrie, "and tell Price to bring up -tea in about ten minutes; and if there is time, you might just run -round the corner and get half-a-dozen of those nice little Scotch -cakes. I know Price hates being sent on messages in the afternoon, and -you don't mind." - - - - -CHAPTER XXVII. - -IN WHICH EVERYTHING IS SETTLED TO MRS. PLATT'S SATISFACTION. - - "When true hearts lie withered, - And fond ones are flown, - Oh! who would inhabit - This bleak world alone?" - - _Moore._ - - -LADY GRUBB'S visit was succeeded by one from Mrs. Home—a kind, -well-meaning little lady, as we know, but as yet attired in what had -been a very nice Dirzee-made garment at Port Blair, and even passed -muster for best on board ship, but which stamped her at once in the -eyes of the Miss Platts as "bad style." - -Her boys, too, so eager was she to see Helen, were not yet equipped in -their new suits, and were anomalous spectacles in Highland kilts and -sailor hats. - -Clara and Carrie did not condescend to appear on this occasion, they -saw amply sufficient of Mrs. Home and family over the dining-room blind. - -Helen felt a sense of burning humiliation and shame to think that now, -when she was at home among her own people, they would not even take the -trouble to come upstairs and thank Mrs. Home for her great kindness to -her, nor even so much as send her a cup of tea. She hoped in her heart -that her friend would think they were _out_! But they went audibly up -and down stairs and laughed and shut doors, and Mrs. Home was neither -deaf nor stupid. - -She stayed an hour, and Helen enjoyed her visit greatly (despite her -disappointment at the non-appearance of her relations or, failing them, -the tea-tray). It was one little oasis in the desert of her now dreary -life; they conversed eagerly together and talked the shibboleth of -people who have the same friends, in the same country; they kissed and -cried a little, and parted with mutual promises of many letters, for -Mrs. Home was going to Jersey, and thence to the Continent. - -"Your friends are not our friends, and our friends are not your -friends," said Carrie forcibly, and Helen felt that indeed, as far as -appearance went, her visitors had not been a success, and for her own -part never dreamt of being admitted within the sacred circle of her -cousins' acquaintance. - -Now and then she met people accidentally in the hall, or in the street -when walking with her cousins; and once she overheard Carrie saying to -Clara, apropos of visitors,— - -"Of course there is no occasion to introduce Helen to any one," and -this amiable injunction was obeyed to the letter. However, the omission -sat very lightly on the once admired of all admirers at Port Blair. - -One morning it happened that Helen was in the drawing-room when a bosom -friend of Carrie's came to call—a Miss Fowler Sharpe, a fashionable -acquaintance whom the Misses Platt toadied, for she had the _entrée_ to -circles barred to them, and they hoped to use her as a pass key. - -They made a great deal of the lady, flattered her, caressed her, and -ran after her, all of which was agreeable to Miss Sharpe. She was a -very elegantly dressed London girl, who spoke with a drawl, and gave -one the idea that her eyelids were too heavy for her eyes. She had come -over to Cream Street to make some arrangements about an opera-box, and -to have a little genteel gossip. - -Helen was busily engaged in sewing Madras muslin and coloured bows -on the backs of some of the chairs, where she was "discovered" by -her cousins and their friend, to whom she was presented in a hasty, -off-hand manner, which plainly said, "You need not notice her!" - -Miss Sharpe stared for a second, vouchsafed her a little nod, then sat -down with her back to Helen and speedily forgot her existence. - -The three friends were soon deep in conversation, whilst she worked -steadily on, kneeling at the chair she was dressing with her face -turned away from the company. - -Their principal topics were dress and weddings, weddings and dress, and -who was flirting with whom, and what was likely to be a match, and what -was not, and who looked lovely in such a gown, and what men were in -town. - -At length Helen, who had not been attending, caught one syllable that -made her start and pause, and then listen with a heightened colour and -a beating heart. - -"Yes, I hear that Gilbert Lisle is actually coming back; he has been -away among savages this last time, positively fraternizing with -cannibals." - -"Gilbert Lisle coming home!" cried Carrie. "Then Kate Calderwood will -be happy at last. I suppose it will be all arranged this season?" - -"Yes, his father is most anxious that he should settle; indeed, I -believe he wrote him out a furious letter, and said that if he did not -come home without delay he would marry again _himself_!" At this threat -all three ladies laughed immoderately. - -"Imagine any sane woman marrying such an old Turk as Lord Lingard!" -drawled Miss Sharpe. "He is seventy if he is a day, bald and beaky, -and with a temper that has a European notoriety; the very idea of his -supposing that he would get _any one_ to take him!" - -"Yes, hideous old creature," chimed in Clara; "he always reminds me of -a white cockatoo with a pink bill." - -(Nevertheless, any one of these young ladies would have said "Yes" with -pleasure had Lord Lingard asked them to be his.) - -"I cannot imagine how any one ever married him originally," pursued -Miss Sharpe; "and yet they say that Lady Lingard was one of the -handsomest women of her day." - -"Oh, but," put in Clara, delighted to impart this class of information, -"you know, they say that she married him out of pique, and she did not -live long. I suppose he worried her into her grave." - -"No," rejoined Miss Sharpe; "though he _may_ have helped to kill her, -she died of consumption." - -"Did she? and her eldest son is following her. He is in a rapid -decline," added Carrie. "And you say that Gilbert Lisle is really -coming home?" suddenly falling back on the original topic. - -"So I'm told. Mother is going to send him a card for our dance. But I -never believe in him till I see him." - -"How I wish we knew him," ejaculated Clara, looking at her visitor -wistfully. - -"Oh, you know he is not a society man, only goes to a few houses and -some country places where there is good shooting; now and then you see -him at a ball, or in a squash in some staircase; but he has a very -fair idea of his own value, and never makes himself _cheap_," and Miss -Sharpe smiled rather disagreeably. - -"That's the way with all these rich bachelors," exclaimed Carrie. "They -are so spoilt, and so abominably conceited." - -"I wonder how he got on among the savages?" said Miss Sharpe. - -Little did she guess that the girl who was sitting in the background, -with bent head and burning face, could have answered her question then -and there. - -"I wonder if it will come off with Katie, after all?" exclaimed Carrie. -"She is the girl he used to ride with in the park last year, is she -not?—very freckled, with high shoulders. She comes to our church. I -wonder what he sees in her?" she added. - -"It is his father, my dear, who sees _everything_ in her: her property -'march,' as they call it, with the Lingard estates." - -"And so she is to be Mrs. Gilbert Lisle?" - -"I believe so." And with this remark the subject dropped. - -Helen had listened to this conversation with crimson face and throbbing -heart. Everything was accounted for now; he had been simply amusing -himself with her. This man, who was accustomed to be made much of by -London beauties, who was eagerly sought for by house parties in country -houses—was it likely that he would be really serious in making love -to an obscure girl like herself, a girl whom he had come across in his -wanderings among savage islands? "No," she told herself, "not at all -likely; his actions spoke for him. He had been simply seeing how much -she would believe, repeating a _rôle_ that he had doubtless played -dozens of times previously. And during his wanderings his wealthy -destined bride, Miss Calderwood, was all the time awaiting him in -England. _She_ was to be Mrs. Gilbert Lisle." - -"I do declare you have stitched that on the wrong side out! What can -you _have_ been thinking of?" demanded Clara very sharply, when her -fashionable friend had departed. "You will have to rip it, and put it -on properly. Your wits must have been wool-gathering!" - -If Clara had known where her cousin's thoughts had been, she would -have been very much surprised for once in her life, and ejaculated her -favourite exclamation, "Fancy, just fancy!" with unusual animation. - -The day after this visit Helen was asked to accompany her cousin -Carrie on foot to Bond Street, not an unusual honour. She was useful -for carrying small parcels; true, her mourning was shabby, but none of -the Platts' acquaintances knew who she was, and, if the worst came to -the worst, she might pass as a superior-looking lady's-maid. On their -way back from the shops Carrie took it into her head to take a turn -in the park. It was about twelve o'clock, and the Row was gay with a -fashionable throng of pedestrians. Carrie met several friends, to whom -she gave a bow here and a nod there, and Helen, to her great amazement, -recognized one while yet afar off, and, although garbed in a frock -coat and tall hat—yes, she actually beheld Mr. Quentin coming towards -her, walking with a very well-dressed woman, and followed by two red -dachshunds. She was positive that the recognition was mutual, and was -pleased in her present barren life to hail any acquaintance from Port -Blair—even him! When they came almost face to face she bowed and -smiled, and would have stopped, but he merely glanced at her as if she -were some most casual acquaintance, swept off his hat, and passed on. -Evidently Port Blair and Rotten Row were two very different places. - -A flood of scarlet rushed over her face, which her quick-eyed companion -did not fail to notice, and said— - -"Who is that gentleman?" - -"A Mr. Quentin. I knew him at Port Blair." - -"Fancy! I have heard of him. He is quite in society; he is a friend of -the Sharpes. I believe he is rather fascinating—but frightfully in -debt." - -Helen made no reply, but walked on in silence, and Miss Platt put two -and two together with much satisfaction to herself. Helen's undoubted -confusion signified of course that she cherished an unrequited -attachment for this good-looking, faithless man who had just now gone -by with a cool ceremonious bow. So much for her cousin's admirers in -the Andamans! - - * * * * * - -It was now the end of May, and Helen had been six weeks in London, -but so far not a word had been mooted to her about her future plans. -She made herself useful, working, shopping, going messages; her aunt -admitted to herself that she was quite as good as another servant in -the house (though she did not actually use the word servant, even in -her thoughts); she was a handy, useful, industrious girl, and did not -put herself forward; so the matter of getting her a situation had been -allowed to remain somewhat in abeyance. - -Helen knew that she must eventually "move on," but had a nervous dread -of broaching the subject to her relations. Day after day she failed -to bring her courage to the sticking-point; but the question, ever -trembling on her lips, at last found utterance, and finding herself -alone with Mrs. Platt one morning, she said timidly— - -"Have you made any plans about _me_, Aunt Julia?" - -"Yes, my dear," was the surprisingly prompt answer, "it is all quite -settled; I had intended speaking to you before, but something put it -out of my head. I have an important letter to write just now, but when -the girls go out this evening you and I will have a talk together." - -In due time the Miss Platts departed in the brougham, bound for a -little dinner and the play. - -Helen, who had assisted to adorn them, partook of a meat tea with her -aunt, and then they both adjourned to the little den upon the stairs. -There, by the light of a crimson-shaded lamp, Mrs. Platt read the day's -news, and Helen sewed and waited—waited for a very long time, and, -needless to say, she was most impatient to learn her fate. - -Her aunt was a lady who never worked, and rarely opened a book, but -devoted her whole time to writing, talking, organizing, eating, -sleeping and dressing. She perused the paper as a daily duty, just to -see what was going on; and after she had now read every word of it, -including advertisements, she folded it up with a crackling noise, and -said rather suddenly,— - -"This is a capital opportunity for us to have a nice little chat. I -have been intending to speak to you for some time. Of course you know, -dear, that your father left his affairs in a terrible state. I was not -the least surprised to hear it, and all that can be scraped together -for you is fourteen pounds a year—less than a kitchen-maid's wages," -shrugging her shoulders. "There is no use in saying anything about the -dead; what is done is done; nor that, to satisfy his ridiculous ideas -of honour, he left his only child——" - -"No, no use, Aunt Julia, for I would not listen to you," interrupted -Helen with sudden fire. Mrs. Platt was astounded; this outbreak -recalled old days, she positively recoiled before the expression of her -niece's eyes, the imperious gesture of her hand. She leant back in her -chair with folded arms, and sat for some moments in indignant silence, -when she reached out two fingers and pulled the lamp-shade down, so -that her face was completely in the shadow. She had reason to do so, -for she was going to say things of which she might unquestionably be -ashamed; and once more she commenced, as if repeating something she had -previously rehearsed: - -"Ours is the oddest family, we have so few relations on the Denis side, -no nice connections, no influential friends; when your grandfather (why -could she not say my father?) came to such a fearful smash all his old -associates abandoned him, as rats leave a sinking ship. I married, and -made new ties, your father married too; but, as far as I know, your -mother had no respectable belongings. My sister Christina also made a -wretched match; she married a half-crazy Irish professor she picked up -at Bonn, he afterwards came in for some miserable Irish property, on -which he lives, but _he_ could do nothing, he can hardly keep the wolf -and bailiffs from the door as it is. Christina, as I suppose you know, -died last Christmas." - -"No, Aunt Julia, I never heard of it." - -"Oh, well, of course it does not affect you." (Nor did it apparently -much affect Mrs. Platt.) "She and I had not met for many years. Then -there is my aunt Sophia—your grand-aunt. She is an invalid, and lives -at Bournemouth, scarcely ever leaving her room. She is very wealthy, -and we correspond constantly, but most of her money goes to charities, -in which she takes an interest, and unfortunately she takes no interest -in _you_. She has got it into her head that you are worldly!" - -Helen stared round the lamp-shade, to see if her aunt was joking. - -"It's quite true," responded Mrs. Platt, meeting her gaze, "and once -she gets an idea into her head,—there it stays. So it is rather -unfortunate; but, at any rate, all her thoughts are at present centred -on a mission to the Laps. Then," with a perceptible pause, "we come -to myself. I am not a rich woman" (though she strained every nerve to -appear so, and had upwards of three thousand a year), "I spend every -penny of my income, and am often pressed for money. Of course, in the -country or at the seaside we would have a margin, but the girls would -not hear of living anywhere but in town—and naturally I have to study -them, and their interests." - -"Of course, Aunt Julia," acquiesced her listener. - -"This is a ruinous neighbourhood, and this house, though so tiny, -costs four hundred a year; no doubt for half that sum, I would get a -mansion in Bayswater; but, as the girls say, there is no use in being -in town at all if you don't live in the best part of it, and here we -are! Then we require to keep up a certain style to correspond with -the situation—a man-servant is indispensable, and a carriage; the -horses, of course, are jobbed. Again, we have to entertain, to go to -the seaside, to dress—and this last, even with Plunket making half the -things, costs a small fortune! The long and the short of it is that, -out of my very tolerable income, I never have a single sixpence at the -end of the year. This being the case, you will readily understand, my -dear Helen, that, much as I should _wish_ to do so—I cannot offer you -a home here." - -"No, of course, Aunt Julia, I never expected you to do so," replied her -niece in a low voice. - -"You are a sensible girl, wonderfully so for your age, and I talk -to you, you see, as openly and as frankly as if you were my own -contemporary. I could not afford to dress you as you would require -to be dressed, and take you out; besides, the brougham is a crush -for three as it is, and three girls at a dance would be out of the -question. I must say, I should have _liked_ to have given you a season, -but, as Clara points out, my taking you into society would entail -leaving one of them behind, and charity begins at home; and, candidly, -I am very anxious to see them settled." - -"Yes, aunt, of course I understand that your own daughters should come -first." - -"And besides all this, my love," waxing more affectionate as she -proceeded, "I really have no room to give you. Plunket requires one to -herself; there is mine, and the girls', and the spare room, and, you -see——" - -"I see, Aunt Julia," interrupted her niece, "don't say another word. -And now what are your plans for me?" - -"Well, I had hoped to have got you a very happy, comfortable home, with -a very rich old lady in the country, who required a nice cheerful young -girl to talk to her, and read to her, and be with her constantly. She -was rather astray mentally—a little weak, you know; but you would have -got two hundred a year. However——" and she stopped. - -"However, aunt——?" - -"Well, I heard indirectly that she was liable to rather _violent_ -paroxysms occasionally, and came to the conclusion that it would not -do! I have been making inquiries among my friends—of course, it's -rather a delicate business, and I don't mention that you are my own -niece; it would be so very awkward, you know; but I hope to hear of -something suitable ere long. Meanwhile, dear, I'm sure you won't be -offended at my telling you that we shall want your room next week!" - -Helen's hands shook, her lips trembled, so that for the moment she was -unable to speak. Was she to be turned out of doors? She had exactly -four pounds in her purse upstairs! - -"Clara's rich godmother always comes to us for June," continued Mrs. -Platt, "and we have to study her, and to make the house bright and -pleasant; it is then we always give our little dinner-parties. We do -our best to please her; she is very liberal to the girls, and we could -not possibly put her off. She will have the spare room, as usual,—and -her maid always occupies _yours_." - -"Yes, Aunt Julia." - -"I have made a very nice, temporary arrangement for you, dearest! A -lady I know, who keeps a large school at Kensington, has most kindly -offered to take you gratis for a month or two,—till we can look about -us. You are to teach the younger classes French and music." - -"In short, go to her as governess?" - -"Oh, dear me, no," irritably; "it is a mere friendly offer. She obliges -you, you oblige her, as one of her staff has gone home ill, and she is -rather short-handed just now." - -"And will she pay me?" inquired Helen as bluntly as Mrs. Creery herself. - -"Oh, no, I don't think there was any reference to that! Perhaps your -laundress may be included; but you scarcely seem to understand that -she is going to give you board and lodging for _nothing_. You are not -sufficiently experienced for a governess!" - -"But——" began Helen, thinking of her superior musical talents and -fluent French. - -"But," interrupted her aunt tartly, "if you can think of any other -expedient for a couple of months, or have a better suggestion to make, -let us have it, by all means!" - -Her hearer pondered. There was Miss Twigg, Miss Twigg no longer; she -was married, and had gone out to Canada. Mrs. Home was in Germany, her -former schoolfellows were scattered,—to whom could she turn? - -"Of course this is a mere temporary step, as I said before," urged her -aunt. "I shall do much better for you in the autumn; I have great hopes -of getting you a comfortable home through some of my friends, and as a -favour to _me_. So, meanwhile, will you go to Mrs. Kane's or not?" - -"Yes, aunt; I will do whatever you please." - -"Very well, then, that is settled. I must get your things done up a -little first. Your aunt Sophia sent ten pounds for you, and I was -thinking that as the girls were going out of mourning—three months, -you know, is ample for an uncle—that you might help Plunket to remodel -one or two of their dresses for yourself." - -Helen felt a lump in her throat, that nearly choked her. She would wear -a cast-off garment of Mrs. Home's with pleasure, and accept it as it -was meant; but Clara's and Carrie's!—never! And she managed to stammer -out,— - -"No, thank you, Aunt Julia; I shall do very well." - -"But that black every-day dress is not fit to be seen." - -"It will do in the school-room,—and I shall get another." - -"Now I consider that wanton extravagance, when you can have Clara's -for nothing. Perhaps your dignity is offended?" and she laughed at the -mere idea of such a possibility, and then added, "By the way, _are_ you -proud?" - -Helen made no reply, but bent her eyes on her work. - -"Then, my dear child, the sooner you get rid of that folly the -better,—for poverty, and pride, are no match for one another." - -"How soon did you say I was to go to Mrs. Kane's, aunt?" - -"On Monday next. You can leave your big box here still, and if you like -to come over to lunch every second Sunday, you may do so. But I doubt -if you will care for the long walk across the park,—or if Mrs. Kane -could spare a servant to walk home with you." - -"Then, thank you, I won't mind." - -"Well, dear," rising as if a load had been removed from her mind, -"I believe we have settled everything satisfactorily. It is so much -pleasanter to talk over these matters face to face. And now, love, -I'll say good-night. I daresay you would like to finish Carrie's -handkerchief before you go upstairs." Then, stooping and kissing her, -she added, "Be sure you put the lamp out carefully," and with this -parting injunction, Aunt Julia opened the door, and departed, leaving -her orphan niece alone with her own thoughts. - -Helen stitched away mechanically for nearly ten minutes, then she laid -down her work, and sat with her hands lying idly in her lap, and her -eyes riveted upon the rose-coloured lamp-shade, but her thoughts did -not take any reflection from that brilliant hue. The life that had -begun so brightly now stretched out before her mental vision as grey -and dreary as a winter's day. She was imperiously summoned to work for -herself, to take up her post in the battle of existence, to toil for -her daily bread for the future,—her only aim being to lay by some -provision for her old age; she saw before her years of drudgery, with -but this end in view. She had no friends, no relations, no money. A -cold, dull despair settled down upon her soul, as she sat in the same -attitude for fully an hour. At last she rose, folded up her work, -carefully extinguished the lamp, and then made her way noiselessly up -to her own apartment under the slates. - - - - -CHAPTER XXVIII. - -MALVERN HOUSE. - - "Come what, come may— - Time and the hour runs through the roughest day." - - _Macbeth._ - - -A FEW days after her aunt had thus frankly unfolded her plans, Helen -was out shopping,—officiating as companion and carrier to her cousin -Clara—and again encountered Mr. Quentin. He was strolling down -Piccadilly, looking like a drawing from a tailor's fashion plate, and -evidently in a superbly contented frame of mind. On this occasion -(being alone) he condescended to accost Miss Denis, entirely ignoring -their previous meeting in the park. - -"Delighted to see you,"—shaking her vigorously by the hand. "And how -long have you been in town?" - -"Nearly two months." - -"I need not ask you how you are?"—Yes, to himself, she was getting -back her looks—"And where are you staying?" - -"With my aunt—in Upper Cream Street." - -"Upper Cream Street!" he echoed, with increased respect in his tone, -and a look of faint surprise in his dreamy blue eyes. "Then I shall -certainly make a point of coming to see you.—What is your number?" - -"Thank you, very much; but I am leaving on Monday—(this was -Saturday)—and," looking him bravely in the face, she added, "I am -going to a situation. I am going out as a governess." - -Mr. Quentin was somewhat disconcerted by this rather blunt -announcement, but he did not lose his presence of mind, and said in his -most airy manner,— - -"Oh, really!—well, then, on another occasion I may hope to be more -fortunate—during the holidays, perhaps?" glancing interrogatively at -Clara Platt, who returned his gaze with a stare of dull phlegmatic -hauteur, implying an utter repudiation of her cousin, and all her -concerns. - -Turning once more to Helen, he said,— - -"Heard any news from Port Blair?" - -"No, not lately." - -"Awful hole, wasn't it? I wonder we did not all hang ourselves, or go -mad!" - -"I liked it very much, I must confess," she replied, rather shyly. - -"Oh!" shrugging his shoulders, "every one to their taste, of course. -No doubt it seemed an earthly Paradise to a young lady just out from -school; and you had it all your own way, you know. By-the-by, I wonder -what has become of Lisle? Some one said he was in California,—I -suppose _you_ have not heard?" - -There was a half-ironic, half-bantering look in his eyes, and the same -amiable impulse that impelled him to pull the legs off flies when he -was a pretty little boy, was actuating him now. - -"I," she stammered, considerably taken aback by this unexpected -question, and meeting his glance with a faint flush,—"Oh, no." - -"Well, I see that I am detaining you now,"—with another glance at -Clara—"I hope we shall meet again before long; good-bye," and with -a smile and sweep of his hat, he walked away in a highly effective -manner. He was scarcely out of earshot, ere Miss Platt burst forth, as -if no longer able to restrain herself,— - -"Helen, how could you! How _could_ you tell him all our private -affairs. I never was so disgusted in my life. What was the good of -informing him that you were going to be a governess, and, as it were, -thrusting the news down his throat?" - -"What was the harm? For the future, of course, he will drop my -acquaintance. Though there is nothing degrading in the post, I am quite -certain that he, as he would call it, 'draws the line at governesses,' -and, indeed,—from what I have heard you say—so do you." - -"Don't be impertinent to me, if you please, Helen. I think you totally -forget yourself sometimes, and all you owe to mother and to us." - -"You need not be afraid, that I shall _ever_ allow such a heavy -obligation to escape my memory," returned Helen, with complete -equanimity. - -Was she likely to forget these months of making, and mending, parcel -carrying, and general slavery to her cousins Clara and Carrie? Her -companion was conscious that there was a hidden sting in this speech, -but contented herself with gobbling some incoherent remark, lost in her -throat, about "ingratitude" and "insolence." After this little skirmish -the two ladies did not exchange another syllable, and they reached -their own hall door in dead silence. - -"Odious, detestable girl!" cried Clara to her sister, as she flung off -her hat, and tore off her gloves in their mutual bower. "What do you -think? When we were coming home we met that Mr. Quentin, and he stopped -and talked to her for ever so long, and she never _introduced_ me!" - -"Well, I'm sure! However, it was no loss, you know he has not sixpence." - -"No; but listen. He asked her where she was staying, and said he was -coming to call, and she actually told him, with the utmost composure, -that he need not mind, as she was going to a situation on Monday as -governess—I was crimson! I'm sure she did it out of pure spite, just -to make me feel uncomfortable." - -"Not a doubt of it," acquiesced her sister. "How excessively annoying! -That man knows the Sharpes, and Talbots, and Jenkins', and the whole -thing will come out now; after all the trouble we have taken to keep it -quiet, and telling every one she was going to friends in the suburbs." - -"Yes," chimed in Clara, wrathfully. "What possesses people to persecute -us with questions about our cousin—our _pretty_ cousin, forsooth! Such -a sweet-looking, interesting girl. Pah! I'm perfectly sick of her name, -and the prying and pushing of one's acquaintance, is really shameless. -Old Mrs. Parsons has returned to the charge again and again. She has no -more tact or delicacy than a cook. Do we ever worry her, about _her_ -poor relations, and 'how they have been _left_,' as she calls it?" - -"No, thank goodness," replied Carrie, emphatically; now addressing -herself to her own plain reflection in the looking-glass. "There is -no coarse, vulgar curiosity about _us_, I am happy to say. _We_ are -ladies." - -And with this sustaining conviction in their bosoms, these two sweet -sisters descended affectionately arm in arm to luncheon. - -On Monday morning, Mrs. Platt herself carried her niece to her future -abode in the family brougham. Their destination was a square, detached, -red brick mansion, remarkable for long rows of windows with brown wire -blinds, an outward air of primness bordering on severity, and a brass -plate on the gate the size of a tea-tray, which bore the following -address: "Malvern House.—Mrs. Kane's establishment for young ladies." - -As Helen and her aunt ascended the spotless steps, and rang the -dazzling bell, the sound of many pianos, all discoursing different -tunes, scales, songs, and exercises, was absolutely deafening. - -Mrs. Kane received her new governess very graciously, and when Mrs. -Platt had taken her departure, she personally introduced her to the -scene of her future labours without any unnecessary delay, sweeping -down upon the classes with Miss Denis in her train, and launching her -into school-life with a neat little speech, which had done worthy -service on similar occasions. - -The school-room was a long apartment, lighted by five windows and lined -with narrow black desks, at which were seated about fifty girls; and -although silence was the rule, a little low buzz, a kind of intangible -humming of the human voice, was distinctly audible to the new arrival, -as she stood in the midst of what, to a timid young woman, would have -seemed a kind of social lion's den. - -Mrs. Kane had twenty boarders and thirty day scholars; and between -the two parties an internecine war was quietly but fiercely carried -on from term to term, and from year to year, and handed down from one -generation to another, as faithfully as the feud between the Guelphs -and Ghibellines. It was rumoured in both factions that Bogey's -successor ("Bogey" was their flattering sobriquet for their late -governess) "had come in a carriage and pair; Annie Jones had seen it -out of the music-room window;" and the young ladies were inclined to -treat her with more tolerance, than if she had merely arrived in an -ordinary "growler." Of course, all the hundred eyes were instantly -unwinkingly fixed on the new-comer as she walked up the room in the -wake of her employer. They beheld a young lady in deep mourning, slight -and fair, and—yes—positively pretty! quite as good-looking, and not -much older than Rosalie Gay, the belle of the school. They noticed that -she did not appear the least bit shy or nervous (twelve years in a -similar establishment stood to Helen now); she was not a whit abashed -by the gaze of all these tall, staring girls, who were subsequently -surprised to discover that she was perfectly conversant with school -rules and routine; and more than this, that despite her youth, and fair -sad face, she could be both determined and firm. - -A large staff of masters, who taught music, singing, drawing, dancing, -and literature, came and went all day long at Malvern House; but the -only resident teachers besides Helen, were a Mrs. Lane, a widow, who -looked after the housekeeping, poured out tea, and taught needlework, -and Mademoiselle Clémence Torchon, a Parisienne, with whom Helen found -herself thrown into the closest companionship. They occupied the same -room, sat side by side at table, and walked together daily behind the -long line of chattering boarders. Clémence was a young woman of about -eight-and-twenty, who had come to England more with a view of learning -that language, than of imparting her own tongue. She was square, -and stout, and sallow; was better conversant with French poetry, -than verbs, maintaining her personal dignity by a stolid impassive -demeanour; boasted a noble appetite, and was unblushingly selfish, and -surprisingly mean. She honoured her new companion with a large share -of her confidence, and during their daily airings, poured into her -unwilling ears, the praises of a certain adorable "Jules," and even -compelled her, when half asleep at night, to sit up and listen to his -letters! letters written on many sheets of pink paper, and crammed with -vaguely sentimental stilted sentences, signifying nothing tangible, -nothing matrimonial, but nevertheless affording the keenest pleasure -to Mademoiselle Torchon. The young English teacher could not afford to -quarrel with so close an associate, and feigned a respectable amount of -civility and interest; but how often did she wish "_ce cher Jules_," -not to speak of his effusions,—at the bottom of the deep blue sea! -Once or twice mademoiselle had hinted, that she was good-naturedly -prepared to receive a return of confidences in kind; and had even gone -so far as to say, "Have _you_ ever had a lover?" - -Her listener's thoughts turned promptly to a certain moonlight -night, the scent of orange-flowers, the shade of palms, and all the -appropriate accessories of a love-tale, not forgetting Gilbert Lisle's -eloquent dark eyes, and low-whispered, broken vows. Nevertheless, Miss -Denis cleverly parried this embarrassing question, and mademoiselle, -having but little interest to spare from her own affairs, dismissed the -subject with an encouraging assurance "that, perhaps some day or other -she might also have a Jules," as she was, though rather _triste_ and -frightfully thin, "_pas mal pour une Anglaise!_" - -Mrs. Kane withdrew into private life the moment that school hours were -over. When the bell rang at four o'clock for the departure of the day -scholars, she disappeared and left the burden of surveillance to Miss -Denis and mademoiselle—the latter, like the unselfish darling that she -was, shuffled off her share of the load upon her companion's shoulders, -and generally ascended to her own room, where she lay upon her bed, -devouring chocolate-creams and French novels for the remainder of the -day. - -Helen's duties commenced at seven o'clock in the morning, at which hour -she was obliged to be in the school-room, to keep order, and they were -not at an end till she had turned off the gas in the dormitories at -half-past nine at night; after that, her time was her own,—and she was -then at liberty to listen to Clémence's maunderings, and Jules' last -letter. - -Mrs. Kane soon discovered that her new governess was a clever girl, -with stability and force of character beyond her years, moreover, that -she had unusual influence with the pupils, and was popular in the -school-room; so she engaged her permanently at a salary of forty pounds -a year—and washing. This offer was accepted with alacrity, for Mrs. -Platt seemed to have wholly forgotten her niece, and the comfortable -home that she had promised to secure for her, and Helen gladly settled -herself down, as a permanent member of the Malvern House staff. Weeks -rolled into months, months into quarters, and nothing came to break -the dull monotony of her existence, beyond occasional letters from -Mrs. Home and Mrs. Durand, and a visit to Smithson Villa; she actually -hailed the arrival of the yellow brougham, with unalloyed delight, and -had not shrunk from sharing it,—not merely with her hostess, and the -dogs, and the weekly groceries, but with a leg of New Zealand mutton, -that was to furnish forth the family dinner. She liked Lady Grubb, -despite her little eccentricities. She even enjoyed (so low had she -fallen!) the perusal of Mrs. Creery's latest effusions from Port Blair. -In Lady Grubb's back drawing-room, with one of these in her hand, she -seemed to hold in her grasp the last feeble link that bound her to her -former happy life among those distant tropical seas. - -She did her utmost to live altogether in the present, to invest all -her thoughts and energies in her daily tasks, and to shut her eyes to -the future—and still more difficult feat—to close them to the past. -Month after month, she toiled on with busy, unabated zeal (Mrs. Kane -warmly congratulating herself on the possession of such a _rara avis_, -and giving her mentally, a considerable increase of salary). She rose -early, and went to rest late, her mind was at its fullest tension all -day long; she was working at too high pressure, the strain was beyond -her physical powers, and the consequence was, she broke down. Gradually -she lost sleep, and appetite, became pale, and thin, and haggard. - -"My dear," said Mrs. Kane with some concern, "we must get you away for -a change. The doctor says you ought to go home, and have a good long -rest." - -"But I have no home, Mrs. Kane.—I am an orphan," she returned, -gravely. "I'm not nearly as ill as I seem, in fact I'm not ill at all! -There is nothing the matter with me, I'm as strong as a horse. You must -not mind my _looks_!" - -"Would you not like to go to your aunt's for a week or two? I see she -has returned from abroad." - -"No, thank you, I would ten times rather go to the poor-house," she -answered, unguardedly. "Excuse me, perhaps I'm a little hasty, but I'm -proud, and I, if I must come to beggary, prefer public charity, to the -private benevolence of—relations." - -But in spite of Helen's repudiation of the hospitality of her kindred, -Mrs. Kane wrote a polite little note to 15, Upper Cream Street, that -brought Mrs. Platt to Malvern House, the very next day,—in a peevish, -not to say injured, frame of mind. - -"Well, Helen," she exclaimed, as her niece entered the drawing-room, -"so I hear you are in the doctor's hands;"—making a peck at her -as she spoke. "Let me see! there's not much the matter with you, I -fancy.—For goodness' sake, don't get the idea into your head that you -are _delicate_!" - -"You may be sure that that is the last thing I shall do, Aunt Julia." - -"I must talk to Mrs. Kane, and tell her you should take extract of -malt. She will have to fatten you up.—Yes, certainly, you want -fattening;"—speaking exactly as if she were alluding to a young -Christmas turkey. "And so, I hear, you are giving satisfaction, and -that you are a very good musician, and linguist! I am glad your poor -father's extravagant education, has not been entirely thrown away! Mrs. -Kane speaks very highly of you. But, dear me, child, why did you not -take equal advantage of other opportunities; why did you not make hay -in the Andamans?" - -"Hay! aunt. There was none to make, beyond a very small crop in the -General's compound." - -"You know very well what _I_ mean, you provoking girl! I'm certain you -had offers of marriage. Now had you not?" - -Helen made no disclaimer to this, beyond a slight shrug of her -shoulders. - -"Come, come! Silence gives consent. How many?" - -"What does it signify, aunt? All girls out there——" - -"That is no answer," persisted Mrs. Platt, tapping her foot on the -floor. - -"Well, I do not think it is fair to tell." - -"But you could have married?" - -"Yes, I suppose I may admit as much as that." - -"And instead of being comfortably settled in your own house, here you -are, slaving away all your best years, and best looks in a school. I'm -sure you are sorry enough _now_, that you did not say 'yes!'" - -"On the contrary, I have never regretted saying 'no,'—and never will." - -"Perhaps there was some one who did _not_ come forward?" inquired the -elder lady, with a rather sour smile. - -"Perhaps there was, aunt!" she rejoined, with a laugh, that entirely -baffled Mrs. Platt, who, after surveying her for some seconds in -searching silence, exclaimed,— - -"Well, you are a queer girl! I can't make you out! I certainly could -not imagine _you_ caring a straw for any man! Your face entirely -belies your real disposition; it gives people the idea that you are -capable of deep feelings—perhaps of what is called '_une grande -passion_'—whereas, in reality, you are cold and as unresponsive as the -typical iceberg. However, considering your present circumstances, and -youth, and good looks,—perhaps it is just as well!" - -Having delivered herself of this opinion, as though it were an oracle, -Mrs. Platt sank into a tone of easy confidential discourse, and -imparted to her listener, that her recent campaign on the Continent, -had not been entirely barren of results. A certain elderly widower, -had been "greatly attracted" by Clara, and had paid her considerable -attention, and that it was not unlikely, that they would have a wedding -before very long. And after a good deal more in this strain, and yet -more, on the subject of the frightful expenses she had incurred abroad, -and the paralyzing prices of some of the French hotels, Mrs. Platt, -with a final recommendation of extract of malt, went her way, and drove -home alone, in her comfortable, plush-lined brougham. - -Helen continued to struggle on from day to day, and conscientiously -fulfilled her allotted duties. She indignantly refused to accept the -_rôle_ of invalid; she told herself that, could she but tide over -the next six weeks, she would contrive a trip to some cheap seaside -resort, and there recruit her shattered health—her health that was her -only capital! What was to become of her if she broke down? she would -have no resource but charity! She shivered at the very thought. Each -day her round of tasks became more of an effort; she felt as if some -dreadful, unknown illness was lying in wait, and dogging her steps hour -after hour. Sometimes the room swam round, and figures and words in -exercise-books seemed to mix and run about before her aching eyes. But -so far, by sheer force of will she fought off the enemy, and fiercely -refused to surrender. - -When ten days had elapsed, Mrs. Platt was once more in Mrs. Kane's -drawing-room, the bearer of a letter in her pocket, that she flattered -herself would remove her poor relation entirely out of her own orbit. - -"My dear, I declare you look really ill—very ill!" she exclaimed, -as her niece entered. "Don't come near me,"—moving suddenly across -the room, and making a gesture of repudiation with both hands,—"keep -away, there's a good girl! I'm certain you are sickening for -something,—diphtheria or small-pox! Small-pox is raging. You must see -a doctor immediately, and take precautions. If it is anything, you will -have to be sent to a hospital at _once_!" - -"You need not be the least alarmed, Aunt Julia; there is nothing the -matter with me. My head aches, and I'm tired sometimes; that is all, I -assure you." - -"Oh, well,"—rather relieved—"I'm sure I _hope_ so, otherwise it would -be most awkward! I understand now, that you really require a change, -and it is principally about that, I have come over to see you. I have -had a letter I wish to show you,"—sinking into an easy chair, and -commencing to fumble in her pocket. "Yes, here it is,"—handing it -to her niece, who unfolded it, and ran her eyes over the following -effusion:— - - "DEAREST MOTHER,—Carrie and I cannot possibly go home this week, - there is so much coming off; and _Mr. Jones is here_! Please send down - our black lace dresses, our new opera cloaks, and some flowers from - that man in the Bayswater Road. We shall be rather short of money, - so you might enclose some—say, a five pound note—in an envelope in - my dress pocket. So sorry you are having all this worry about Helen. - What a tiresome creature she is! Of course it is quite out of the - question, that we should take her in; be _sure_ you impress that very - firmly on her mind, mother dear. Is there not a convalescent home for - broken-down governesses? Some charitable institution that she could go - to?—" - -"Charitable institution!" echoed Helen, aloud. - -"Oh, dear me! I believe I've given you the wrong letter," -exclaimed Mrs. Platt, in great confusion. "Here! this must be your -uncle's,"—extending her hand as she spoke. "I'm getting so blind, and -this room is so dark, I really can't see what I'm doing," she added, in -a rather apologetic tone, her eyes sinking before her niece's,—for she -saw in them that she had read what Carrie had written; as for Helen, -her heart beat unusually fast, her nerves were on edge, her wrath was -kindled. - -"Quite out of the question that we should take her in!" She had never -dreamt of being lodged again under her aunt's roof, but somehow, seeing -the fact so plainly stated in black and white, stung her to revolt. - -What had her aunt and cousins done for her, that she should be sent -hither or thither at their bidding? She had toiled for them, as an -upper servant, a lady help, in return for food and lodging, and she was -now wholly independent, and earning her own living by incessant hard -work. These thoughts flew through her mind as she opened letter No. 2, -which was written in a small cramped hand on a large sheet of paper, -and ran as follows:— - - "Crowmore, - "Terryscreen, May 8th. - - "DEAR MADAM,—I am this day in receipt of your communication, - informing me that my late wife's niece, Helen Denis, is in England, - an orphan, and entirely dependent on her friends."—"Dependent - on her friends!" re-read Helen, quivering with indignation and - self-restraint—"I shall be glad to give her a home under my roof, and - if you will favour me with her address I shall correspond with her - personally, and make all needful arrangements for her journey to this - place. - - "I am, Madam, - "Your obedient servant, - "MALACHI SHERIDAN." - -"A very kind letter," said his niece, gratefully. - -"Yes, poor crazy creature," acquiesced Mrs. Platt, "I suppose he _has_ -lucid intervals,"—then, after a pause, she added—"Of course you will -go, Helen?" - -"I am not sure; I must think it over." - -"Think it over! what nonsense. What more do you want? At any rate, -Helen, bear in mind, that _I_ have done all I can." - -"Yes, Aunt Julia; pray do not trouble yourself any more about me; I -release you of all responsibility on my behalf. Indeed, in future, you -may as well forget my existence!" - -She had risen as she spoke, and leant her elbow on the chimney-piece, -and her head on her hand. She looked unusually tall, and unexpectedly -dignified. For a moment Mrs. Platt felt almost in awe of her penniless -niece, but she soon recovered her ordinary mental attitude, and said -rather sharply,— - -"Don't talk nonsense! I see your nerves and temper are completely -unstrung! I hope you will be all the better for your trip to Ireland, -but I'm _afraid_ you will find Mr. Sheridan's girls, a pair of uncouth, -ill-bred savages, and, of course, the place is quite in the wilds, -and——" - -"So much the better, aunt; I like the wilds, as you call them, and you -know I'm accustomed to savages." - -"Then I'm sure if _you_ are satisfied,—I am," said Mrs. Platt, -huffily. "And now I really must be going, for we have some people -coming to dinner,"—and with a polite message for Mrs. Kane, and -a request that Helen "would write if anything turned up," a vague -sentence, meaning perhaps a good situation, perhaps an offer of -marriage,—Mrs. Platt embraced her niece, and took her departure. - -Helen remained shivering over the drawing-room fire, re-reading -her uncle's letter, and pondering on her future plans. After all, -disappointing as had been her experience of cousins, she might yet draw -a prize in the lottery of fate, and she determined to brave these Irish -Sheridans. She had thirty pounds in her desk, quite a small fortune, -and if the worst came to the worst, she could always beat a retreat. -With this prudent reservation in her mind, and a burning impatience to -escape _anywhere_, from her present surroundings, she sat down that -very hour, and wrote a grateful acceptance of her uncle's invitation, -and announced her intention of starting for Crowmore, within a week. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIX. - -"YOU REMEMBER MISS DENIS?" - - "I say to thee, though free from care, - A lonely lot, an aimless life, - The crowning comfort is not there— - Son, take a wife." - - _Jean Ingelow._ - - -SCENE: a splendidly furnished dining-room in the most fashionable -square in London; season, end of July; hour, nine p.m.; _dramatis -personæ_, a father and son; the former, an old gentleman with a red -face, beaky nose, and bristling white hair, is holding a glass of -venerable port between his goggle eye and the light, and admonishing -his companion, a sunburnt young man, who is leaning back in his chair -and carelessly rolling a cigarette between his fingers. A young man so -dark, and tanned, that his visage would not look out of place beneath a -Spanish sombrero; nevertheless, we have no difficulty in recognizing -our former friend, Gilbert Lisle. - -"It's positively indecent for a man of your position to go roaming -the world, like some ne'er-do-well, or family black sheep. FitzCurzon -told me he met you on the stairs of some hotel in San Francisco, in -a flannel shirt, butcher boots, and a coat that would have been dear -at fourpence! He declared, that you looked for all the world like a -digger." - -"Curzon—is—a—puppy, who trots round the globe because he says it's -'the thing to do,'" (imitating a drawl), "and never is seen without -kid gloves, and if asked to dine on bear steaks in the Rockies, would -arrive in evening dress and white tie,—or perish in the attempt; -not that he ever ventures off the beaten track of ocean steamers and -express trains; he could not live without his dressing case, and a hard -day's ride would kill him. He was in the finest country in the world -for sport, and he never fired a cartridge!" It was evident from the -speaker's face, that this latter enormity crowned all. - -"Well, you shot enough for _six_! I should think you have killed every -animal, from a mosquito to an elephant; this house is a cross between -a menagerie and a museum. You have been away two years this time, Gil. -'Pon my word, you are as bad as the prodigal son." Here he swallowed -the port at a gulp. - -"I admit that I have been to a far country, but you can scarcely -accuse me of wasting my substance in riotous living," remonstrated his -offspring. - -"I accuse you of wasting your time, sir! which in a man in your -position is worse. Why can you not content yourself at home, as I -do, instead of roaming about like a play actor, or the agent for -some patent medicine! Where's this you were last? a cattle ranche -in Texas,—before that, California,—before that, Japan, dining on -boa-constrictors, and puppy dogs; before that,—the deuce only knows; -you are as fond of walking up and down the earth, and going to and -fro—as—as—the devil in the Psalms, or where was it?" - -"My dear father," replied Gilbert, with the utmost goodhumour. "You -have compared me to a black sheep, a digger,—and I suppose, because -it happens to be Sunday evening,—to the prodigal son; and finally, -the devil! None of your illustrations fit me, and the last I repudiate -altogether; _his_ wanderings, if I remember rightly, were in search of -mischief. Mine were merely in quest of amusement." - -"Amusement and mischief are generally the same thing," grunted Lord -Lingard. "Why, the deuce,—you are over thirty, and getting as grey as -a badger.—Why can't you marry and settle?" - -"Some people marry and never settle, others marry, and are settled with -a vengeance," rejoined his son, now proceeding to light his cigarette. - -"Bah! you are talking nonsense, sir, and you know it; a man in your -position must marry—heir to me, heir to your uncle, heir to yourself." - -"Heir to myself," muttered Gilbert, "well, I shall let myself off -cheap. I must marry, must I? _Je n'en vois pas la nécessité. Après moi -le déluge._" - -"Oh, hang your French lingo!" growled his father. "If I had not wanted -you to marry, I suppose you'd have brought me home a daughter-in-law -years ago—some barmaid, no doubt." - -"Barmaids may be very agreeable young women; but somehow, I don't think -they are just in my line, sir." - -"Line, sir, line! I'll tell you what _is_ in your line! confounded -obstinacy. You had the same strong will when you were a little chap in -white frocks,—no higher than the poker. Once you took a thing into -your head, nothing would move you." - -"In that respect I believe I take after you," returned his son, with -the deepest respect. "A strong determination to have your own way, -helps a man to shove through life—so I have understood you to say." - -"Had me there, neatly, Gilbert! Yes, you score one. Well—well—but -seriously,—I want to have a little rational talk with you. There -is that fine place of yours in Berkshire, shut up all the year -round—think——" - -"Don't say, of my _position_ again, sir, I implore you," interrupted -his son, with a mock tragic gesture. - -"Well, your stake in the country—think of your tenants." - -"I have remembered them to the tune of a reduction of thirty per -cent.—What more do they want?" - -"They would like you to marry some nice-looking girl, and go down, and -live among them." - -"If I did, and kept up a large establishment, took the hounds, and -kept tribes of servants, and had a wife who dressed in hundred-guinea -gowns, and went in for private theatricals, balls, races,—and probably -betting,—I should not be able to make such a pleasant little abatement -in the rent! How would that be?" - -"You would never marry a minx like that, I should hope! Listen to me, -Gilbert," now waxing pathetic, "I am getting to be an old man, and you -are all I have belonging to me. I am lost here alone in this great -big mansion. Marry, and make your home with me; my bark is worse than -my bite, as you know, I would like to see a woman about the house -again—they are cheerful, and brighten up a place, especially if they -are young and pretty. Just look at the two of us sitting on here -over our coffee till nearly eleven o'clock, simply because the big -drawing-room above is empty.—I am not nearly as keen about the club as -I used to be, and these attacks of gout play the very devil with me." - -And here, to his son's blank amazement, he suddenly dropped into -poetry, and quavered out,— - - "Oh woman! in our hours of ease, - Uncertain, coy, and hard to please; - When pain and sickness wring the brow, - A ministering angel thou." - -"You speak in the plural, sir," rejoined Gilbert gravely. "You say, -you like to see women about the house, that they are cheerful, they -brighten up a place. Do you suppose—granting that I am a follower of -Mormon—that six would be sufficient?" - -"I'm not in the humour for jokes! I'm serious, Gilbert, whatever you -may be. I want to see a pretty young face in the carriage, and opera -box, and the family diamonds on a pretty neck and arms—they have not -been worn for years—the very sight of them would make any girl jump at -you," he concluded in a cajoling voice. - -"Then, for heaven's sake, don't display them." - -"Gilbert, you are enough to drive me mad. I begin to think—'pon my -word, I begin to suspect—that you have a reason for all this fencing," -glancing at him suspiciously beneath his frost-white eyebrows—"you are -married already, sir; some low-born adventuress, some disreputable——" - -"I am _not_," interrupted his son with a gesture of impatience. - -"Then you are in love with a married woman!" - -"You seem to have a very exalted idea of my character, sir, but again -you are mistaken." - -"Ha! humph!" tossing off a beaker of port; "then it just comes to this, -you don't think any woman good enough to be the wife of Mr. Lisle! Now -honestly, Gilbert, have you ever seen a girl you would have married?" - -Dead silence succeeded this question. - -"Come, Gilbert," pursued the old gentleman remorselessly. - -"Well, yes—such a person has existed," at length admitted his victim -most reluctantly. - -"And where is she? Why did you not marry her? Where did you meet her?" - -"I met her in the Andamans." - -"The Andamans! Those cannibal islands! This is another of your -confounded jokes!" Now looking alarmingly angry.—"I know as well as -you do, that there are only savages there. Do you take me for a fool, -sir?" - -"There was a large European community at Port Blair. As to taking you -for a fool, it would be the last thing to occur to me—on the contrary, -the young lady took _me_ for one." - -"Then she never made a greater mistake in her life,—never. And why did -it not come off?" - -"She preferred another fellow, that was all." - -"_Preferred!_ humph—good matches must have been growing on the trees -out there. Well, well, well," looking fixedly at his son, "there's as -good fish in the sea as ever were caught—why not fall back on Katie?" - -"It has not come to that _yet_, sir—and I would sooner, if it was all -the same to you, fall back on a loaded revolver." - -"She has the mischief's own temper, I allow—but what a property! -However, you need not look for money—a pretty, lively English girl, -that wears her own hair and complexion, and that can sing a song or -two, and get out of a carriage like a gentlewoman—that's the style! -Eh, Gilbert?" - -"I suppose so, sir," rejoined his son gloomily; "but as the Irishman -said, 'You must give me a long day—a long day, your honour.'" - -"And the old savage replied—I remember it perfectly—'I'll give you -till to-morrow, the twenty-first of June, the longest day in the year!' -And your shrift shall be a short one, my boy! What are you going to do -with yourself to-morrow?" - -"Do you mean that you would marry me off within the next twelve hours?" - -"No, you young stupid." - -"Oh, well, I want to look in at the Academy and a couple of clubs, and -in the evening I'm going to dine with the Durands senior, and do a -theatre afterwards with the Durands junior." - -"Oh!—Mary and her husband. Mary is a sensible woman. I want to talk to -her. Ask her to dine—say Thursday? Mary has her head screwed on the -right way. I shall consult her about you, Master Gilbert. I'll see what -she advises about you. She shall help me to put the noose round your -neck." - -"The _noose_, indeed," repeated his son in a tone of melancholy sarcasm. - -"Yes, yes, I'll settle it all with Mary." So saying, the old gentleman -went chuckling from the room in a high state of jubilation. - -The next afternoon Gilbert Lisle formed one of a crowd who were -collected before a certain popular picture at the Royal Academy; but -so far his view had been entirely obscured by the broad back of a -gentleman in front of him; it vaguely occurred to him that there was -something rather familiar in the shape of those broad, selfish-looking -shoulders, when their owner suddenly turned round, and he found himself -face to face with James Quentin. - -"By Jove, old fellow!" exclaimed the latter, shaking his hand -vigorously, "this _is_ a pleasant surprise; and so you have returned -from your travels—where do you hail from last?" - -"Only New York; I arrived two days ago, and feel as if I had been away -for ten years, I'm so out of everything and behind the times,—a second -Rip Van Winkle." - -"Then I suppose you have not heard _my_ little bit of news?" - -"No—o—but I fancy I can guess it, it's not a very difficult -riddle—you are married!" - -"Right you are! a second Daniel! Come away and speak to Mrs. Q., she -will be delighted to see you." - -Gilbert had not bargained for this—he would much rather never meet -Helen Denis again; however, there was no resisting Apollo's summons, -and in another moment he was standing before a velvet settee, and ere -he was aware of it, his companion was saying, "Jane, my love, let me -present an old friend—Mr. Lisle, Mrs. Quentin." - -He glanced down, and saw a magnificently-attired, massive-looking dame, -over whose head fully forty summers had flown; she was smiling up at -him most graciously, and holding out a well-gloved hand—this lady was -indisputably Mrs. Quentin—but where was Helen Denis? - -Her new acquaintance made a gallant struggle to master his amazement, -and to utter a few bald, commonplace remarks about the heat and the -pictures; and presently suffered himself to be borne onward by the -crowd. But Jim Quentin was not going to lose sight of him thus. He had -married a wife considerably beneath him in birth, and it behoved him to -keep a fast hold of his well-born friends, and a secure footing on the -social ladder. - -Lisle was a popular man; he had discovered this fact on his return to -England, and had made considerable capital out of his name in various -ways. It had proved to be an open sesame to a rather exclusive circle, -who cordially welcomed Apollo when they heard that he and Gilbert Lisle -were "like brothers," and had lived under the same roof for months. -Lisle had been useful at Port Blair, and he would be useful in London. - -"Well, were you surprised to find that there was a Mrs. Quentin?" he -asked, as he came up with his quarry in a comparatively empty room, -chiefly devoted to the display of etchings on large stands and easels. - -"No, of course not—but," looking him steadily in the face, "she is not -the lady I expected to see." - -"What!" then all of a sudden he remembered Helen—Helen, who had been -completely swept out of his mind by a twelvemonth of busy intrigues, -and such exciting pursuits as fortune-hunting, tuft-hunting, and -place-hunting. "Oh! to be sure, you were thinking of Miss Denis, but -that did not come off, you see," he added with careless effrontery. -"She was all very well—_pour passer le temps_—in an ungodly hole like -the Andamans, but, by George! England is quite another affair." - -"Is it—and why?" inquired his listener, rather grimly. - -"Oh! my dear fellow, she has not a rap—she was literally -penniless—when her father died, she was destitute." - -"But you always understood that she had no fortune." - -"Yes, but when I came to look at it, I saw that it would never do. -I had next to nothing; she had nothing at all; one cannot live on -love, and I don't think I was ever really serious. I did you a good -turn though; _you_ were rather inclined to make a fool of yourself in -that quarter," administering a playful poke in the ribs, and grinning -significantly. - -But the grin on his face faded somewhat suddenly as he encountered a -look in his companion's eyes that made him feel curiously uncomfortable. - -"Where is she now?" inquired Lisle, speaking in a low, repressed sort -of tone. - -"'Pon my honour, I can't tell you! I believe she has gone out as -governess—best thing she could do, you know; better than marrying a -poor devil like me," he added apologetically. "She was a nice enough -little girl, and she had not half a bad time of it in the Andamans. I -daresay she'll pick up some fellow at home. Look here, old chappie," -button-holeing him as he spoke, "this is my card and address; now, -what day will you come and dine? Got a tip-top cook,—not that you -ever _were_ particular,—my wife has pots of money, and we give rather -swagger entertainments. Whatever day will suit you will suit me; you -have only to say the word." - -"I have only to say the word, have I!" cried Gilbert, suddenly blazing -into passion; "then I say that you are a scoundrel, Mr. Quentin. I say -that you have behaved like one to that girl, that's what _I_ say." - -Apollo recoiled precipitately. He did not like the angry light in his -old friend's face, nor the manner in which he grasped his cane. - -"You jilted her, on your own showing, in the most deliberate, -cold-blooded manner. Jilted her because you were tired of a passing -fancy, and she was left, as you say, penniless and destitute. She may -thank her stars for a lucky escape! Better she should beg her bread -than be the wife of a cur like you! There's your card," tearing it into -pieces and scattering it on the floor. "In my opinion you should be -kicked out of decent society, and turned out of every respectable club -in London. I beg that, for the future, you will be good enough to give -_me_ a wide berth," and with a nod of unspeakable contempt he turned -and walked away, leaving his foe absolutely speechless with rage and -amazement. - -Underneath these mixed feelings lay a smouldering conviction that -Lisle, for all his customary _nonchalance_, could be as bitter and -unsparing an enemy as he had been a generous and useful friend. -Pleasant, stately houses would close—nay, slam their doors on him at a -hint from Lisle, and if the story got about the clubs, and was looked -at from Lisle's point of view,—it would be the very deuce! In his -exaltation he had somewhat forgotten the _rôle_ he formerly played -with his fellow inmate,—and we know that to a liar a good memory is -indispensable,—he had spoken rashly and foolishly with his lips, and -had been thus summarily condemned out of his own mouth! Alas! alas! he -already saw his circle of well-beloved, titled friends narrowing to -vanishing point, as he now recalled a veiled threat uttered by the very -man who had just denounced him! On the whole, Mr. Quentin thought that -his little comedy with Miss Denis would prove an expensive performance, -and he returned to his wealthy partner, feeling very much like a beaten -hound. - - * * * * * - -That evening, as Gilbert Lisle drove up to the door of Mrs. Durand's -mansion, he said to himself, "Here I come to the very house of all -others where I am most likely to hear the sequel to that rascal's -story. Mrs. Durand is safe to know all about Helen Denis,—and if she -is the woman I take her to be, she won't be long before I know as much -as she does herself! I shall say nothing—I shall not ask a single -question about the young lady; not, indeed, that it personally concerns -me whether she is on the parish or not. Still, I should like to hear -what has become of her." - -(He made these resolutions as he entered, and passed upstairs, and -presented himself in the drawing-room.) - -Strange to say, Mrs. Charles Durand had arrived at a precisely similar -determination with regard to him. Hitherto they had only exchanged -a few hasty words, had no opportunity of raking up "old days," but -to-night it would be different; "At dinner he is sure to make some -allusion to Port Blair, and her name will come on the _tapis_, -and I can easily judge by his looks, if there was anything in my -suspicions—and very strong suspicions they were! However, I won't be -the first to break the ice; as far as Helen is concerned—I shall be -dumb." - -Thus Mrs. Durand to her own reflection in the mirror, as she attired -herself for the evening. - -Here were two people about to meet, each resolved to be silent, and -each determined to hear the other's disclosures on an intensely -interesting subject. As is usual in such cases, the lady yielded first; -her opponent was habitually reserved, and it came as second nature -to him to wait and to hold his peace. He had one false alarm during -dinner, when his former playmate, addressing him across the table, -said, with her brightest air,— - -"I saw a particular friend of _yours_ to-day; who do you think it was?" - -"I have so many particular friends," he replied, "that's rather a large -order." - -"Well, a _lady_ friend." - -"A lady friend! They are not much in my way." - -"A lady you knew in the Andamans," looking at him keenly. - -He cast a quick, questioning glance at her, but remained otherwise -dumb, and she, smiling at her own little _ruse_, said,— - -"In short, our well-beloved Mrs. Creery! She was driving in the park, -in a dreadful yellow affair, like an omnibus cut down, along with -another remarkable old person. She was delighted to see me, and hailed -me as if I had been a long-lost child!" - -Mrs. Durand smiled to herself again. She was thinking of the battle -royal she had fought with Mrs. Creery over the reputation of the very -gentleman who was now her _vis-à-vis_. - -"She asked me particularly for you, and sent you a message—I'm not -sure that it was not her _love_—and told me to be sure and tell you -that Monday is her day." - -"I really don't see any connection between Mrs. Creery's Mondays and -myself," coolly rejoined that lady's former _bête-noire_. And, with a -few general remarks about Port Blair, the monsoon, the sharks, and the -shells, the conversation drifted back to less out-of-the-way regions. - -The younger members of the party set out after dinner for the Savoy, to -see Gilbert and Sullivan's latest production. They consisted of Captain -and Mrs. Durand, two young lady cousins, a guardsman, and Mr. Lisle. -Mrs. Durand and the latter occupied the back seat in the box, and -discoursed of the piece, mutual friends, and mutual aversions, with a -scrupulous avoidance of the one topic nearest their hearts. - -At last, the lady could stand it no longer; and, during the interval -after the first act, she turned to her companion, and said rather -sharply, "You remember Miss Denis?" - -"Miss Denis—oh, yes! of course I do!" - -"Those are her cousins in the box next the stage—those girls in pink." - -"Is she living with them?" - -"Oh dear no! She stayed a month or two on her first arrival, and, -by all accounts, they led her the life of a modern Cinderella, and -afterwards turned her off to earn her bread as a governess." - -"Indeed!" he ejaculated, with such stoical indifference that Mrs. -Durand felt that she could have shaken him. But, after a moment's -silence, he added, "I always thought she had married Quentin—until -to-day." - -"Oh, nonsense! You are not really serious! Of course you are aware that -your friend, Apollo, has espoused a widow with quantities of money in -the oil trade." - -"Pray do not call him _my_ friend; I am not at all anxious to claim -that honour," he rejoined stiffly. - -"Then you have been quarrelling, I suppose. I wonder if it was about -the usual thing—one of my sex?" - -"It was. I may say as much to _you_. In fact it was about Miss -Denis—he treated her shamefully." - -"What makes you think so?"—opening her eyes very wide, and shutting up -her fan. - -"Because he was engaged to her at Port Blair. He told me so. And when -she was left penniless, he jilted her for this rich widow." - -"He told you that he was engaged to Helen? Oh," drawing a long breath, -"never!" - -"Yes, and showed me a ring she had given him." - -"Again I say, never, never, _never_!" - -"My dear Mrs. Durand, there is no good in saying, never, never, never, -like that. The ring he exhibited, was one that I had given Miss Denis -myself!" - -"Oh, sets the wind in that quarter!" mentally exclaimed the matron; "I -thought as much." But aloud she replied, "Was it a curious old ring, -without any stones, that was stolen from her the night of the ball?" - -"It was the ring you describe. But it was not stolen, for she gave -it to Quentin when he went to the Nicobars as a '_gage d'amour_.' I -expected that he would have married her as soon as possible after her -father's death; indeed, I understood that he was returning from Camorta -with that intention. But you see I have been so completely out of the -world, that I heard nothing further till I met Quentin and his wife -at the Academy to-day; and he calmly informed me that he had never -seriously contemplated marrying Miss Denis, and that the Andamans and -London are quite a different pair of shoes! Pray, do you call that -honourable conduct?" - -"You are quite, quite wrong!" cried Mrs. Durand, excitedly. "Now you -have said your say, it is my turn to speak; and speak I will," she -added with a gleam of determination in her eye. - -"Oh, certainly!" returned her listener, with rather dry politeness. - -"Helen was, and is, a particular friend of mine, and I happen to _know_ -that she could not endure Apollo Quentin! She did not even think him -good-looking! and he bored her to death. He stuck to her like burr, and -she could not shake him off. She would ten times rather have talked -to Captain Rodney, or Mr. Green,—or even to _you_! She was no more -engaged to him than I was. She never gave him that ring."—Here her -listener stirred, and made a gesture of impatient protestation.—"That -ring was _stolen_, and sold for twenty rupees," concluded Mrs. Durand, -in her most forcible manner. - -"Stolen—sold!" he echoed, turning towards her so suddenly that it made -her start. "Is this true?" - -"_True?_" she repeated indignantly. - -"I do not mean to doubt you for one second; but you may have been -deceived." - -"At any rate, I had the benefit of my _own_ eyes and ears. They do not -often mislead me." - -"Then how——" - -"If you will only have patience you shall hear all. Helen stayed with -me for the last week at Port Blair; and the night before she sailed, -when I went into her room I discovered Fatima grovelling on the ground -at her feet, and holding the hem of her dress, and whining,—'A—ma! -A—ma!' in true native fashion. 'I very bad woman, Missy,' she was -saying; 'and I very sorry _now_. I stealing jewels—why for I sent -here? And now I done take, Missy's ring and sell for twenty rupees.'" - -"Sold it! To whom?" interrupted Mr. Lisle, his dark face flushing to -his temples. - -"_That_ she refused to divulge. All we could prevail on her to confess -was, that she had taken it the night of the ball, and that she did -not think it was of any value; but seeing how much trouble Missy was -in,—and Missy going away to England, she was plenty sorry." - -"Stolen the night of the ball—sold for twenty rupees, and Quentin -showed it to me the next morning!" exclaimed Lisle. - -After this summing up, he and Mrs. Durand looked at each other for -about twenty seconds, in dead silence. - -"Where is Miss Denis now?" he inquired in a kind of husky whisper. - -"I wish I could tell you! I'm a miserable correspondent; I never -answered her last letter, written from a school at Kensington. I would -rather walk two miles than write two pages. It's very sad, and gets -me into great disgrace. But though I do not write, I don't _forget_ -people. As soon as I arrived at home I went off to this school to see -Helen, and to make my peace." - -"Yes?" - -"The house was all shut up, blinds down in every window, the cook in -sole charge, every one else away for the holidays. The cook only showed -half her face through the door, and was not at all inclined to be -communicative; but I gave her something to help her memory, and then -she recollected, that six weeks before the school broke up, the English -governess had gone away sick, but she understood that she had not left -for good.—School opens again on the 1st of September," added Mrs. -Durand significantly. - -"Meanwhile, where is she?" - -"That is more than I can say." - -"Perhaps her cousins would tell you," glancing over at the Miss Platts. - -"Not they—if they did know, I doubt if they would inform you, as they -are even more disagreeable than they look,—and that is saying much. -However, I shall get a friend to sound them about their cousin. I -believe they treated her like a servant, and made her carry parcels, -run messages, mend their clothes, and button their boots!" - -"How did you hear this? from Miss Denis?" - -"She never named them. I'm afraid to tell you, lest you should think me -a second Mrs. Creery." - -"No fear—there could be but _one_ Mrs. Creery—she is matchless." - -"Well, my sister's maid, Plunket—now really this is downright -gossip—came to her from the Platts, and one day we were talking about -fine heads of hair, and she described the beautiful hair of a poor -young lady in her last place,—Mrs. Platt's niece, Miss Denis; and so -it all came out, for of course I pricked up my ears when I heard her -name." - -During this conversation the curtain had risen on the second act, and -the entire audience was convulsed with delight at one of Grossmith's -songs, and yet these two talked on, and never once cast their eyes -to the stage. Indeed, Mrs. Durand had almost turned her back on the -actors, and was wholly engrossed in an interesting little drama in -private life. The other occupants of the box were in ecstasies with -the performers, and Captain Durand, after gasping and wiping his eyes, -turned to his wife impatiently, and said,— - -"Well, really, Mary, you might just as well have stayed at home, and -talked there; you have done nothing but gossip. I thought you were wild -to see this piece. If you are so bored yourself, you might at least -give Lisle a chance of enjoying it!" - -"Charley says I must not go on chattering any longer, distracting -your attention from the play. We can finish our conversation another -time."—So saying, she took up her opera glass, and addressed herself -seriously to the performance. - -As for Gilbert Lisle, he leant back in his chair, and also fixed his -eyes on the stage, but he saw absolutely nothing. If he had been asked -to describe a character, a scene, or a song, he could not have done so -to save his life. His mind was in a state of extraordinary confusion; -he was dazed, overwhelmed, at the situation in which he found himself. - -So he had been the dupe, and tool, of Quentin from first to last! It -seemed incredible, that Quentin, to gain a momentary empty triumph, -had stooped to theft, in order to bolster up a lie, and maintain his -reputation as a lady-killer. Then as for Miss Denis,—if she had not -been engaged to Quentin, and had never parted with the ring, what must -she think of him? He held his breath at this poignant reflection. If -any one had jilted her,—if any one had behaved vilely, if any one -was a dishonoured traitor, it was he—Gilbert Lisle—sitting there -staring stupidly before him, surrounded by ignorant and confiding -friends, who believed him to be a gentleman, and a man of honour! As -he cast his eyes over a mental picture, and saw himself, as he must -appear to Helen, he was consumed by a fever of shame, that seemed to -devour him. To live under the imputation of such conduct, was torture -of the most exquisite description to a man of his temperament;—who -had such a delicate sense of personal honour, and such chivalrous -reverence for other people's veracity, that he had fallen an easy prey -to an unscrupulous brazen-tongued adventurer, like James Quentin. -Fury against Quentin, restored faith in his lost _fiancée_, were -all secondary to one scorching thought, that seemed to burn his -very brain—the thought of the disgrace that lay upon his hitherto -unblemished name. To have sworn to return to a girl,—to have vowed -to make her his wife,—and to have miserably deserted her, without -message, or excuse,—left her to bear the buffets of adversity as best -she could,—to earn her own living, or to eat the bread of charity, was -maddening—maddening. He must get out of the theatre into the open air; -but first he leant over Mrs. Durand's chair, and spoke to her in a few -broken and imperfect sentences. - -"What you have told me to-night, has a significance that you cannot -guess" (oh, could she not?) "It alters—it may alter—the whole -course of my life. Mrs. Durand—Mary! you were always my friend, be -my friend now. When you get her address, and you will get it—you -_must_ get it,—to-night, to-morrow—you will give it to me in the same -hour—promise." - -"Why should I promise?" she asked playfully, delighted to see the -immovable Gilbert for once a prey to some powerful emotion. - -He was pale—his very lips were trembling, big beads of perspiration -stood upon his temples. - -"Why should I tell you especially?"—she repeated, but looking in his -face, she saw that he was too terribly in earnest to be in the mood for -light badinage. Looking in his face, she read the answer. - -"I _see_,—yes, you may depend on me." - -Reassured by this pledge, he grasped her hand in silence, and rose -to leave the box. But ere he departed, she turned her head over her -shoulder, and murmured behind her fan, "I believe it is all going to -come right at last.—And, Gilbert," lowering her voice to a whisper, "I -always suspected that it was _you_." - -"What's the matter? What has become of Lisle?" inquired her husband, -looking sharply round as he heard the door close. "Where is he? Why has -he gone away?" - -"He was not in the mood for light comedy, my dear. He has just heard -something of far more powerful interest than 'The Silver Churn,'" -nodding her head impressively. "You remember a bet you made about him -and Helen Denis, one evening in the Andamans?" - -"I don't remember any bet—but I know you had some impossible idea in -your head." - -"Then _I_ recollect the wager—distinctly—a new bonnet. And my idea -may seem impossible, but it is true. It was _not_ that odious puppy, -Apollo Quentin, who was in love with Helen, it was,—as I repeatedly -told you,—Gilbert Lisle. So to-morrow, my good Charles, I shall go -to Louise's and invest—at your expense—in the smartest bonnet in -London." - - - - -CHAPTER XXX. - -FINNIGAN'S MARE. - - "I do not set my life at a pin's fee."—_Hamlet._ - - -HELEN'S preparations for departure were rapidly accomplished; she -had no voluminous wardrobe to pack, no circle of farewell visits to -pay. Moreover, she was possessed by a feverish desire to escape, as -far as possible, from maddening pianos, piles of uncorrected exercise -books, and the summons of the inexorable school bell. She set out for -Crowmore on the appointed date, with a delightful sense of recovered -freedom, but—as far as her unknown relatives were concerned—strictly -moderate expectations. Precisely a week after she had received her -uncle's invitation, behold her rumbling across dear, dirty Dublin, in -a dilapidated four-wheeler, drawn by a lame horse—her tender heart -would not suffer her to expostulate with the driver on their snail's -pace, and as the result of her benevolence, she missed her train by -five minutes, and had the satisfaction of spending a long morning, in -contemplating the advertisements in the Broadstone terminus! At length, -after four hours' leisurely travelling, she was deposited at a shed -labelled "Bansha," the nearest station to Crowmore. Bag in hand, she -stepped down on the platform and looked about her; she was apparently -the only passenger for that part of the world, and there was no one -to be seen, except a few countrymen lounging round the entrance—the -invariable policeman, and one porter. She gazed about anxiously, as the -train steamed slowly away, and discovered that she was the cynosure of -every eye, save the porter's, and he was engrossed in spelling out the -address on her trunk. - -"You'll be for the Castle, miss?" he remarked at last, straightening -his back as he spoke. - -"No, for Crowmore, Mr. Sheridan's," she replied, walking out through -the station-house over into the station entrance, in the vague hopes of -finding some conveyance awaiting her, and her baggage—but all that met -her anxious eyes was a little knot of countrymen, who were gossiping -round a rough rider, on a heavy-looking brown colt. - -"Shure, Mr. Sheridan's and the Castle is all wan, miss," said the -porter, who accompanied her, carrying her bag. "The young ladies wor -here this morning, in a machine from Terryscreen, they expected you on -the twelve,—and when you were not on that, they made sure you were -coming to-morrow—they'll be here thin." - -This was but cold comfort to Helen. "How far is it to Crowmore?" she -asked. - -"Well, it's a matter of in or about six mile." - -"And how am I to get there?" - -"Faix, I don't rightly know! unless Larry Flood gives you a lift on -the mail; ayther that, or you could get an asses' car up the street," -indicating a double row of thatched cottages in the distance. - -"And when do you think Larry Flood will be here?" inquired the young -stranger—ignoring his other humiliating suggestion. - -"Troth, an' it would be hard to say!—it entirely depends on the humour -he's in—he calls for the letters," pointing to a bag in the doorway, -"just as he takes the notion, sometimes he is here at five o'clock, and -betimes I've known him call at one in the morning!" - -A sudden interruption made him turn his head, and he added, with -a triumphant slap of his corduroy leg, "Begorra, you are in luck, -Miss,—for here he is now!" - -As he spoke, a red outside car, drawn by a wild-looking chestnut, -wearing a white canvas collar, and little or no harness, came tearing -into the station, amidst a cloud of dust. The driver was a wiry little -man, with twinkling eyes, that looked as if they were never closed, a -protruding under-lip, and an extravagantly wide mouth. He was dressed -in a good suit of dark tweed, and wore a green tie, and a white caubeen. - -"What's this ye have with ye, the day, Larry?" demanded one of the -idlers, as he narrowly examined the animal between the shafts. "May -I never," he added, recoiling a step backwards, and speaking in an -awe-struck tone; "if it isn't Finnigan's mare!" - -"The divil a less!" rejoined Larry, complacently. "Finnigan could get -no good of her, and the old brown was nearly bet up. I'll go bail -she'll travel for _me_," he added, getting off the car as he spoke, and -giving the collar a hitch. - -But this proud boast was received in ominous silence, and all eyes -were now riveted on Mr. Flood's recent purchase—a white-legged, -malicious-looking, thorough-bred—that was seemingly not unknown to -fame. - -"Well," said a man in a blue-tail coat, after a significantly long -pause; "it's not that she won't travel for ye, there's no fear of -_that_, I hope you may get some good of her, for she's a great mare -entirely—but she takes a power of humouring." - -"Shure she knocked Finnigan's new spring car to smithereens ere last -week," put in the rider of the coarse-looking brown colt, "not a bit of -it was together, but the wheels, and left Finnigan himself for dead on -the road. Humouring, how are ye?" he concluded, with a kind of scornful -snort. - -"You got her chape, I'll engage, Larry, me darlin'," remarked another -of the idlers. - -"Faix, and I paid enough for her," returned her owner stoutly. "It -isent every wan that would sit over her! she does be a bit unaisy in -herself betimes" (a delicate allusion to her well-known habits of -kicking and bolting). "Howd-somever, she's a grand goer, and I bought -her designedly on purpose for the post.—'Tis _she_ can knock fire out -of the road." - -"Oh! them sprigs of shellelagh can all do that," acquiesced a -bystander, who had hitherto observed a benevolent neutrality; "but they -does be dangerous bastes." - -"What's that you have there, Tom?" inquired Larry, looking at the rough -rider. - -"Oh! a terrible fine colt of Mr. Murphy's—I'm just handling him a bit, -before the next cub-hunting." - -"He is a great plan of a horse," said the man in the blue coat, -speaking with an air of authority, and his hands tucked under his long -swallow-tails. - -"Look at the shoulder on him!" exclaimed a third connoisseur. - -All this was by no means agreeable to Mr. Flood, considering the tepid -praise bestowed on his own purchase. - -"What do you think of her, Larry?" inquired the rider. "Come now, give -us your opinion?" he added in a bantering tone. - -"Well, I think," said Larry, gladly seizing this opportunity to pay -off Tom, the horsebreaker, and eyeing the animal with an air of solemn -scrutiny. "Well, now, I'll just tell ye exactly what I think—I thinks -he looks _lonely_." - -"Arrah, will ye spake English!" cried his rider indignantly; "shure, -lonely has no meaning at all—nor no sinse." - -"I just mane what I say—he has a lonely look," and with a perceptible -pause, and a wink to the audience, he added, "for the want of a plough -behind him!" - -At this joke there was a roar of laughter from all, save Tom, the -horse-trainer, who glared at Larry in a ferocious manner that was -really fearful to witness, but Larry, nothing daunted, turned to the -porter with an off-hand air, and said,— - -"Anything for me, Pat?" - -"Nothing at all—barrin' the mails—and this young lady! I'm after -telling her, you'll lave her at the gate. She's going to the Castle, -only"—approaching nearer, and whispering behind his hand, with a -significant glance at Finnigan's mare. - -"Oh, the sorra a fear!" rejoined Larry, loudly, and then addressing -Helen, he said,— - -"Up ye git, miss, and I'll rowl ye there as safe as if ye were in a -sate in church." - -It was all very well to say "Up ye git," but, in the first place, -there was no step to the car, and in the second, it is by no means an -easy feat, to climb on any vehicle when in motion, and Larry's rampant -investment kept giving sudden bounds and playful little prancings, that -showed her impatience to be once more on the road. However, by dint -of being held forcibly down by the united strength of two men, she -consented to give the lady passenger an opportunity of scrambling up on -the jarvey, and Larry, having produced a horse-sheet (with a strong -bouquet of the stable), wrapped it carefully about her knees—then -mounting on the other side of the vehicle himself, he laid hold of the -reins, and with a screech to his friends to "give her her head,"—they -were off, as if starting for a flat race—accompanied by a shout of -"Mind yourself, miss," from the friendly porter, and "Safe home, -Larry," from the little knot of spectators, who were gathered round the -station door. - -At first, all the "So-hoing" and "Easy now, my girl," might just as -well have been addressed to the hard flint road, along which they were -rattling. The "girl" kept up what is known as "a strong canter" for -the best part of a mile, and Helen's whole energies were devoted to -clinging on with both hands, as the light post-car swung from side to -side with alarming velocity. - -"You need not be the laste taste unaisy, she's only a bit fresh in -herself," said Larry, soothingly, "and after a while when she settles -down, you'll be delighted with the way she takes hould of the road." - -A very stiff hill moderated the pace, and Finnigan's mare, subsided -perforce into a slashing trot, and "took hold of the road" as if she -were in a passion with it, and would like to hammer it to pieces with -her hoofs. And now at last Helen ventured to release one hand, and -look about her; she was struck with the bright, rich verdure of the -surrounding scenery—Ireland was well named "The Emerald Isle," she -said to herself, as her eyes travelled over a wide expanse of grass, -thick hedges powdered with hawthorn, and neighbouring green hills, -seemingly patched with golden gorse. Very few houses were visible, no -sign of towns or smoky chimneys were to be descried—this was the real -unadulterated country, and she drew a long breath of satisfaction, -due to a sense of refreshment, and relief. Now and then they passed -a big empty place, with shuttered windows; now a prosperous-looking -farm, with ricks and slated out-buildings, and now a roadside mud -cabin. Finnigan's mare, dashing madly through poultry, pigs, goats, and -such sleeping creatures as might be imprudently taking forty winks, -in the middle of the little-used highway—which highway, with its -overhanging ash-trees, tangled hedges, and wide grass borders, was the -prettiest and greenest that Larry's passenger had ever beheld—this -much she imparted to him, and he being ripe for conversation, -immediately launched forth with the following extraordinary -announcement:— - -"Och, but if ye had seen these roads before they were made! 'tis then -ye _might_ be talkin'! There was no ways of getting about in ould -times—no play for a free-going one like this," nodding exultingly at -the chestnut, who was flying down hill at a pace that made the post-car -literally bound off the ground. "She's going illigant now—these -chestnuts does mostly be a bit 'hot'—but where would ye see a better -traveller on all the walls of the worruld?" - -"She is not quite trained, is she?" - -"Well, not to say all _out_," he admitted reluctantly; "she's had the -harness on her about a dozen times, and she never did no harm—beyond -the day she ran away at Dan Clancy's funeral, and broke up a couple of -cars; and 'twas Finnigan himself was in fault—he'd had a drop. Shure, -she's going now like a ladies' pony! Maybe you'd like to take the reins -in your hands yourself, miss, and just _feel_ her mouth?" - -But Helen, casting her eyes over the long, raking animal in front of -her, and observing her starting eyes, quivering ears, and tightly -tucked-in tail, had no difficulty in resisting Larry's alluring offer. -Little did she know the vast honour she was rejecting. Larry (like -most Irishmen) was not insensible to a pretty face, and rating this -young lady's courage beyond its deserts—owing to her equanimity during -their recent gallop, and the tenacity of her hold upon the jaunting -car—paid her the greatest compliment in his power, when he offered -her the office of Jehu. Helen having politely but firmly, declined -the reins, breathed an inward wish that the animal who had behaved -so mischievously at Dan Clancy's funeral, would continue her present -sober frame of mind until she was deposited at the gates of Crowmore. -And now Larry began to play the cicerone, and commenced to point out -various objects of interest, with the end of his whip, and the zest of -a native. - -"That's Nancy's Cover," he said, indicating a patch of gorse. -"There does be a brace of foxes in it every season—that ditch -beyond,—running along in company with the cover, as far as your eye -will carry you,—goes by the name of 'Gilbert's Gripe,' because it -was there—a nephew of Mr. Redmond's I think he was, in the horse -soldiers—pounded every other mother's son in the field! Be jabers, I -never saw such a lep! and the harse—the very same breed of this mare -here—he never laid an iron to it! That's Mr. Redmond's place, in the -trees beyond, and beyant again is the Castle. What relation did ye say -ye wor to Mr. Sheridan?" - -Helen was not aware that she had mentioned Mr. Sheridan at all, but she -replied,— - -"His niece—his wife's niece." - -"You never saw him, I'll go bail?" - -"No, never; but why do you think so?" - -"Troth, and 'tis easy known, if you _had_, you would not be wanting to -see him twice." - -Larry grinned from ear to ear, but Helen's heart sank like lead, at -this depressing piece of intelligence. - -"He is greatly failed since he buried the mistress," continued Mr. -Flood. "He is a poor innocent creature now, and harmless; he does be -always inventing weathercocks, and kites, and such-like trash, when he -ought to be looking after the place. Miss Dido does that; oh, she's a -clever wan. Just a raal trate of a young lady!" - -"Do you mean that she manages the farm?" - -"Troth, and who else? 'tisen't the poor simple ould gentleman—the Lord -spare him what senses he _has_—for he would make a very ugly madman! -Miss Dido minds the books, and the business, and the garden, and the -money—not that there's much of that to trouble her—and Darby Chute, a -man that lives at the 'Cross,' buys and sells a few little bastes for -her, and sees to the turf-cutting and the grazing. The shootin's all -let—a power of the land too. What the ould man does with the rent of -it, bates all." - -"I suppose Darby Chute is a faithful old family servant?" said Helen, -her mind recurring to the ancient retainers of fiction. - -"Bedad, he is _ould_ enough! but I would not answer for more than that; -he is Chute by name, and 'cute by nature, _I'm_ thinking! Mr. Sheridan -has a warm side to him, and laves him great freedom.—The ould steward -that died a few years back, was a desperate loss. Now _he_ was a really -valuable man; 'tis since then they have Darby, who was only a ploughman -before. I'm sorry for the two young ladies; they go about among the -people, so humble and so nice, as if they had not a shilling in the -world—and more betoken they haven't many.—I wish to the Lord they -were married! but they are out of the way of providence here,—there's -no quality at all, this side. They do say, young Barry Sheridan does be -entirely taken up with Miss Kate; but he's the only wan that's in it, -and no great shakes ayther; and in _my_ opinion——" - -"Is there no one living over there?" interrupted his listener, averse -to such disclosures, and pointing to a long line of woods on the -horizon. - -"Shure, diden't I tell you that it was all Mr. Redmond's, of -Ballyredmond?—The old people does be there, and an English young lady -betimes, she is mighty plain about the head. I never heard them put -a name on her," then in quite an altered tone, he added, excitedly, -"By the powers of Moll Kelly, but I see the Corelish post-car, there -ahead of us in the straight bit of road. Do you notice him, miss? -the weenchie little speck. I do mostly race him to the Cross of Cara -Chapel, where our roads part, and I'm thinking I've the legs of him -this time! Altho' he has the old piebald, and a big start; we will just -slip down by the short cut through the bog, and nail him neatly at the -corner!" - -At first this announcement was Greek to his fare,—but she began to -comprehend what he meant, as he turned sharply into a bye-way, or -boreen, and started his only _too_ willing steed at a brisk canter! - -"There's Cara Chapel," he said, indicating a slated building on the -edge of a vast expanse of bog. "You'll see how illegantly we will -disappoint him; he is on the upper road, and that puts a good mile on -him. It will be worth your while to watch his face, as we give him -the go-by, and finds we have bested him after all!!! Do you get the -smell of them hawthorns, miss? they are coming out beautiful," (as -they careered along a narrow, grassy, boreen, between a forest of -may-bushes, white with flower.) "And now here's the bog," he added, -proudly, as the boreen suddenly turned into a cart track, running -like a causeway through a wide extent of peat and heath, that lay far -beneath on either side, without the smallest fence, or protection. -It was an exceedingly awkward, dangerous-looking place, and they -were entirely at the mercy of Finnigan's mare, who rattled joyously -along, pricking her dainty ears to and fro, as if she was on the _qui -vive_ for the smallest excuse to shy, and bolt—and the pretext was -not wanting! An idle jackass, in the bog below, suddenly lifted up -his voice, and brayed a bray so startlingly near, and so piercingly -shrill, that even Helen was appalled; how much more the sensitive -creature between the shafts, who stopped for one second, thrust her -head well down between her fore-legs, wrenched the reins out of Larry's -hands,—and ran away! - -"Begorra, we are in for it now," he shouted. "Hould on by your -eyelashes, miss; we will just slip off quietly at the first corner. -Kape yourself calm! Bad scram to you for a red-haired divil" (to the -mare). "Bad luck to them for rotten ould reins," reins now represented -by two strips of leather, trailing in the dust. - -"Oh! murder, we are done!" he cried, as he beheld a heavily laden -turf-cart, drawn up right across the track. - -"Oh, holy Mary! she'll put us in the bog." - -The owner of the turf-cart was toiling up the bank with a final -creel on his back, when he beheld the runaways racing down upon his -devoted horse and kish. His loud execrations were idle as the little -evening breeze that was playing with the tops of the rushes and the -gorse—Finnigan's mare was already into them! With a loud crash and a -sound of splintering shafts a thousand sods of turf were sent flying -in every direction. Helen was shot off the car and landed neatly and -safely in a heap of bog-mould that luckily received her at the side -of the road; Larry also made a swift involuntary descent, but in a -twinkling had sprung to his feet and seized his horse's head, calling -out to his companion as she picked herself up,— - -"'Tis yourself that is the fine souple young lady, and not a hair the -worse; nayther is the mare, barrin' a couple of small cuts, and one of -the shafts is broke—faix, it _might_ have been sarious!" - -"Arrah, what sort of a driver are ye, at all?" shouted the owner of the -turf-cart, breathless with rage, and haste. "Oh, 'tis Larry Flood—an' -I might have known!" - -"And what call have you to be taking up the whole road?" retorted Larry -loudly. "The divil sweep you and your old turf kish, that was nearly -being the death of us!" - -"Ah! and sure wasen't she running away as hard as she could lay leg to -groun'?" - -"Well, and if she _was_; diden't she see you below in the bog, and take -you for a scarecrow? and small blame. Here, don't be botherin' me, Tim -Mooney, but lend a hand to rig up the machine, and the tackling." - -Thanks to the turf-cutter's generous assistance, in a very short time -Mr. Larry Flood was enabled to come forward and announce to his fare, -who had dusted her dress from bog-mould and taken a seat on a piece of -wood, that "he was ready, if _she_ was." - -The young lady accordingly rose, and followed him, and gravely -inspected the turn-out. The car was all down on one side still—the -result of a spring broken in the late collision—but the reins had been -knotted together, and the shaft was tied up with a piece of twine. - -"It will hould all right," said Larry, following her eyes. "Any way, it -will carry _your_ distance, I'll go bail." - -"Thank you; but I'm not going to try the experiment. I'm stiff enough -as it is; and one fall in the day is ample for the present." - -"Fall! What fall? Sure ye only jumped off the car. Diden't I see you -with me own two eyes? And 'tis yourself that has them nice and tight -under yow! and in elegant proportion!—Meaning your ankles, Miss,—and -no offence." - -"All the same I shall walk, fall or no fall," returned his late -passenger, with a scarlet face. - -"You are a good mile off it yet," expostulated Larry. "How will you get -there?" - -"On foot." - -"And your bag; is that going on foot as well?" - -"Perhaps you would leave it as you pass?" - -"Indeed, and I will! Of course you are only English, and what could ye -_expect_; but at the first go off you were as stout as any lady that -ever sat on a car." - -"Stout?" she echoed in supreme amazement. But perhaps in Ireland things -had different names. - -"I mane stout-hearted! and now, after all, you are going to walk. To -_walk_!" he reiterated with indescribable scorn. - -"Yes, and you will take the bag—_it_ has no neck to break." - -"To be sure, I'll lave it with pleasure; but——" and here he paused -rather significantly. - -"Of course I'll pay you," she said, fumbling for her purse. "How much?" - -"Oh, well, sure—nothing at all! I would not be charging the likes of -you. 'Twas an honour to drive such a beautiful young lady." - -"How much?" she repeated, with a little stamp of her foot. - -"Well, thin, miss, since you are so _detarmined_, we won't quarrel over -two half-crowns; and if you would like me to drink your health in the -_best_ that was going," rubbing his mouth expressively with the back of -his hand, "we will say six shillings." - -Helen immediately placed six shillings in his greedy palm. - -"Thank you kindly, my lady! and may you live seven years longer than -was intended for you. It's not _my_ fault that I did not lave you at -your journey's end, as Tim Moony will allow. There's the mare," waving -his hand towards the wicked-looking chestnut; "there's the machine," -indicating the battered car and twine-tied shaft; "and they are both -altogether and entirely at your service." - -Helen shook her head resolutely, and made no other reply. - -"Well, then, miss, as I see I can't _tempt_ ye, I suppose I may as well -be going; and I'll lave the bag inside the lodge. Keep on straight -after the Cross till you come to a pair of big gates—and there you -are." - -Having given these directions and ascended to the driving-seat, so as -to have what he called "a better purchase on the baste," Larry muttered -a parting benediction, lifted his caubeen, and drove furiously away. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXI. - -"CROWMORE CASTLE." - - "We have seen better days." - - -LARRY and Finnigan's mare were not long in dwindling into a little -speck in the distance; and when they had completely vanished Helen -set out to walk to Cara Cross, the goal of the post-car races. Once -there she had no difficulty in discovering the road to the left; -and a quarter of a mile brought two massive pillars into view, -each surmounted by a battered, wingless griffin. But there were no -gates—unless a stone wall and a gate were synonymous terms in Ireland. -Three feet of solid masonry completely barred the former entrance, and -said "no admittance" in the plainest language. Helen leant her elbows -on the coping-stones and gazed in amazement at the scene before her. -She saw a grassy track that had once been an avenue lined by a dense -thicket of straggling, neglected shrubs. To her right and left stood -the roofless shells of two gate lodges. On the step of one of them she -descried her bag; and only for this undeniable clue she would certainly -have walked on and sought the entrance to Crowmore elsewhere. Being (as -Larry had not failed to remark) an active, "souple" young lady, she -lost no time in getting over the wall and rejoining her property. As -she picked it up, she cast a somewhat timid glance into the interior -of the ruin and beheld a most dismal, melancholy-looking kitchen, with -the remains of ashes on the hearth; the roof and rugged rafters partly -open to the skies; hideous green stains disfiguring the walls, and the -floor carpeted with nettles and dockleaves. A bat came flickering out -of an inner chamber, which warned her that time was advancing and she -was _not_. So she hurriedly turned about and pursued the grass-grown -avenue, which presently became almost lost in the wide, surrounding -pasture. At first it ascended a gentle incline, over which numbers of -sheep were scattered; some, who were reposing in her very track, rose -reluctantly, and stared stolidly as she approached. On the top of the -hill she came upon a full view of the Castle, and was filled with a -sense of injury and disappointment at having been deceived by such a -high-sounding title. Certainly there _was_ a kind of square, old keep, -out of whose ivy-covered walls half-a-dozen large modern windows stared -with unabashed effrontery. But a great, vulgar, yellow house, with long -ears of chimneys, and a mean little porch, had evidently married the -venerable pile, and impudently appropriated its name. "Yes," murmured -Helen to herself, as she descended the hill, "uncle showed his sense -in calling it simply 'Crowmore;' a far more suitable name, judging by -the rookeries in the trees behind it and the flocks of crows—more -crows—who are returning home." - -An iron fence presently barred her further progress along the -almost obliterated avenue, and, keeping by the railings, she -arrived at a rusty gate leading into what might once have been a -pleasure-ground,—but was now a wilderness. Traces of walks were still -visible, and outlines of flower-beds could be distinguished—with a -little assistance from one's imagination—flower-beds, in which roses, -and fuchsias, and thistles, and ferns, were all alike strangled in -the cruel bonds of "Robin round the hedge." She passed a tumble-down -summer-house—a fitting pendant to the gate lodges—and some rustic -seats, literally on their last legs. Everywhere she looked, neglect and -decay stared her in the face. - -As she pushed her way through a thicket of shrubs, that nearly choked -a narrow foot-path, she observed a tall man, like a gamekeeper, -approaching from the opposite direction. He wore a peaked cap, drawn -far over his eyes, and a very long black beard, so that his face was -almost entirely concealed; he was dressed in a shabby shooting-coat, -and gaiters, and carried a bundle of netting on his back, and a stick -in his hand. As he stood aside, so as to permit her to pass, she had a -conviction—though she could not see his eyes—that he was scrutinizing -her closely; nay, more, that he halted to look after her,—as she -ceased to hear the onward tramp of his heavy, clumsy boots. Another two -minutes brought her to a little wicket, which opened on a well-kept -gravel drive, a complete contrast to the overgrown jungle which she -had just quitted. There was no one to be seen, not even a dog, though -a clean plate and a well-picked bone testified to a dog's recent -dinner. The hall door stood wide open (Irish fashion), but no knocker -was visible,—neither could she discover a bell. She waited on the -steps for some minutes in great perplexity, and gazed into a large, -cool, stone-paved hall, crossed here and there with paths of cocoa-nut -matting, lined with strange ancient sporting prints, and apparently -opening into half-a-dozen rooms. Not a sound was audible save the -bleating of the sheep, the cawing of the rooks, and the loud ticking -of a brazen-faced grandfather's clock, that immediately faced the -stranger. Suddenly a fresh young voice came through an open door, so -near that Helen gave a little nervous start; a fresh young voice with -an undeniable Irish accent, and this was what it said,— - -"Dido, Dido! do you want to _boil_ the mignonette, and all the -unfortunate flowers?" - -Emboldened by this sound, the new arrival rapped loudly on the door -with her knuckles, and the same melodious brogue called out,— - -"If that's you, Judy, no eggs to-day!" - -"'Deed then, Miss Katie," expostulated a somewhat aged and cracked -organ, "I'm not so sure of _that_.—We are rather tight in eggs, and -you were talking of a cake, when the young lady comes——" - -By this time the young lady had advanced to the threshold and looked -in. She beheld a large, shabby dining-room, with three long windows, -heavy old furniture, and faded hangings; a stout girl with fair curly -hair, sitting with her back to the door, knitting a sock; her slender -sister—presumably that Dido, who was working such destruction among -the flowers—was stooping over a green stand covered with plants, which -she was busily watering, with the contents of a small copper tea-urn; -and a little trim old woman, in a large frilled cap, was in the act -of removing the tea things. Helen's light footfall on the matting was -inaudible, and she had ample time to contemplate the scene, ere the -servant, who was just lifting the tray, laid it down and ejaculated,— - -"The Lord presarve us!" - -The girl with the tea-urn turned quickly round, and dropping her -impromptu watering-pot, cried,— - -"It's Helen, it must be cousin Helen!" running to her, and embracing -her. "You are as welcome as the flowers in May. This is Katie,—I'm -Dido.—We went to meet you in the morning by the twelve o'clock train; -how in the world did you get here?" - -All this poured out without stop, or comma, in a rich and rapid brogue. - -"I missed the early train and came on by the next. I got a seat on the -post-car, but the horse ran away and upset us, so I preferred to walk -to the end of my journey. I told the man, Larry ——, Larry ——" - -"Larry Flood, Miss," prompted the old woman eagerly. "A little ugly -sleveen of a fellow—with a lip on him, would trip a goat!" - -"Now, Biddy, how can you be so spiteful," remonstrated Katie, with a -laugh, "and all just because he wants to marry Sally." - -"That's the name—Larry Flood," continued Helen. "I told him I would -walk, and he left my bag at the—the gate." - -"Oh! so you came by the old avenue! and a nice way Larry treated you! -Just wait till I see him," said Dido. "How long were you at the door, -Helen?" - -"About five minutes." - -"And why on earth did you not come in?" - -"I was looking for the bell or the knocker," she answered rather -diffidently. - -"And you might have been looking for a week, my dear! They are -conspicuous by their absence. We don't stand on ceremony here; you -either hammer with a stone—there is one left on the steps for that -express purpose, only, of course, _you_ never guessed its use—or you -dispense with the stone, and walk in—the door stands open all day -long,—precisely as you see it." - -"But, of course, you shut it after dark?" - -"Yes, in a fashion; we put a chair against it just to keep the sheep -from coming in! The lock is broken—it was taken off weeks ago by Micky -the smith, and he has never brought it back yet. Now, I see you are -horrified, Helen!—but this is not London—there are no thieves or -housebreakers about, and we are as safe as if we had twenty locks and -bolts. Here, Biddy," to the old servant, "Miss Denis is starving; bring -up the cold fowl, and some more of those hot cakes, as fast as ever you -can. Helen, give me your hat and jacket, and sit down in this arm-chair -this minute, and relate every one of your adventures without delay." - -It was impossible to be shy with Dido and Katie; in a few moments their -cousin felt perfectly at home, and they were all holding animated -eager conversation, and talking together as if they had known each -other for weeks. Katie was an incessant chatter-box; no matter who was -speaking, her voice was sure to chime in also, and to keep up a running -accompaniment similar to the variations on a popular air! She was fair, -very plump, and rather pretty,—with the beauty of rosy cheeks, bright -eyes, and curly locks. Dido, the eldest, was tall, and graceful, with -a head and throat that would have served for a sculptor's model; she -had quantities of brown hair, and greenish-grey eyes. Without being -exactly handsome, she had a look of remarkable distinction, and as she -stood at the table busily carving a fowl for the delectation of her -hungry guest, that guest said to herself, that her cousin Dido, for all -her threadbare dress and washed-out red cotton pinafore, aye, and her -brogue,—had the air—of—yes—of a princess! - -"When shall I see uncle?" inquired his niece, with dutiful politeness. - -"Oh, the Padré never appears in the daytime," replied Katie, "and he -only goes out with the owls; but he will come down and welcome you, of -course. He is very much occupied just now,—and grudges every moment, -his time is _so_ precious." - -A grunt of scornful dissent from the old woman here attracted Katie's -notice, and once more resuming her knitting, and her chair, she said,— - -"Well, what's the matter now, Biddy, eh? Tell me, what do you think of -Miss Denis?" speaking precisely as if Miss Denis were a hundred miles -away. - -Biddy thus adjured, immediately laid down a plate, and resting her -hands on her hips, surveyed the new-comer as coolly and deliberately as -if she was a picture. - -"Shure, I'm no great judge, Miss Katie! but since you ax me,—I'll just -give ye me mind. I think she's a teetotally beautiful young lady,—and -that it would be no harm if there was twins of her!" - -Helen coloured and laughed, and Dido exclaimed, "Well, that's more than -you ever said of _me_, Biddy, and I'm your own nurse-child that you -reared ever since I was six months old—you never wished for twins of -_me_!" - -"Troth, and why would I? Many and many's the night that I lost me rest -along of you. Aye, but you wor the peevish little scaltheen! Wan of -_you_ was plenty!" - -"And you never called _me_ a teetotally beautiful young lady! I'm -offended." - -"Arrah, Miss Dido, sure you would not be askin' me to parjure myself!" -retorted Biddy, with some warmth. "Ye can see with your own two eyes, -that your cousin is a sight better-looking than ayther of yees; but you -are a lady all out! The Queen herself need not be ashamed to be seen -walkin' with ye! Sure, and aren't you cliver! and isn't that enough for -you? They don't go together, I'm thinking—great wit, and great looks!" - -"Biddy MacGravy," replied Dido, with great solemnity, "you started off -very nicely,—wishing Miss Helen was a twin—but now you have spoiled -everything! I really think you had better go before you say something -worse,—I really do." - -"And sure, and what did I say but what was the pure truth?" folding -her arms over her white apron, and evidently preparing to discuss the -subject exhaustively. - -"You have merely told her, that it was doubtful if she was a lady, and -that it was very certain that she was a fool." - -"Ah, now, Miss Dido!" in a tone of mournful reproach, "see, now, I -declare to goodness—Whist! here's the masther." And seizing the tray, -the nimble old woman vanished like a flash. - -"She is quite one of the family," explained Dido, "and says just what -she pleases. You would never imagine that she had been for years on the -Continent! She acquired nothing there, but the art of making cakes and -coffee——" - -"And paying compliments," amended Katie, with a giggle. - -At that moment the door opened slowly, and a tall, but bent, -white-headed gentleman entered the room. He had a noble head, a -cream-coloured beard, reaching almost to his waist, and sunken, -dark eyes, that looked out on the world abstractedly, from beneath -a penthouse of shaggy brows. His hands were long and thin, with -singularly claw-like fingers, through which he had a habit of drawing -the end of his beard, as he conversed. He was attired in an easy, grey -dressing-gown, a black skull-cap, and red list slippers. - -Helen rose as he approached and extended one of his long hands. His -dreamy eyes flashed into momentary life, as he said, in a curiously -slow, nasal voice,— - -"And this is my English niece! Niece, I am glad to see you, for your -own sake,—and for your father's.—He was a worthy brother to my wife. -I hope you will be happy here. By-the-way, how did you come?" - -Before Helen could open her lips, Katie, the irrepressible, had begun -to relate her recent experiences, as volubly as if she herself had been -a passenger by the Irish mail; not to mention the Terryscreen post-car! - -But long ere her recital had come to an end, her parent's thoughts were -miles away—presumably in the clouds. At length the sudden cessation of -the narrative, recalled him to the present once more, and speaking very -deliberately, he said,— - -"You must take us as you find us, niece. We live far beyond any sordid, -worldly circle, enjoying simple, domestic retirement, and a purely -rural life. Our wealth is that of the mind. In mundane substance we -are poor, but at any rate we can offer you _one_ thing, without -stint—accept a welcome." And with a wave of his hand, implying that he -had endowed Helen with some priceless treasure, and a bow signifying -that the interview was at an end, Mr. Sheridan glided noiselessly away, -leaving, as was his invariable wont, the door wide open behind him. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXII. - -BARRY'S GUESS. - - "O many a shaft at random sent, - Finds mark the archer little meant."—_Scott._ - - -THE following morning Helen was formally conducted round the premises -by her cousins. They explored the tangled shrubbery, the garden, and -the yard; the latter was empty—save for a clutch of chickens, and a -flock of voracious ducks,—and at least half the offices were minus -roofs and windows. - -"The whole place was tumbling down," explained Dido; "and as the Padré -could do nothing, Darby Chute said he might just as well make the best -of a bad job, and he took off the doors and rafters for fire-wood." - -"Yes, and Barry was _raging_," supplemented Katie. "Barry is papa's -heir.—He is our cousin, and lives a mile away on the Terryscreen road. -He says there won't be a stick or a stone left together before long. He -often comes over here. He declares the place is going to rack and ruin." - -Helen glanced at the range of yawning, roofless stables, and could -not help sharing in Mr. Barry's rueful anticipations; and Katie, -interpreting her glance, added hastily,— - -"But papa will restore it all some day. He always says his brain is his -Golconda, and he will be a Crœsus yet. He says——" - -"This is the dairy," interrupted Dido, suddenly turning a big key. -"Mind the step." - -It struck Helen that she frequently broke in upon the current of her -sister's narratives, especially when she was attempting to give -detailed descriptions of the sayings and doings of their gifted parent. - -"This is the dairy," she repeated, ushering them into a white-washed, -red-tiled room, filled with big, brown pans of wrinkled cream, tubs of -milk, and golden pats of butter. - -"We have five fine cows," she said, twirling the key round her thumb. -"We sell the milk about the place, and the butter in Terryscreen -market; Sally MacGravy takes it in every Thursday. She is cook, -laundress, and dairy-maid. The 'Master' churns. By-the-way, I wonder -where he is?" - -"Where he ought not to be, you may be perfectly certain," responded -Katie. "Yes, I see him, he is over in the turf-house." And sure enough, -just above the half-door of a great shed, the ill-tempered face of an -old brown mule was visible. - -"And that's the 'Master,'" exclaimed Helen, rather relieved in her own -mind; for visions of her eccentric uncle wielding the churn-dash had -somewhat disturbed her. - -"Yes," said Dido. "We call him the 'Master' because the name suits him -so beautifully. He goes and comes exactly as he pleases, opens doors -and gates, and walks in and out at pleasure. He was here when we came, -eight years ago, and is consequently the oldest inhabitant. Some people -say he is forty years of age; but at any rate he is older than any of -us! Now let us go to the garden." - -The garden was of vast extent, surrounded by high grey walls, and -wholly devoted to fruit and vegetables. Grass pathways, lined with -currant and gooseberry bushes, divided it into immense plots of -potatoes, peas, and cabbages. In some places, so dense was the jungle -of unwieldy bushes that these walks were quite impassable. - -"What quantities of fruit you will have!" remarked Helen, to whom this -huge garden was a novel sight. - -"Yes, there will be a fine crop of strawberries—at least I hope so, -for nothing pays so well," rejoined the distinguished-looking, but -practical Dido. "We make a good deal out of the fruit; and we work hard -ourselves; not in fancy aprons and with little trowels, but in real -sober earnest; we plant, and prune, and weed, and water; and on the -whole the garden is a financial success. And 'All Right' helps us. -That's him there in the next plot—the man without the hat. He minds -the cows, and goes to the post, and makes himself useful. He is called -'All Right' just because he is _not_ quite all there! Here he is now," -as an individual with a spade over his shoulder, and minus hat and -boots, came shuffling down a neighbouring walk. - -Andy was a middle-aged man, who looked quite juvenile; partly on -account of his very light and abundant hair, and almost white eyebrows, -and partly because of a certain childish expression,—relieved by -occasional flashes of very mature cunning. - -"Well, Andy," said Dido pleasantly, "you have a fine day for the young -plants; how are you getting on?" - -"Oh, finely, Miss, finely." - -"Here is our cousin.—Another young lady to help you in the garden, you -see." - -Andy, in answer to this introduction, half closed his eyes and scanned -her critically. After a long pause he scornfully replied,— - -"Faix I expect she'll only be good for weeding, Miss Dido! And see -here, Miss Dido, not to be losing all our day.—Will ye just tell me -what's to be done with them ash-leaved praties and the skerry-blues? -for sorra a know I know!" - -"I'll go this very instant, Andy. Katie, just show Helen round the -garden; but keep clear of the bees whatever you do." - -"I'll tell you all about Andy now," said Katie confidentially, taking -her companion's arm as they walked away. "You see what he is like! He -was never very strong in the head at the best of times; but a mistake -that happened a good many years ago, quite settled him.—A mistake -about a murder." - -"A murder!" echoed Helen, looking with startled eyes at the slouching -figure that was carrying off her graceful cousin. - -"Yes. You must know," continued Katie, now dropping into a tone of glib -narration, "that Crowmore belonged to papa's uncle, an old miser, who -lived in Dublin and let the house, and garden, and a few acres, to a -man of the name of Dillon. The rest of the land was managed by the old -steward, who was a first-rate farmer, and as honest as the sun. But to -return to Dillon. He had a good-for-nothing son, called John, who never -did anything but loaf and poach. In those days Andy was a handy-man, -or boy, about the yard, and he and this John were always quarrelling. -One day John beat him cruelly, and Andy was heard to declare that -he would certainly have his life! Anyway, a short time afterwards, -Dillon was found shot dead up at the black gate, between this and -Ballyredmond, and Andy was taken up and lodged in jail. However, he was -soon discharged, as it was proved at the inquest that Dillon's gun must -have gone off accidentally, though some people say it did _not_ to this -day.—But some people will say anything.—At any rate, the whole affair -gave Andy such a terrible fright, that he has never been the same -since." - -"And how is he affected?" - -"Chiefly by the sight of a policeman—a 'peeler,' as he calls him. At -the first glimpse, he takes to his heels and runs for his life. He -never ventures beyond the cross-roads, and would not go within a mile -of the black gate, by day or night, for millions; indeed, _no_ one goes -round that way after sundown," she added impressively. - -"And pray why not?" - -"Because they say John Dillon walks." - -"Walks?" echoed Helen, with a look of puzzled curiosity. - -"_Haunts_ it, then. Dozens have seen him leaning over the gate, just -about dusk, and it is quite certain that he shoots the coverts as -regularly as ever he did; I've often heard the shots myself." - -"Poachers, my dear simple little Katie." - -"Poachers, _real_ poachers, would not venture on the Crowmore or -Ballyredmond estates for all the game in Ireland! I'll tell you -something more extraordinary. Dillon had a brace of splendid red -setters. I remember them when we first came, very old, and nearly -blind. They say for a fact, that when these dogs would be lying by the -kitchen fire at night, they would suddenly hear Dillon's whistle, and -jump up and rush to the door, and whine and scratch until they were let -out; and then they would be away for hours, and come home all muddy, -and tired, and draggled, as if they had been working hard. Several -people have told me they have seen this themselves." - -"No doubt they have. Some one imitated John's whistle; I could do it -myself, if I heard it once. Some clever poacher was sharp enough to -make use of the late Mr. Dillon's excellent sporting dogs." - -"I never thought of that," said Katie reflectively. "But every one here -believes in Dillon's ghost. Darby Chute would not go up the woods after -dark for all you could offer him; _he_ believes in him, so does Barry. -Barry met him once in the dusk; he was carrying game, and he looked so -desperately wicked, and shook his gun in such a threatening way, that -Barry confesses that he turned, as he expresses it, and 'ran like a -hare.'" - -"And what is this sporting ghost like?" - -"He is very tall, with a long black beard, leather gaiters, and a -peaked cap pulled over his eyes." - -"My dear Katie, he was the first person to welcome me yesterday! We met -each other in the shrubbery, face to face." - -"Oh, Helen, _no_!" gasped her cousin, suddenly stopping and releasing -her arm. "Were you not frightened to death?" - -"Not I! I felt no qualms, no cold thrills; I received no hint that I -was in the presence of the supernatural.—He looked alive, and in the -best of health." - -"But he was _not_," rejoined Katie in a quavering voice; "that was just -John, the terror of the whole country. Oh, Helen, dear, I hope he has -not come to you as a _warning_," her voice now sinking to an awe-struck -whisper. - -"A fiddlestick! it was undoubtedly a human being going out to snare -rabbits. There are no such things as ghosts; at any rate, if this was -one, he smelt very strongly of bad tobacco! Come now, to change the -subject, do tell me something more about your bold cousin Barry,—who -runs like a hare?" - -"Oh, Helen! please, now really, you must not laugh at Barry. He can't -bear being chaffed," remonstrated Katie, in some dismay. "He is as -brave as any one in reality." - -"Oh, indeed! and what are his other virtues?" - -"Perhaps you may think him coarse and countrified, and too fond of -contradicting every word you say, and laying down the law; but he is a -very good fellow in the main, if you take him the right way." - -"And what is the right way? Please instruct me, in order that _I_ may -find him a very good fellow!" - -"Well; pretend that you think he is conferring a great, great favour, -and he will do anything for you. He can stand any amount of blarney, -but no contradiction!" - -"Strictly between ourselves, my little Katie, I don't think I shall -like this cousin of yours." - -"Exactly what he said of _you_," she exclaimed, clapping her hands in -great glee. "He declared you would be a stuck-up English girl, with a -grand accent, and a great opinion of yourself. He said you were sure -to have had your head turned by all the attention you had received in -those islands." - -"Well, if it was,—which I do not admit,—it has had ample time to go -back again. Governesses are not often the spoiled darlings of society." - -"But you are not a bit like a governess." - -"Am I not? You should see me at Mrs. Kane's." - -"Barry wondered very much that you came home unmarried," continued -Katie, who knew not the meaning of the words reticence and discretion, -and delighted in the sound of her own voice. "He said it was either of -two things——" pausing meditatively. - -"Did he, really! How kind of him to give his mind to my humble -affairs," exclaimed Helen, with an irony entirely lost upon her cousin, -who was now fighting her way through a small forest of currant bushes, -and discoursing as fluently as if she was sitting in an arm-chair. - -"Yes; he said it was either of two things—Helen, mind your eyes with -that branch! Either—I'll give you his own words—either you were -mortal ugly, or you had had a love affair, and the pigs ran through -it—meaning a disappointment, you know." - -Helen winced as though she had been struck, and if her companion had -happened to glance round, she would have been astonished at the colour -of her face;—a sudden deep blush suffused it from chin to brow. She -told herself passionately that dislike was far too weak a term to apply -to this country clown, whose clumsy curiosity had probed her secret to -the very core. This to herself; but aloud she merely said,— - -"Your cousin Barry must be blessed with a rich imagination?" - -"Oh, no! he is not a bit clever; but he is uncommonly sharp. He rather -prides himself——" - -Whatever he prided himself upon was not to be disclosed at present, for -a sudden turn brought them close to Dido, who called out,— - -"I thought I saw your heads above that thicket! I have to go to the -Cross, to speak to Darby: would you care to come, Helen? You may as -well learn all the geography of the place at once." - -To this suggestion she promptly assented, and in a few minutes was -walking down the neatly-kept front avenue, whose gates opened on the -Cross (or cross-road); the middle of which amply testified to the -indefatigable dancing that took place on Sundays (for "Crowmore Cross" -was what the assembly-rooms would be in some populous, fashionable -neighbourhood). A dozen cottages were scattered about, and the windows -of one of them exhibited two long clay pipes, some red and white candy, -and a ball of worsted, and on the strength of this rich display was -called "the shop." Dido halted at the door of a comfortable slated -house, and called out over the half-door,— - -"Is Darby within, Mrs. Chute?" - -"No, me lady, he is not," replied a little, withered old woman, -dropping a curtsey; then, as her eye fell upon Katie and Helen, she -said, "An' this is your cousin from England? The Lord spare you your -health, Miss." - -"And how are you yourself, Mrs. Chute?" inquired Dido sympathetically. - -"Oh, I got a very heavy turn that last time, me lady; but that stuff -you sent me and the jam did me a power of good. I'm finely now." - -"Well, I'm very glad to hear it. Tell Darby I want to see him this -evening, please—it's about the pigs; you won't forget?" said Dido, -turning her face homewards as she spoke. - -"Isn't it a funny thing, that of all the years we have been here we -have never been inside Chute's house!" exclaimed Katie. "Mrs. Chute -comes and stands at the door, but she never asks us further. This in -Ireland, where the first word is, 'Won't you walk in and take a sate?' -is _odd_." - -"Is that his wife?" inquired Helen. - -"Oh, no; his mother. He was nearly being married once to the daughter -of a well-to-do farmer, but they fell out about her dowry. They -'split,' as they call it, over a chest of drawers. I don't think he -will ever marry now. Somehow the neighbours don't like him; they say he -is very distant and dark in himself." - -"I heard you were wanting me, Miss Dido," said a squeaky voice, which -made them all turn round with quite a guilty start. - -Standing on the grass behind them (why could he not walk on the road?) -Helen beheld a tall, elderly man, with sharp features and a pair of -keen, grey eyes, set close together in his head. He had a coat over his -shoulder, a stick in his hand, and a most deceitful-looking lurcher at -his heels. - -"Yes, Darby, I left a message," replied Dido, quickly recovering -herself. "It's only to ask you about selling the store pigs." - -"Av they are fit,—and with all the feeding they are getting they bid -to be as fat as snails—ye might sell them on the fifteenth; but mind -you," shaking his head solemnly, "pigs is down—terribly down! And so -this is your cousin, Miss Denis?" putting his finger to his hat. - -"Yes; and you would never know she was any relation, would you?" said -Katie. "Would you guess we were cousins?" - -"'Deed I would _not_. And I never thought them English ladies were so -handsome till now," he rejoined, resting his hands on the top of his -stick, and speaking in a deliberate, confidential squeak. "I declare -that wan up at Ballyredmond has a face that sour on her, she gives me -the cramps every time I look at her; an' her walk!" raising his stick -and his eyes simultaneously, "for all the world like a turkey among -stubbles. Now, av I was asked——" - -"Darby, what _do_ you think? Only fancy! she met John Dillon face to -face last evening!" interrupted Katie with extraordinary irrelevance. - -A very curious look flashed into Darby's eyes. It came and went in the -space of half a second, and he rejoined, in a peevish, argumentative -tone,— - -"And sure, and how would Miss Denis know him?" - -"She describes him exactly; cap and all." - -"Yes, but all the same, I'm positive that it was no _ghost_," -supplemented Helen stoutly. - -"Holy St. Patrick, do ye hear her!" ejaculated Darby, in a tone of -pious horror. "Well, well, well; poor young lady; it's easy seen she is -a stranger! Don't ye be for letting her out about the place alone after -dark just now," he added in a sort of husky aside. - -"It's rather early for him _yet_," grumbled Katie. "From August to -February is his usual time." - -"Yes, the shooting season!" rejoined Helen, with a merry laugh. -"Nothing more is needed to persuade _me_ that the notorious John is -anything worse than a common poacher!" - -"Have your own way,—have your own way, Miss," wheezed Darby, -irritably. And it struck her that there was the _soupçon_ of a threat -in his narrow little eyes as he added,— - -"Maybe you won't get off so _aisy_ next time he meets you! If ye will -be said and led by me, ye will not be going about alone afther dusk. -And mind, if anything happens, and ye are found with the print of five -black fingers on your neck"—spreading out his own horny digits by way -of illustration—"and stretched as dead as a doornail, don't go and say -afterwards that ye waren't warned." - -With this remarkable caution, Darby hitched his coat over his shoulder, -nodded his head impressively, and then turning to Dido, said,— - -"I'll be up about them pigs this evening, Miss; but you need not be -laying out to get a heavy price for them! I'm for my dinner now," and -with an abrupt nod, Mr. Chute plodded off. - -"I'm sure you are shocked at his free-and-easy ways, Helen—at -all their free-and-easy ways!" exclaimed Dido. "But they mean no -incivility, and they take an interest in the——" - -"Yes, Darby, I can see, is very anxious that I should not put myself -in the way of being strangled by John Dillon. Really, it will be quite -exciting to go out after dark." - -"And the _only_ excitement we can offer you. You have no idea what a -quiet place you have come to," said Katie; "we have no society at all. -Papa never returned people's visits, or answered their invitations. He -never goes out, excepting about the place, in the dusk; he is entirely -buried in his experiments. People have all sorts of ideas about us; -they think that the Padré practises the black art, and that Dido and I -keep pigs in the parlour, and a threshing-machine in the back hall!" - -Helen laughed aloud at this description. If Crowmore was shabby, it was -beautifully clean; and if her cousins occasionally used the first thing -to hand instead of a regulation implement, the interior of the house -was not merely neat, but tasteful. - -"Of course, that's an exaggeration," said Dido. "But no one calls -here, excepting the rector, Barry, and old Mr. Redmond. He comes -from mere idle curiosity, to see if we are all alive and the house -not burnt down—he _said_ so! He and papa fought frantically about a -Greek word the only time they ever met. We tried to cut him, he was -so awfully rude to the Padré; but he would not see it, and he comes -here, and sends us books, and baskets of hot-house fruit and flowers, -and fish and game. We call it Mr. Redmond's out-door relief. He is a -kind-hearted old man!" - -"And does he live alone?" - -"No, there is Miss Redmond, his sister, a cripple from rheumatism, and -his ward, a horrid, supercilious creature; and in the shooting season, -he always has a house full. He rents the shooting of Crowmore as well. -Papa lets it—he lets everything." - -Her cousin's eyes travelled reflectively along the extensive demesne -wall, and she said,— - -"Crowmore is a large estate, is it not?" - -"Yes; but you need not run away with the notion that it is a fine -property. We are as poor as rats. On the other hand, Mr. Redmond is as -rich as a Jew." - -"Dido, do tell me who is the unfortunate English girl who has such a -painful effect on Mr. Chute," inquired Helen, as she and her relatives -strolled up the avenue arm-in-arm. - -"Oh, she is not nearly as bad as he makes out, though personally I do -not like her," replied Dido frankly. "She is the girl we were speaking -of just now; a Miss Calderwood—Kate Calderwood—a great heiress." - -"Has she freckles and high shoulders?"—halting as she asked the -question. - -"How on earth did _you_ know?" cried Dido in amazement. "Her shoulders -are up to her ears, and she is as freckled as a turkey's egg! But -for all that they say she is engaged to be married,—and to such a -good-looking man, to Mr. Redmond's favourite nephew, Gilbert Lisle." - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIII. - -"THE FANCY." - - "All impediments in fancy's course - Are motives of more fancy." - - -JUDY THE FANCY was one of the most prominent characters about Crowmore. -She lived at the Cross, and haunted that well-beaten thoroughfare from -early morn till dewy eve. Despite her name, "The Fancy" was certainly -no beauty; she had a yellow, wrinkled face, a pair of greedy little -black eyes, and features which bore a ludicrous resemblance to a turnip -ghost. Although she went bare-footed, she wore good, warm clothes, and -a respectable white cap; and no stranger could have guessed at her -profession until she struck up her habitual whine of—"Give the poor -ould woman the price of a cup of tay, your honour, the price of a cup -of tay, and I'll pray for ye; andeed ye might do worse than have the -prayers of the poor!" - -Sitting basking at her post, she taxed all comers, and taxed them most -successfully; for the little world of Crowmore were mortally afraid to -draw down the "Fancy's" tongue, and she received propitiatory offerings -of sods of turf, and "locks of male" from her own class, and numerous -sixpences, and coppers, from well-to-do neighbours. - -She was the mother of Andy All Right, and looked to the Castle with -confidence for the supply of her wardrobe, and praties, and sweet milk. -She would sorely vex the spirits of those who figuratively buttoned -up their pockets, by loud, uncomplimentary remarks on their personal -appearance, painful allusions to family secrets, and dismal prophetic -warnings of their future downfall. Many a stout-hearted man would -rather (if he had no small change), go a round of two miles, than run -the gauntlet of the "Fancy's" corner. - -She had also other means of levying tribute that rarely failed; not -begging with gross directness, or angry importunity, as I regret to say -was her occasional wont, but merely exclaiming aloud, as if talking to -herself,— - -"Musha! and it's Mrs. Megaw! and 'tis herself has the finest young -family in the whole side of the country; faix, no one denies that, not -wan; and signs on it, 'tis the mother they takes afther!" - -Or to a victim of the sterner sex (who are equally vulnerable in such -matters),— - -"And so that's Tim Duffy!"—in a tone of intense surprise—"sure, -an' I hardly know him. Troth, and it's a _trate_ to sit here and see -the likes of him going by. It's an officer in the army he should be, -instead of trailing there, afther a cart of turf!" - -These little speeches, had an excellent effect, and generally bore a -rich harvest. She had also an unfailing method of raising a spirit of -emulation among her benefactors. As for instance, having received, -we will say sixpence, from some charitable hand, she would turn it -over rather contemptuously in her palm, and exclaim, in a tone more of -sorrow than of anger,— - -"Well, I always thought ye were as free-handed as Mrs. Ryan; and _she_ -never asks me to look at less than a shilling! But maybe ye can't so -well afford it, dear; and God bless ye all the same." - -As Helen and her cousins returned from church on Sunday, they descried -the "Fancy" sitting on the hall door-steps; a clean cap on her head, -and a pipe in her mouth. - -"Your servant, ladies," she said, without rising, and gazing over their -heads in a rather abstracted (not to say embarrassing) fashion. - -"Well, Judy, and what is it to-day?" inquired Dido. - -"Oh, it's only Mr. Barry. He is inside"—with a wave of her pipe. "He -is a Justice of the Pace now, and I want him to do a small turn for me. -Just go in and don't trouble yourself about me, dearie." - -"So Barry is here!" cried Katie, visibly delighted. "What brings him? -Sunday is never his day?" - -"No," admitted her sister, as she followed her into the hall; "but he -has come to see Helen; and it gives him an excuse for his best clothes." - -Two large pointers with swaggering bodies, animated tails, and muddy -paws, now rushed out of the drawing-room to meet them; and in the -drawing-room, extended full length on the sofa, in an easy, negligent -attitude, they discovered the pointers' master. Turning his face -towards the door, he said,— - -"So you are back at last," then rising slowly, and putting his boots -on the ground, he raised himself to his full height, shot his cuffs, -and stared fixedly at Helen, and she at him (it must be confessed); he -was far, far worse than she had expected. She beheld a middle-sized -man, with bandy legs, a red face, and beaming countenance,—lit up by -an inward sun of self-complacency—dressed in a short cutaway coat, -a white waistcoat, and brilliant tie,—the sleeves of his coat and -the legs of his trousers revealed an unusual margin of red wrist and -grey stocking; but these discrepancies did not occasion the smallest -embarrassment to their wearer. - -"I hope you have been pretty comfortable, Barry?" inquired Dido, with a -rueful glance at the tumbled cushions and antimacassars. - -"No; that old bench of yours is as hard as a board! This is Miss Denis, -isn't it? Miss Denis," laying his hand on his heart, and making a low -bow, "your most humble." - -Which salute the young lady acknowledged by sweeping him a somewhat -disdainful curtsey. - -"Many in church?"—now looking at Katie. - -"Oh, the usual set, Reids and Redmonds. Mr. Redmond walked down the -avenue with Helen. Helen, you have certainly made a conquest _there_." - -"Of course she has," quoth Barry, seating himself; "it is not every day -he sees a pretty girl in these parts." Thus administering a compliment -to her, and a backhander to his cousins in the same breath. - -"What was Miss Calderwood saying to you, Dido?" inquired -Katie,—totally ignoring the foregoing agreeable speech! - -"Oh, she talked of the weather, and about Helen. She wanted to know -when she came, how long she was going to stay, and if it was true she -was a governess?" - -"Odious girl!" cried Katie, "she has a knack of asking nasty questions. -I can't endure her—nor the glare of her cold grey eyes." - -"Oh, she is not a bad sort of young woman," protested Barry, sticking -his thumbs in the arm-holes of his waistcoat, and leaning back in his -chair. "She and I get on first-class; but all the same, and quite -between ourselves, girls, I would never think of marrying her!" - -Helen stared in astonishment. Unquestionably here was a creature who -pressingly invited the most inflexible snubbings! He on his part had -been gazing at her with untrammelled amazement and admiration, and -now that these feelings had slightly subsided, began to engage her in -conversation. - -"And how do you like this part of the world?" - -"Very much indeed." - -"Humph! I would not have thought you were so easily pleased; it will -seem uncommonly dull after all your fine times in the East; there you -had balls, and parties, and admirers by the score." - -Helen drew up her neck, and looked dignified, and he said to himself, -"Ha, ha, my fine madam, I'll have to take you down a peg, if that's -your style." - -"Had you a comfortable situation in London at that school?" - -"Yes, thank you," she replied haughtily. - -"Well, we shall not allow you to go back this long time! Dido, we -must take Helen (could she believe her ears?) over to the band at -Terryscreen next week. I'LL treat you all at the hotel. You don't -mind me calling you Helen, do you? You know we are all cousins here!" -concluded Barry, with a discriminating readiness to claim kinship with -a pretty girl. - -"Yes," he said to himself, "Katie and Dido were not bad in their way, -but this new connection was really splendid!" - -In his mind's eye he already saw himself proudly parading her at the -band, and driving his intimates, and maybe the officers (who were _not_ -his intimates) simply mad with envy. - -She was a little bit stiff now, but that would soon wear off. - -"And how is the great inventor?" he inquired facetiously. - -"As usual," responded Dido, "quite well and very busy." - -"Is luncheon ready? for I'm as hungry as a hawk," he said. "I hope you -have got something decent to-day. None of your bacon and eggs! Mind, -Helen, you don't let them starve you, they are by no means liberal -with their butcher's meat," and he laughed uproariously, and evidently -considered that he had said something exquisitely witty. - -"We always have meat on _Sundays_," said Dido sarcastically, as she led -the way to an excellent repast in the dining-room. - -When Barry had taken the edge off his appetite, which he compassed in -a manner that excited Helen's disgust, he looked across at her, and -said abruptly,— - -"What's the name of those islands you were at?" - -"The Andamans." - -"You had fine times; twenty men to one girl, and no end of tennis and -parties; it's the other way about here," grinning complacently, "twenty -girls to one man, and no parties, balls, or fun of any kind." - -"I was only at one dance all the time I was at Port Blair." - -"Port Blair! _now_ i have it!" suddenly laying down his knife and fork, -and speaking in a loud, exultant tone, "I _thought_ i had heard of the -place somewhere. Girls, I'll tell you who was at those islands for -months, old Redmond's nephew! I say, Helen, did you ever come across a -fellow, of the name of Lisle?" - -"Yes, I knew him," returning his gaze with calm, untroubled eyes. - -"He was there for a long time. What was the attraction, eh?" - -"How can I tell you? Sport, I believe." - -"Oh!" with a palpable wink at Katie. "Sport! There are a good many -different kinds of _sport_. And now tell me what you think of him." - -"I'm not prepared with an opinion at such short notice." - -"Which means that you don't like him! Neither do _I_. Come, that's one -bond of union—give us your hand on it," jumping up and stretching -an eager red member across the table,—where it remained alone, and -unsought! - -"I never said that I did not like Mr. Lisle," returned Helen, with -freezing politeness. - -"Oh!" drawing back, visibly affronted. "So that's the way with you, -is it? Well, he is not a bad-looking chap, and you know he is a great -catch! Plenty of _other_ girls would give their ears to marry him." - -"Pray explain yourself, Mr. Sheridan," said Helen, fiercely. "Do you -mean me to understand that _I_ would have given my ears to marry him?" -Her eyes were flashing and her colour rising, and there was every -indication of a domestic storm. - -"Don't mind him! Don't mind him!" cried Katie, gallantly turning the -tide of battle, "it's only his chaff; he _loves_ to put people in a -passion. Barry, you must really remember that Helen is not used to your -jokes _yet_." - -"Nor ever would be," thought that young lady, wrathfully. - -"Oh, well, no offence, no offence; I did not know you were so _touchy_ -about him! He is a great favourite with the old boy—I mean his -uncle,—but he is hardly ever here, always rambling about the world. I -think myself, he is by no means the saint his fond relations imagine, -and that he has a screw loose somewhere." - -"And I'm sure he has not," rejoined Dido, hotly. "I like him, though -I've only met him once or twice. He is a gentleman, which is more than -I can say for other people in this part of the world. He is delightful -to talk to, very good-looking, never gives himself airs, never -brags——" - -"One would think you were his hired trumpeter," interrupted Barry, -angrily. "What do _you_ know, a girl like _you_! Believe me, still -waters run deep. Give me a jolly, above-board chap that will light a -pipe, and mix a tumbler of whisky punch, and open his mind to you! None -of your cool, deliberate fellows, who smoke cigarettes, drink claret, -and look as if you have seven heads when you make a little joke." - -"I wonder if he is coming for the shooting," said Katie, amiably -anxious to smooth matters. "He is fond of it, I know." - -"Yes, and a fair shot, but jealous, as I found the only day I was out -with him; _twice_ he took my bird." - -"Perhaps because you missed it," retorted Dido, coolly. "Sometimes he -comes for a month's hunting in winter,"—turning to Helen. "He's a -splendid rider, the best in the county." - -"Well, I don't know about that, Dido! Ahem! I don't wish to praise -myself, but I'll be glad to hear of a more forward man with the Bag Fox -pack, than Barry Sheridan, Esq., J.P. Why, the very last time I was out -I jumped a gate—a five-barred gate!" addressing himself specially to -Helen. - -"Then if you did, Barry," said Dido, rising and pushing back her chair, -"it must have been on the _ground_! You know very well that you can't -ride a yard. Your shooting I don't deny; but when you boast of jumping -five-barred gates, you know you are talking nonsense." So saying, -she walked out of the room, followed by the two girls and Barry—who -brought up the rear after a considerable interval, muttering wrathfully -to himself. - -As he passed into the hall, he came in full view of the "Fancy," seated -on the steps. On beholding him, she called out in her most dulcet -coaxing key,— - -"Oh, my own darling young gentleman, you are a sight for sore eyes; -your 'Fancy' has been waiting on you these two hours!" - -"Then she _must_ wait," he growled, nevertheless approaching, with his -hands in his pockets and a rather important strut. - -"Oh, then, I know ye don't mane _that_. An' sure now, Miss," appealing -to Helen, and languishing at her with her head on one side, "and isn't -he an ornament to any country?" - -Helen became crimson with suppressed laughter, and was totally unable -to utter any reply. However, her levity was not lost on Barry, who made -a note of it against some future occasion, when she should be repaid in -kind. - -"Well, Judy, what is it?" impatiently. - -"Only a whisper, darlin'. 'Tis just this," suddenly rising to her feet, -"ever since I lost me health, come Christmas twenty years, and manny -and manny a time before that, I washed for your mother——" - -"Just cut all that part, will you?" - -"Well thin, I'm here at the Cross, a poor, lone widder, that has -buried all belonging to me but Andy, and living on the charity of the -public, as ye know, this blessed nineteen years! And now, a thief of -a black stranger from beyant Terryscreen, has come and set himself -down alongside of me. A _blind_ man itself—any way it's what he lets -on—and every one knows I'm _not_; and they are all for giving to the -poor dark creature. And sure, he has me ruined and destroyed entirely!" -now raising her voice a full octave, and commencing to cry with -alarming energy. - -"You know if I did right I'd give you six weeks of Terryscreen jail for -begging in the public highway," said Barry, magisterially. - -"An' if ye did that same," drying her eyes, and stretching out her -hands, "I take these beautiful angels as mee witnesses, I'd rather have -six weeks from your honour, than six days from another; and that's as -sure as I'm standing here!" - -Barry was palpably flattered, and grinned, and looked at Helen out of -the corner of his left eye to see if she was impressed, as much as -to say, "What do you think of _that_?"—But, unfortunately, she was -grinning also. - -"Indeed, it's bitterly cold in winter," put in Dido, "and I'm not a bit -sorry that some one has taken your corner. With Andy in constant work, -and milk, and potatoes, and a pinch of tea from us, you know you will -_never_ miss it." - -"Arrah, Miss Dido! sure ye don't know what you are talking about. -And how would ye? If that rapscallion gets a footing in my holding, -it's ruin and destruction that's in it; just that, and no more! Why," -lowering her voice mysteriously, "sure it's as good as a _farm_ to me, -darlin'! Aye, and betther; it's all in-comings, and no stock, and no -rint." - -This amazing confidence threw an entirely new light on the subject. Her -three listeners stared at the old woman in respectful astonishment. -They would have stared still more, could they have seen the -comfortably-filled stocking that was hidden away under the thatch of -Judy's cabin. - -"Well, I can't stay here all day. I'll see what I can do for you," said -Barry, abruptly. "I've important papers to sign at home, and I must be -off." - -The truth was, that the good gentleman was ruffled at Helen's attitude -of repressed amusement, and at Dido's courageous candour; and he felt -that he could not punish the offending couple more simply, or more -effectually, than by removing himself, and leaving them to their own -devices all through the long Sunday afternoon. He flattered himself -that Miss Denis would _soon_ learn his value. - -Now Barry was the only eligible bachelor, in a neighbourhood where -there were legions of girls,—and was fully sensible of his own -importance. In his secret heart, he believed that he had only to ask -any young woman within a radius of say twenty miles, and, in his own -homely parlance, "she would be thankful to jump at him." And he felt -conscious that he was dealing a cruel blow to the little circle at -Crowmore when, seizing his hat and stick, and calling his dogs, he bade -them a general farewell, and hurried down the steps. - -His departure was the signal for the "Fancy" to take leave. Willy -nilly, she escorted him to the gate,—to the intense delight of the -spectators in the doorway. Vainly he tried to shake her off; vainly -he increased his pace; his manœuvres were totally unavailing, his -companion still trotted bare-footed beside him, gesticulating as she -went with both head and hands. Her eloquence undoubtedly had its -reward, for within a week "the dark man from beyond Terryscreen" had -mysteriously disappeared, and she reigned in undisputed possession of -her own warm corner. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIV. - -"THE SLAVE OF BEAUTY." - - "A 'strange coincidence,' to use a phrase - By which such things are settled now-a-days." - - _Byron._ - - -"HERE'S the comrade of your glove, Miss Dido," said Biddy, descending -into the hall, where the three girls, attired in their best summer -dresses (being about to set forth for a tennis party at Ballyredmond), -were impatiently awaiting her. - -"Will I do?" inquired Dido, as she received her property. "Or is my hat -too shabby? This is its third summer, you know!" - -"An' deed, an' you'll do finely; 'tis only too grand you are! What -call is there to be dressing just for the ould gentleman and Miss -Calderwood, and maybe Misther Barry, that ye can see any day of the -week without putting yourselves to any rounds at all?" demanded Biddy -in an acrimonious key. - -"Oh, but this is to be quite a grand affair," protested her younger -nursling. "We have had three days' invitation. It's my opinion," -glancing at her pretty cousin, "that this 'at home' is given for _you_, -Helen. Mr. Redmond has been here twice this week; you have bewitched -him." - -"I would not put it past him! for nothing grows old with a man but his -clothes," cried Biddy scornfully. "And shure he might give something -dacent when he went about it; _I've_ no opinion of these grass parties -and chape entertainments. God be with the good ould times, when no one -was axed to cross the door, under a dinner or a ball; indade, Redmond's -own father used to give the height of high feedin' and kep' a butt -of claret standing in the hall, just ready to your hand. But now, -when you go out, no one even so much as axes, if you have a mouth on -you?—for—by a drink of tay, that wake, that ye can see the bottom of -the cup!" - -Notwithstanding this gloomy sketch, the three young ladies (to whom -this "chape entertainment" was a delightful novelty) were not the least -disheartened, and set off to walk across the demesne in the highest -possible spirits, leaving Biddy and her apple-cheeked niece filling up -the doorway, and gazing after them with the affectionate complacency of -people who were surveying a creditable personal possession. - -"There's not their like in the county!" exclaimed Sally, as she folded -her massive arms across her apron strings. - -"No, nor in ten counties! and what's the good of it all; will ye tell -me that?" inquired her aunt peevishly. "There's Miss Dido, with the -walk of a duchess and the voice of a thrush, and Miss Helen, a real -beauty, and Katie not too bad entirely,—and not a sign of any one, -watching wan of them!" - -"I think Misther Barry has an eye on Miss Denis," insinuated Sally -timidly. - -"Is it that spalpeen? An' much good may it do him! She would not look -at the same side of the road as him," returned Biddy fiercely. "He -would not dar' to ax her. Shure she's the only one of them all knows -how to talk to him, and that quenches him rightly." - -"That's true for you," assented Sally, nodding her head in grave -acknowledgment of this indisputable fact. - -"It's just killing me," continued the old woman, "to see them young -ladies wasting their looks and their years here, slaving in the house, -and garden, like blacks. What's to be the end of it, at all, at all?" - -"The end will be that the masther will burn us all in our beds yet," -replied Sally with angry promptitude. "What is he up to now?" glancing -at one of the tower windows, out of which vast volumes of dense black -smoke were curling in lazy clouds. - -"Oh, the Lord only knows!" retorted her aunt impatiently, as she turned -and walked into the hall with an unusually sour expression on her -jovial old countenance. - -"There's no daling with the likes of him," she muttered as she -descended to the lower regions, "for he will nayther do wan thing, or -the other; he won't go properly out of his mind, and he won't lave it -alone; and he has me fairly bothered, and me heart is broke, with his -mischeevous contrivances." - -Meanwhile, the three girls walked over the hill, and passed through -Dillon's gate into the precincts of Ballyredmond, a fine park of -seemingly endless extent, through which a beautifully-kept avenue wound -like a white ribbon, by clumps of beeches, rows of lime trees, and -great solitary oaks. Nearer the house beds of brilliant flowers broke -the monotony of the turf, and a long gravelled terrace was crowned -by an ugly but dignified-looking mansion, that seemed an appropriate -centre for the surrounding scene. - -The Misses Sheridan and Miss Denis were the last arrivals, and were -received by Miss Redmond in the pleasure-ground. They found her sitting -under a tree in her bath chair, arrayed in her best white shawl and a -picturesque garden bonnet. She was a pretty old lady, with white hair, -an ivory skin, and soft, caressing manners, and she greeted the three -chaperoneless (to coin a word) girls with evident pleasure. Not so -Miss Calderwood, the deputy hostess; her welcome was by no means so -gracious or so genial. She gave the two Sheridans a limp shake-hands, -and bestowed a curt bow and a long stare upon their cousin, the -governess (who was looking remarkably pretty and well-dressed in one -of the costumes upon which Mrs. Creery had once fixed her elderly -affections). Evidently she did not think that Miss Denis was entitled -to participate in the advantages of her acquaintance and patronage. -However, Mr. Redmond more than atoned for his ward's deficiencies. He -led Helen to a seat, introduced her to several of the county people, -fussed about her rather too assiduously with tea and cakes and other -light refreshments, and finally took share of the same rustic bench, -and engaged her entire attention. - -Biddy's dismal forebodings had been brilliantly refuted. We notice the -party from the Rectory (a considerable contingent), several remote -families, half-a-dozen officers from a garrison town, and last, but by -no means least, our friend Barry, standing beside Miss Calderwood, with -his hands behind his back, and such an air of serious criticism in his -port, that one would imagine he was in an African slave-market, and -contemplated the purchase of one or two of Mr. Redmond's guests. - -Mr. Redmond himself never left Helen's side, and coolly (and I consider -selfishly) dismissed all overtures respecting a game of tennis, with -a bland wave of his hand. His beautiful young _protégée_, the desired -partner of several eligible tennis players, was simply not allowed to -have a voice in the matter. - -"We are very happy here! Just go away, my good fellow, and leave us -alone," was his complacent reply to each eager suitor. "You and I," -to Helen, "will do better than that! we will stroll round the grounds -together by-and-by, when all these energetic idiots have settled down -to what they consider the business of life." - -It never seemed to occur to him that Helen would have preferred to join -the said band of energetic idiots, or to have liked the company of a -younger swain—and presently he marched her off—to make a grand tour -of the greenhouses and gardens. - -Although Mr. Redmond was a little, round, old gentleman, who had -white eyebrows, and wore an ostentatious brown wig—his heart was as -young, as susceptible, and as fickle as if he was three-and-twenty; he -delighted in a pretty face, and especially in the company of a lovely, -smiling girl, like his present companion, who, besides all her other -charms, proved to be a most accomplished listener. As they walked, he -talked, talked incessantly; indeed, the garrulous old personage became -most gratuitously confidential about his property, his neighbours, -and his nephew. "My nephew" was dragged headlong into every other -sentence,—conversationally you came face to face with "my nephew" at -each corner; his opinion was quoted on all conceivable subjects, from -politics down to black currant jam. Another listener might have been -a little bored, and even irritated, but the pretty tall girl in white -listened with a greedy attention, of which she angrily told herself she -ought to be heartily ashamed.—The world was but a small place after -all! Here, in what her aunt Julia called the "wilds," she was strolling -along, _tête-à-tête_ with Gilbert Lisle's uncle, undoubtedly the very -identical old gentleman whom he had mentioned as carrying on an ink -feud with his father, but who was somewhat partial to _him_. Partial -was no word for it! infatuation was nearer to the mark. - -"I'm sure all those young fellows are mad with me for carrying you -off," and he chuckled delightedly. "But, after all, it's no reason that -because I'm an old fogey I'm not to have a pleasant afternoon, too, eh? -From the time I could walk alone, I was always the slave of Beauty!" -Here he doffed his hat, and made Helen a most courtly bow, at which she -blushed and laughed. - -"Yes, the slave of Beauty; all the same," resuming his hat with a -flourish; "I never married, you see! The fact was, I butterflied about -too long, and then it was winter before I knew where I was! We are not -a marrying family; there's my sister and myself, and my nephew, I'm -always preaching to him, but he laughs when I talk to him, and tells me -to go and marry myself—impudent rascal, that's a nice way to speak to -his uncle, eh? All the same, he is a fine fellow, as true as steel, -and a more honourable, upright gentleman never drew breath; whoever -gets him for a husband will be a lucky girl." - -The corners of his companion's pretty lips curved somewhat scornfully, -and she said to herself, "Shall I explode a social torpedo under this -innocent old gentleman's feet, and say I know your illustrious nephew, -he asked _me_ to marry him, and instantly took ship and left me; -although he swore that he would return, as surely as the sun rose in -the heavens! Would it be agreeable to her companion to learn that his -paragon's idea of honour was more elastic than he imagined?" - -"Two or three times," continued Mr. Redmond, "I've tried to marry my -nephew to some nice girl, and it has always been a dead failure, I've -picked out a beauty, had her to stay, got up riding parties, driving -parties, and even moonlight picnics (as if moonlight picnics were -irresistible), and it was all no go. Just as I thought everything was -arranged, he would slip through my fingers like a piece of soap!" -(precisely Helen's own experience). "Well, now I want to ask your -advice. What do you think of those two yew-trees?" he demanded with -rather bewildering suddenness. - -"I—candidly, I don't admire them; they remind one of a church-yard." - -"Exactly, and as I don't want to be reminded of anything so deuced -unpleasant: down they shall come! And, now, what's your opinion of -these new flower-beds they have just cut out in this ribbon garden?" - -"I think they are not sharp enough at the corners; they are too much -the shape of biscuits,—the 'People's mixed.'" - -"So they are! and shall we have them filled with pink verbenas, or -crimson geraniums?" - -"Crimson—that lovely new, deep shade." - -"And crimson it shall be! Allow me to give you this rose!" suddenly -plucking one as he spoke. "My dear Miss Denis, I see that our tastes -are identical.—I only wish I was a young man for your sake." - -His companion made no response, but on the whole she thought she -preferred him as he was. - -By this time they had encountered various other promenading couples, -and in a shady walk they came face to face with Barry and Miss -Calderwood, and the latter, instead of passing by on the other side, -with her nose in the air, halted directly in front of Helen, and said -most abruptly,— - -"Miss Denis, Mr. Sheridan tells me that you were in the Andamans with -Gilbert Lisle,—and knew him _intimately_!" - -Helen coloured vividly, partly at this sudden accost and partly because -of that sting in the tail of the sentence, that thrice underlined word -"intimately;" and Mr. Redmond, wheeling swiftly round so as to face -her, ejaculated, "God bless my soul! you don't tell me so." - -"Yes, I knew a Mr. Lisle in the Andamans," admitted Helen reluctantly. - -"Only fancy! How immensely funny!" drawled Miss Calderwood. - -To Helen there had been nothing specially amusing in the acquaintance, -so she closed her lips firmly and held her peace. - -"Why—why—I've been talking to you about him for the last hour, and -you never told me this!" cried Mr. Redmond, eyeing her with an air of -angry suspicion. "Eh, what?" - -"You mentioned no name," faltered the young lady, feeling that verily -this quibbling with the truth was as bad as any downright lie; but -confronted by three curious faces, with the eyes of Barry—of Gilbert -Lisle's uncle—and Gilbert Lisle's betrothed, fixed imperatively on -hers—was she to appease their greedy curiosity and boldly confess the -painful reason of her silence? was she to proclaim the humiliating fact -that they were all staring at the girl who had been jilted by that -honourable gentleman? - -"Mentioned no name—neither I did! And how were you to know? Eh, what? -Well, and what did you think of my nephew?" inquired the loquacious old -relative. - -At this point-blank query Miss Calderwood flashed a satirical look at -Miss Denis, as much as to say, "What a silly unnecessary question!" But -Helen met her eyes with proud steadiness. - -"I think most people liked Mr. Lisle," she answered with well-assumed -carelessness. - -"And how long was he at the Andamans?" continued Mr. Redmond. - -"About six months." - -"Six months! And what was he doing there all that time? Any little -entanglement—eh?" rather anxiously. - -"I cannot tell you." - -"Ah!—I see that you know more about Gilbert than you will admit!" -exclaimed Miss Calderwood with a sharp accusing glance. "I believe -girls in India are odious creatures. I have no doubt he got into some -scrape out there." Helen blushed scarlet. "Yes," with an unpleasant -little laugh, "your face tells tales. I suppose he was drawn into some -silly flirtation—men _are_ such fools! Well, it is very good of you to -keep his secret; it's more than others would have done!" and with this -insolent hint and a patronizing nod the heiress walked on. - -Helen felt almost breathless with anger. "She had the passions of her -kind;" her eyes sparkled, her nostrils quivered as she gazed after -her receding rival. What had she done that she should be insulted and -flouted by this supercilious heiress? - -"Scrape!—stuff! Flirtation!—rubbish! It's all jealousy, every bit of -it!" cried Mr. Redmond, as he removed his hat and cautiously passed his -bandana across his forehead. "Gilbert is not a ladies' man—I only wish -he was! And so you knew him very well? Eh, what?" - -"As well as most people," turning away to break off a bit of syringa. - -"Well, now let me hear all about him," very eagerly. "He hardly ever -writes, and when he does there's nothing in his letters. Come, now, -what did he do? How did he pass his time?" - -"I really cannot tell you much—he lived a long way off on the -mainland. I believe he spent his days in fishing and sailing. He liked -the Andamans because they were a lazy, out-of-the-world region." - -"I hope to goodness he liked them for nothing _else_. Eh, what? Six -months' sailing and fishing was the deuce of a time, you know! You -don't—just between you and me, you know—you don't think he had any -_other_ attraction? Eh, what—what?" - -"Honestly, I don't believe he cared a straw for any one in the place," -raising her eyes gravely to his, and speaking with unusual emphasis. - -"Oh, well, I fancy _you_ would be likely to know," rejoined the old -gentleman innocently. "We must have some nice long talks about Gilbert; -but just now I'm afraid we will have to go back to the tennis-ground; I -want to have a chat with old Mrs. Morony. I need not tell you I'd much -rather stay here walking about with you," he added gallantly. "But I -must not be too selfish; and I'll give the young fellows a chance!" - -So Helen was at last released from this purgatorial _tête-à-tête_, and -permitted to join the rest of the company. - -When she took leave of Miss Calderwood (which I must say she did very -stiffly), she read more than a mere contemptuous dismissal in that -lady's eyes; she saw suspicion, ay, and dislike, lurking in those -shallow grey orbs; but Mr. Redmond wrung her hand affectionately at -parting and said in his heartiest manner,— - -"And to think of your knowing Gilbert! Eh, what? Well, I have dozens of -questions to ask you about him; I shall be over to-morrow or next day." - -"Poor Helen, I pitied you," said Katie as they walked home. "It was too -bad of Mr. Redmond to carry you off." - -"_Il faut souffrir pour être belle_," added Dido, with a laugh. "What a -dose you must have had of 'my nephew!—my nephew'!" - -As far as the Misses Sheridan were concerned "the chape entertainment" -had been a prodigious success. They had enjoyed themselves immensely; -had played tennis, sipped tea, and strolled about the grounds under -military escort. Katie's tongue as she tripped along went like the -clapper of the proverbial mill; but Helen was preoccupied and unusually -silent. To return _viâ_ dillon's Gate at the hour of seven p.m. was a -feat quite beyond the Misses Sheridan's courage, and in spite of their -cousin's protestations and remonstrances they insisted on going round -by the road and entered Crowmore by the old avenue. As they turned a -corner they noticed Sally's portly figure speeding towards the Castle -with somewhat guilty haste, and a man approaching in their direction -with his hands in his pockets and a straw in his mouth. To Helen's -amazement it was Larry Flood. - -"More power, ladies," was his brief but novel greeting. - -"A fine evening, Larry," returned Dido. "So you have been walking with -Sally?" - -"'Tis only wance in a way, your ladyship." - -"Is Biddy still against it?" - -"She's that much again it, that if I wor to go next or near the house -she'd just pick mee eyes out! Maybe you'll put in a word for me, Miss?" - -"I don't see why Sally should not please herself. She's old enough." - -"Well, for that matter we are both of us pretty long in the tooth! But -I'll have her before the priest in spite of the old wan yet, though she -_is_ trying to draw down a match with Darby Chute!" - -"Oh, _that_ would never do!" exclaimed Helen with involuntary emphasis. - -"I'm entirely of your opinion, Miss," said Larry, turning towards her. -"I see you're none the worse for that little tip off the car! An' you -are looking just as beautiful as a harvest moon!" - -"And how is Finnigan's mare?" she inquired, not to be outdone in -politeness. - -"Oh, faix!" scratching his head, "shure she nearly drowned herself and -me about a month ago. Coming out of Terryscreen fair and aisy, we met -a band of music all of a sudden on the bridge, and without the least -provocation she just turned about and leapt over the parapet, car and -all!" - -"And did YOU go over, Larry?" asked Helen with benevolent solicitude. - -"Troth, and I did not. _I_ stayed on land. We had terrible work to -get her out, though she swam like an otter, and there was no great -harm done, barrin' to the shafts again; but the mails was soaking -wet—just in a sort of pulp; and the postmaster was raging and spoke -very bitter. The end of it was I had to get shut of the mare! A horse -on the road is well enough; but when they show a taste for the water -it's a different kind of driving is required. So I sold her to a canal -boatman—and maybe she's aisy now. She'll be hard set to run away with -the boat! Well, she was a fine traveller!" he concluded regretfully. - -"And what have you now?" - -"Only the blind brown, till the fair of Banagher. He's a hape of work -in him yet, and there's no fear of _him_ shying. Well, Miss Dido, I'll -not be detaining you. You'll mind and put in a word for me with the -ould 'fostooke,'—I mane Biddy Macgravy. Tell her I'm a warm man, and -an honest man, and a dacent man. Sure all the world knows that! She's -taking her pigs to the wrong market," he added significantly, as he -abruptly touched his caubeen, and departed. - -"Modesty, thy name is Larry Flood!" ejaculated Helen. "Every one know's -he's an honest man, and a dacent man!" - -"Well, yes, he is in his way," acquiesced Dido, "but HE knows who is -the heiress of these parts, and that Sally is a splendid dairy woman, -and has a fortune of forty pounds! not to speak of a second-hand gold -watch!" - - - - -CHAPTER XXXV. - -"THE APPARITION." - - "And having once turned round, walks on, - And turns no more his head, - Because he knows a frightful fiend - Doth close behind him tread." - - _Ancient Mariner._ - - -HOWEVER highly Mr. Sheridan's intellectual faculties might be rated -by foreign philosophers, and corresponding _savants_, yet, like the -typical prophet, he had no honour in his own country, and was credited -by the most lenient, with wanting at least one day in the week! Even -Andy All Right (who was dimly conscious of his own deficiencies), had -more than once been heard to draw comparisons between himself and his -master, which were by no means to the latter's advantage. - -Helen saw but little of her uncle; indeed, only on those rare -occasions, when he joined his family at dinner, and during that meal, -he rarely opened his lips, save for the purpose of swallowing food, -his attention was wholly absorbed by some object not present, that -monopolized all his thoughts. Now and then he would pause, lay down -his knife and fork, lean back in his chair, and meditatively comb his -beard with somewhat inky fingers, sometimes he would suddenly catch -fire at a passing remark, and use it as a text for an unexpected -and eloquent lecture on astronomy, biology, philosophy, or even -hydrophobia; he had an excellent and intelligent listener in his -niece, who followed him patiently through all the mazes of his varied -subjects, anxiously endeavouring to glean information for the benefit -of herself and her pupils; (and what she could not comprehend, from its -being enclosed in a labyrinth of words, she modestly attributed to her -own mental density). As Mr. Sheridan proceeded with his discourse, his -voice gradually gained such force, his words came so rapidly and so -opportunely, that he seemed to be completely transformed. As he warmed -to his subject, he would start from his seat, his dark eyes flashing, -his weird hands waving, he looked more like an impassioned Druid, -invoking his countrymen to war, and human sacrifices, than a modern -paterfamilias, presiding at a frugal domestic meal. Then, as suddenly -as it had kindled, the fire would expire, he would pause abruptly, -sigh, and presently push back his chair, and steal noiselessly from the -room. - -He lived altogether in the tower, behind barred and bolted doors, and -through which Dido and Biddy had the sole _entrée_, and there,—secure -against interruption, or indiscreet investigation,—he carried on -some mysterious undertaking, to which he gave the rather vague name -of "scientific research." But loud explosive sounds, odours (not of -Araby), and dense volumes of smoke, were the only outward symptoms of -his industry. - -During all the summer months every one at Crowmore pursued the even -tenour of their way, with uneventful regularity. Larry drove the red -car, and made surreptitious love to Sally, the "Fancy" clamoured at the -Cross, Darby continued to plunder his master, and that master remained -shut up in his fastness, throwing away time, and money, with both hands. - -Helen was an adaptable girl, and was now as much at home at the Castle, -as if she had lived there for years: she had completely regained -her health, and spirits, and was as full of life and energy as the -indefatigable Dido. She toiled in the garden with unremitting industry, -and took as profound an interest in the weekly "cart," and the result -of Sally's "day," as did her cousins themselves. She had learnt how to -make butter, to bandy blarney with her relatives, to baffle Barry's -compliments, and, the greatest feat of all,—elude Mr. Redmond's -cross-examinations. - -By the middle of August, the bushes in the garden were bent down -with fruit, and many and many an hour, the three girls spent picking -strawberries, currants, and gooseberries for the public market, or for -private sale. Time passed merrily enough in songs, stories, jokes, and -riddles, but no story, song, or riddle, had half as much interest for -the Misses Sheridan as their cousin's experiences at Port Blair! This -topic afforded inexhaustible entertainment to these two county mice; -over and over again Helen was called upon to recount her arrival, her -first impressions, to describe boating, shelling, and picnic parties. -Indeed, after a time Dido and Katie said they were perfectly familiar -with the appearance of every one in the settlement, and declared that -they almost felt as if they had been in the islands themselves! Strange -to say, that in the midst of all her glowing descriptions of people and -places, Helen never once let fall the name of _Lisle_. It was—had her -simple cousins but known—like the play of "Hamlet," without the Prince -of Denmark. She gave spirited representations of Mrs. Creery, and -mimicked Lizzie Caggett's screech, and Apollo's languid drawl. She had -an extraordinary faculty (I will not say talent) for such imitations, -a faculty that had been inflexibly nipped in the bud at school, an -accomplishment that she doubtless inherited from her versatile Greek -mother. Who would have guessed that, at a moment's notice, pretty -Miss Denis, could take off the voice, laugh, and demure manner of any -specified acquaintance? She had never practised this art till now, -when she discovered that a few such illustrations, brightened up her -narrative, and threw her audience into ecstasies of delight.—Helen -was undoubtedly an unusually clever girl, when she could thus infuse -interest, amusement, life and romance into a story—and yet omit the -hero! - -One evening, after early tea, the three girls were busy in the garden, -sitting on little three-legged stools, among a thicket of bushes, -picking raspberries into a huge tin can, when Helen—whose thoughts -were sharpened by her cousins' grinding poverty, their unremitting -endeavours to make both ends meet, and their father's apathetic -seclusion—said suddenly,— - -"Don't think me a Paul Pry, Dido; but do tell me what uncle is -doing.—Is he writing a book?" - -"No; not now.—He _has_ written several splendid pamphlets on -gravitation, and about a dozen on wind; there are thousands of them -upstairs; they did not sell; they were above the average intellect; -indeed, I could not understand them myself. But then, I'm not clever!" - -"Yes, you are, Dido," said her cousin decidedly. "You are a first-rate -musician, a capital German scholar. I wish I had half your brains!" - -"That is nonsense, my dear——" - -"Papa has invented no end of wonderful things," interrupted Katie -proudly. - -Helen looked up expectantly, and Dido answered,— - -"Yes; little machines for measuring and weighing air; but, -unfortunately, his most remarkable contrivances have all been -discovered before!" - -"And what is he doing now?" - -"He is constructing an apparatus that is to be the marvel of the age. -It is to be an overwhelming success. A surprise to humanity; but I do -not know what it is!" - -"Can you not guess?" - -Dido shook her head gravely, and Katie burst out, "Poor papa is out -of his element here. When we were children—indeed, till Dido was -sixteen—we lived in Germany, as you know, at a cheap little place, -called Kraut, and the Padré had plenty of congenial society, and made -many literary friends, who profess a great interest in his work still. -He takes them into his confidence. They know all about it.—They often -write to him——" - -"To ask for money," appended Dido bitterly. "They are not real -_savants_ and inventors, and great literary lights, as papa fancies—at -least, I don't think they are. Certainly, some of our neighbours at -Kraut were clever, intellectual people, but others, whom papa picked -up in the train, or in the gardens, or the street, it's my opinion -they were all impostors. You remember the man from Baden, Katie; you -remember the Pole; you remember the Italian who——" - -"Don't talk of them!" cried her sister impatiently. "They were all -swindlers and thieves!" - -"And still papa has faith in strangers!" continued Dido. "A man has -only to claim him as a brother inventor, and say he is short of funds, -and were he making an instrument to bray like an ass, the Padré would -send him a cheque for fifty pounds.—And yet he grudges himself a pair -of slippers, and says he can't afford a door-knocker! I've no patience -with these hateful foreign harpies!" she concluded, tossing a handful -of fruit into the general receptacle, and rising as she spoke. "This -can is nearly full," she added; "you two can finish it without me, and -I must go in and weigh the strawberries." So saying, she tucked her -stool under her arm, pushed her way through the bushes, and vanished. - -"Dido is vexed," exclaimed her sister, looking straight at Helen; "and -indeed it is trying sometimes, to think that while she works so hard -to earn a few shillings, the Padré sends away hundreds of pounds to -any person who chooses to write him flattering begging letters! And he -spends a fortune on books—expensive scientific works. He orders whole -boxes full; and when they come he never even opens them! There are a -dozen great cases, all mouldering, out in the coach-house. When mamma -was alive she kept some of the money; and she and the old steward -managed pretty well. After they died there was no one—for of course -the Padré could not have his mind disturbed about pigs and grazing -stock. After a time he took a great fancy to Darby; and Darby and Dido -do their best—and very bad it is! Barry wanted to manage the property, -but papa was furious at the bare notion! I myself, think it would have -been a good plan, but Dido set her face against it; and when she does -that you may give up your point. You have no idea how poor we are, -Helen." - -Helen thought she had some glimmering idea—they could not be poorer -than she was!!! her uncle having borrowed all her earnings, (with the -exception of a few shillings), shortly after her arrival. - -"What becomes of the rent?" she asked. - -"Oh, I don't know! It's paid to papa." - -"And the money for the grazing?" - -"Is paid to him also," admitted Katie reluctantly. - -"And what has uncle done with his time all these years?" she asked -impatiently. - -"Rome was not built in a day," rejoined Katie rather confusedly. "I -believe he is making something marvellous, and that it is nearly -completed. Of course we are pinched now, but we shall be rich some day. -I don't grumble, neither does Dido; for we believe the Padré will be -the great man of the age, and that in years to come, we shall be known -as the daughters of the celebrated Malachi Sheridan!" - -Helen noticed, (not for the first time) that Katie generally talked -fluently of her father in her sister's absence; indeed Dido rarely -alluded to him; on the contrary, she would turn the subject rather -abruptly, when it touched upon him or his pursuits. - -"Dido is not quite so sanguine as she used to be," said Katie, slowly -filtering a handful of fruit through her fingers. "She has never been -the same, since the Padré sent away Mr. Halliday,—her lover." - -"Her lover! Dido's lover!" ejaculated Helen. - -"Yes! don't say I told you, but she had one once. She did not meet him -_here_, so you need not stare." - -"Perhaps she may not like you to tell me any more—so please _don't_," -entreated Helen, with extraordinary self-denial. - -"Oh, it's no matter!—it's no secret, the Reids and every one know all -about it. It happened two years ago. After papa's long illness—Dido -was completely worn out with nursing him, and the doctor said she must -have a change to the seaside—and as the Rectory people were going -to Portrush she went with them, and was away for two months—it was -there she met him. He had some appointment in India, and was only on -six months' leave. She came home looking quite beautiful—even Barry -remarked it—and she was engaged to Mr. Halliday—providing papa made -no objection. He wrote to the Padré, a very nice letter I believe, -and what do you think the Padré did? he tore it up into little bits, -enclosed it in an envelope, and sent it back by the next post!" - -"Oh!" groaned Helen, "how frightful! and was Mr. Halliday nice?" - -"_Very_ nice.—Of course I don't go by Dido,—but the Reids were -enchanted with him. He came here, nothing daunted, and insisted on -papa giving him an audience. I was out—just my luck—but Biddy told -me they were shut up in the drawing-room for an hour, and that she -heard the Padré roaring and raving like all the bulls of Bashan. At -last Mr. Halliday came out, looking very white and queer; he had a long -interview with Dido,—and then he went away. Poor Dido, how she used -to cry at night! She told me that Mr. Halliday wanted her to marry him -right off, without papa's consent; as there was nothing against him, -and he was ready to take her out to India then and there and give her a -happy home, and she said she would have gone—only for one reason——" - -"And what was that?" - -"I've been trying to find out for two years, and never discovered it -yet." - -"I wonder what it could have been?" said Helen, musingly—"want of -money?" - -"No! I'm sure it was not that, Mr. Halliday is rich. I've tried to -guess it, and I've given it up at last as a bad job." - -"And so," said Helen to herself, "her merry, lively cousin Dido—whose -wit and spirits rarely failed her—had had what Katie would call 'a -disappointment,' too!" - -"This can is quite full, so come along," said that young lady, rising -with joyous activity. "Thank goodness, these are the last of these -odious raspberries for this year." - -The two girls had locked the garden gate, and were crossing the yard, -carrying the can of fruit between them, when they were nearly knocked -down, by Sally and Andy, who came running frantically in an opposite -direction, and without the smallest apology dashed through the back -door, which they slammed loudly after them. Prompted by very excusable -curiosity, the spectators followed by the same entrance, and discovered -Andy in the middle of the kitchen, looking as if his wits had entirely -departed, and Sally wiping the perspiration from her face with the -corner of her apron, and loudly expounding some terrible experience to -Dido and her aunt. - -"Oh, save us and send us, Miss Katie!" she exclaimed as she entered, -"I'm after seeing the frightfullest thing that walks above ground! It -was ayther an evil sperrit or the ould wan himself! Oh, musha, musha, I -never get such a turn in mee life! Oh, Andy, darlin', what did we ever -do to bring such a thing about us?" - -But Andy was utterly incapable of making any reply, and stood -trembling, and open-mouthed, in the middle of the floor. - -"But what _was_ it?" demanded Helen, approaching the table and laying -down the can. - -"Well then, miss, I'll just describe it, and I'll lave it to yourself -to put a name on it. Andy and me was down at the far croft, looking at -a sick cow, and were coming home, thinking of nothing in the world, -when all at wanst, I saw within two perch of me, what I thought was a -tree walkin'. I nudged Andy, and we both looked, and sure enough, there -it was, as plain as plain, with big wings reaching down each side, and -a long tail trailing after it;" here she was so overcome by the bare -recollection, that she was obliged to stop and gasp for breath, and -once more apply her apron to her countenance. - -"Well, miss, it went by quietly, within about the length of this -kitchen of us,—and never passed no remark, so we just took to our -heels, and ran for the dear life, and small blame to us. And now, Miss -Dido, av I was to be hung in diamonds, I will never set foot outside -the yard after dark!" she concluded with a whimper. - -"Sally, I wonder at you!" exclaimed Helen, "_I'll_ put a name to it, -fast enough—it was the mule you saw! In the dark he looked larger than -usual, his ears were the wings—they are big enough for anything—his -tail—was just his tail!" - -"Ah now, Miss Helen, get out with your jokes! Is it the mule I'm -driving these eight year, and me not know him? Any way, I saw him in -the harness room as I went out—it was never the mule, it was ayther -Dillon in another form—or——" here she paused significantly, and left -her listeners to complete the sentence for themselves. - -The next evening, Helen was sitting out under a hay-cock, after tea, -reading a venerable magazine. She had had a very fatiguing day, and -overcome by the sultry, drowsy air, she fell fast asleep.—After a -pleasant little doze, she awoke with a guilty start, and discovered -that the stars were out, and the midges had gone in, that the air -had become chill,—and that she had been asleep. Somewhat ashamed -of herself, she rose, picked up her book, replaced her hat, and was -turning towards the house, when a curious trailing, whirring noise on -the grass, arrested her attention. Glancing behind her, she beheld what -seemed to be a colossal, winged figure, pacing the sward within ten -yards of her recent nest. A figure somewhat resembling old Father Time, -with pinions which rose and fell, expanded, or collapsed at will. She -stood and stared, in blank bewilderment. The creature, like a gorged -vulture, appeared to be making futile efforts to rise from the ground -and fly! but, in spite of its exertions, and violent, almost passionate -flapping of its wings, it still remained a prisoner to mother earth. -_What_ was it? Was it as Sally had suggested? Her heart stood still, -for she now beheld it moving towards her! she felt her knees giving way -beneath her,—her hair rising on her forehead; she leant against the -hay-cock for support, and tightly closed her eyes. Hearing no sound for -the space of a minute, she ventured to open them once more, and it was -nowhere to be seen. Seizing this opportunity, she flew across the lawn, -and darted into the candle-lit, ever-open hall, from thence into the -dining room, where she sank into the nearest chair, gasping for breath. -She had barely recovered the power of speech, and was about to explain -her condition to her astonished cousins, when the door opened gently, -and her uncle came into the room; he stood near the table, and looking -at her fixedly with his coal-black eyes, said, in his usual slow way,— - -"I'm afraid I alarmed you somewhat, niece—you saw me just now trying -the apparatus." - -Helen gazed at him blankly, unable to utter a word. - -"You look quite foolishly startled; but come with me, and you shall be -completely reassured. Dido and Katie," addressing his daughters, "rise -and follow me, my children, and behold with your own eyes the fruit of -my labours!" - - - - -CHAPTER XXXVI. - -"THE APPARATUS." - - "The flighty purpose never is o'ertook." - - _Macbeth._ - - -THE three girls lost no time in responding to this invitation; they -crossed the hall, passed through the door connecting it with the -Castle, and ascended a rugged, spiral stone staircase in the wake of -Mr. Sheridan, who preceded them at a swift pace,—carrying a light in -his hand. Halting on the first landing, he threw open a door, and said -to his niece,— - -"This is my library. Here I think, calculate, and write. This room has -been the birth-place of many a glorious inspiration." - -By the glimmer of one candle, Helen made out a large apartment that -seemed to contain nothing but books. They lined the walls, loaded the -tables, and covered the floor. Here and there they stood in untidy -stacks, as if cart-loads of volumes had been shot about the room at -random. The books were doubtless ancient, for a disagreeable odour of -fusty paper and mouldy leather, impregnated the atmosphere, and Helen -was glad to withdraw to the chill but less oppressive staircase, when -her uncle, with a dangerous wave of his composite, said,— - -"Now let us ascend to the '_Locus in quo_'—in short, to the -laboratory." - -When they reached their destination they found the same wild disorder -reigned there as they had just witnessed below. A forge and bellows, a -carpenter's bench and tools, a lathe, quantities of peculiar-looking -bottles,—presumably containing chemicals; a furnace, steel tools, -newspapers, lumps of coal, bits of whalebone, and the remains of Mr. -Sheridan's dinner on a tray were all mixed up together in extraordinary -confusion. In the middle of the room stood a large table, on which lay -a mysterious object, concealed by a red cover. It was something long, -something broad; but all further speculation was ended by Mr. Sheridan -delicately raising the cloth, and solemnly displaying what looked like -a pair of umbrellas blown inside out! - -"I suppose you know nothing of aerostation?" he said gravely, -addressing his niece. - -She shook her head; shameful to state, the very name was new to her. - -"It is the art—as yet in its infancy—of travelling through the air; -an art that has ever baffled mankind. In me,"—pointing to his beard -with a long forefinger,—"you see the fortunate inventor of a pair -of wings, by means of which I hope shortly to make the first aerial -voyage—and fly to Dublin." - -To an ordinary listener, this announcement would have seemed the mere -raving of a Bedlamite; but the three girls were profoundly impressed by -the inventor's voice, and presence, and enthusiastic belief in himself, -and they hung upon his words, with parted lips, and awe-struck eyes. - -"It is quite true," he resumed, "that Borelli and Liebnitz, both -denied the possibility of any man's flying. But Bacon and Wilkin, -thought as _I_ do," he added with a nod that implied,—"and so much the -better for _them_!" - -"Observe this," now tenderly holding up a wing. (It was of immense -length, and seemed surprisingly light and flexible.) "Here it is -annexed to the shoulders, by means of mechanical contrivances; these -springs, and a certain amount of muscular exertion, waft a human body -into the elements! _Once_ fairly afloat, a very slight effort, similar -to a bird's, will keep one going for hours! The first ascent is the -principal,—and indeed, I may say,—only difficulty. Fairly poised in -the air, the process is ludicrously simple. The main idea is, to attach -to one's person some mass, which, by being lighter than air, raises -itself, and the annexed incumbrance. But these details are rather -beyond your mental grasp. To be brief, this little contrivance of mine -blows into atoms all other modes of human locomotion—trains, steamers, -carriages, bicycles,—their fate is sealed. We shall all be as the -birds of the air in future. The boon to humanity will be incalculable; -and, believe me, the day predicted by good Bishop Wilkin is not far -distant, when every man who is going a journey, will call for his -_wings_, just as he now calls for his boots!" - -"I hope you will make us each a pair, papa," said Katie, "whenever your -own are finished." - -To this request her parent vouchsafed no notice, but continued to -expound with increased animation with one hand, as he held up a pinion -in the other. - -"Roger Bacon, the greatest genius the world has seen since Archimedes, -was confident that it was possible to make instruments for flying, and -that a man with wings, sitting in the middle thereof and steering with -a rudder, may pass through the air. I quote from his _Opus Magnus_, -which he wrote in the form of a letter, to that enlightened prelate, -Pope Clement the Fourth!" - -If anything had been needed to convince Helen and her cousins of the -practicability of the matter in question, the mention of Roger Bacon -was sufficient; and Mr. Sheridan, noting the expression of reverent -attention on their faces, was kindled to still greater enthusiasm. - -"Bacon was a marvellous man! it is true that he indulged in chimerical -notions with regard to prolonging life, and placed some confidence in -astrology, yet the imputation on his character, of a leaning to magic -was totally unfounded. He studied languages, logic, and mathematics; -his information was exhaustive, his premises sound, as in the case in -point," waving his hand dramatically towards the table. "And now, my -children, I will attach these wings to my shoulders, in order that -you may be convinced of their extraordinary value, and of the amazing -dignity which they impart to the human body! Dido, light another -candle. No,—no assistance is required,—I can adjust them myself." - -Helen and her cousins, looked on with breathless interest, whilst Mr. -Sheridan deftly arranged and strapped on the apparatus. Then he held -himself erect before them, and commenced to pace up and down a cleared -space at the end of the room, and as he paced to and fro, he continued -to expound as volubly as ever, on the importance of his prodigious -discovery. - -If any cool-headed, matter-of-fact persons had happened to climb the -ivy, and look in through the shutterless window, and "discovered" the -room dimly lit by two candles (placed on the ground), the gray-robed -figure with trailing wings, lecturing with outstretched hands to a -group of eager-eyed girls,—they would have unhesitatingly declared, -that they were witnessing the exploits of the inmates of some private -lunatic asylum. - -"My dear children," continued Malachi in an impressive tone, "in me you -see, the instrument of introducing a discovery that will be of untold -benefit to all mankind—wherever the wind blows, it will carry the name -of Malachi Sheridan. Of course aerostation is as yet in its infancy," -tenderly stroking one of his pinions as he spoke, "but everything -must have a beginning. Look at railways; they had _their_ origin in -an ordinary domestic kettle, and behold they now cover the face of -the globe; this invention has to do with air, and like that element, -is—sublime! I have made an exhaustive study of air currents; there are -certain places where there is a continual brisk movement in various -directions! these will be the termini, the junctions of departure, -the same as Waterloo or Euston—but again let me not take you out of -your intellectual depth.—See how easily the apparatus works," he -exclaimed, pulling a small cord; and it became evident, that he could -extend or compress, his huge appendages at will. Now they towered above -his head—now they spread out—and now they collapsed, with marvellous -facility. - -"Night is the only time, in which I can as yet venture abroad," he -said regretfully, "and there is something unsympathetic in the chill -atmosphere after dusk, that is discouraging to aerial attempts. Would -that I could go forth in full daylight, and spread out my pinions to -the sun!" - -"If you came into the garden, when Andy was at his dinner, you might -manage it easily, papa.—We will keep guard at the gate," said Katie, -the ever practical. - -"I'll—see—about it—yes, yes, it may be done! And you, Dido, my -daughter, shall now have your heart's desire. These will bring you -riches—money—money in millions. Do not deny, Dido, that money is your -idol; you worship money," he added, gazing at her austerely. - -"I, papa!" she cried. "Oh, no!" - -"Then why do you annoy me with your prayers and tears, craving money, -money, money? What is money? A few miserable pounds of yellow ore; and -they tell me that it makes a man happy! Miserable, miserable, wretch!" -he exclaimed with angry scorn. - -"But, indeed, papa——" - -"There, that is sufficient!" he shouted, with a fiery flash of his -black eyes. - -"Niece Helen," turning to her, after a somewhat awkward interval, and -surveying her critically, "you will doubtless make a graceful aerial -figure. Let me assure you that a happy day is coming, when you may wing -your way back to tropical lands, and migrate at pleasure, like the -swallows, and the wild geese." - -Here he paused, and flapped his pinions so successfully, that both -candles were instantly extinguished, and the company were left in outer -darkness. Dead silence ensued, which lasted about a minute. - -"Dido, you know your way," said her father at length in his ordinary -tone, "never mind the lights, the matches are below.—Go; I will no -longer detain you, my children. I have some important details to -accomplish that will occupy me for hours. Go—good-night, good-night." - -Thus imperiously dismissed by this voice from the gloom, the three -girls groped their way slowly, and carefully, downstairs, and finally -into the hall, where, sitting down on the first seats they could find, -they sat and stared at one another, in solemn silence. Of course Katie -was the first to speak. - -"I wonder if this will come to anything?" she exclaimed. "It's very -wonderful,—but then the Padré always thinks of things that never occur -to other people!" - -"It does seem to be a marvellous discovery," said Dido, in anything but -a triumphant key. Was it the light, or what, that made her face look -quite anxious and careworn? "Of course we won't mention what we have -seen to a soul! eh, Helen?" glancing nervously at her cousin. - -Helen nodded her head in impressive assent, but made no audible answer. -Down among commonplace surroundings, and away from the spell of that -imposing winged figure, with its sonorous quotations from Bacon and -Wilkin—cold distrust came whispering into her ear. Could it be -possible that she had discerned the mysterious reason, that held Dido -to her duty? Could it be possible, that her uncle Malachi was _mad_? - - - - -CHAPTER XXXVII. - -"IN CONFIDENCE." - - "No hinge, nor loop, - To hang a doubt on." - - _Othello._ - - -THIS is Dido Sheridan's birthday.—She is twenty-four years old to-day. -Her cousin Helen's offering is to take the shape of this hat, which -she is engaged in trimming with somewhat anxious feelings. This straw -hat, a bunch of daisies, and a few yards of cream-coloured lace, have -swallowed up her very _last_ shilling, and there she sits, pinning, and -twisting, and unpinning and untwisting, in the greatest perplexity. Her -thoughts are running upon charming constructions, that she had seen in -milliners' windows in Bond Street, that looked so simple and yet were -so effective (and so expensive). How were they put together? Certainly -_not_ by amateur fingers, my dear young lady! After a long struggle, -sheer perseverance was rewarded by a result that would pass admirably -in Terryscreen, if not in Tyburnia. "Yes, it really looks very nice," -she said to herself aloud as she held it up critically. Then, of -course, she went over to the glass and tried it on! The next thing was -to see how it suited Dido? so she walked to the door, and called "Dido" -in her clearest treble. - -"She's out in the garden, miss," returned a voice from the dining-room, -"with a parcel of hucksters from Terryscreen; they are after the apples -and onions." - -Helen reached her hat from its peg, and ran down the steps, and in -another moment was at the garden gate. There, in the middle walk, -beside the sun-dial, stood Dido, rake in hand, sun-bonnet on head, -solemnly bargaining with two weather-beaten women, whilst Darby Chute -sat on the side of a wheel-barrow, and listened, and looked on, with a -cunning and diverted countenance. Properly speaking, this selling of -fruit and vegetables "all standing" was Andy's legitimate business; -but, unfortunately, Andy was not to be trusted with finance! He had -been known to ask half-a-crown for a head of cabbage, and to sell a -whole plot of cauliflowers for three half-pence! - -"You are very stiff to-day, Miss Dido," expostulated one of her -customers. "Shure, I bought all Mr. Reid's apples at a shillin' a -hundred, and you are talking of two! I wish I was sellin' to you." - -"_Our_ apples are the best in the country, Mrs. Carmody. You get a -penny a piece for them, I know, and I cannot let you have them for less -than what I say." - -"Here's your cousin Helen a-coming," wheezed Darby. "Sure she thinks -she's sharper than the whole houseful put together. Maybe she'll drive -a bargain for ye, Miss Dido! Avick!" - -"Oh, indeed, the less _you_ say about bargains, Darby, the better," -retorted Helen severely. "I wonder you were not ashamed to bring home -such a price for those calves!" - -"Shure, I can't help the prices, miss; calves is down—all stock is -down, and what does a beautiful young English lady like you know about -farming?" - -"Not much, indeed! but I used to go marketing in London, and I paid -thirteen pence a pound for veal; and fancy a great big calf selling for -twenty shillings! It's ridiculous!" - -"I met Miss Katie and Misther Barry on the road there below," said -Darby, clumsily turning the subject. "She was perched up on the back -of his horse—on his saddle—and mighty unaisy she looked; faix, and -so did the horse! All at wanst it gave a little lep, and down she came -on the top of Misther Barry. Oh, she was not a happorth the worse—she -fell into his arms! The horse tore off home, and Mr. Barry was left -raging! I laughed, till I haden't an eye in me head!" - -Helen looked at him indignantly, and turning to her cousin said, "Dido, -your hat is ready, come and try it on!" - -"Mrs. Carmody, you can take the beans and the cabbages at your own -price—I'm going in now," said Miss Sheridan, taking her cousin's arm, -and so departing. - -"Mrs. Mooney and Mrs. Carmody expect to get the things for nothing. I -don't know which of them is the greatest skinflint! And Darby just sat -there grinning, and never helped me a bit. He was worse than useless!" - -"Never mind Darby, but come into the drawing-room and put on your hat; -you can see yourself beautifully in the glass over the chimney-piece!" - -"It looks lovely,"—taking it up admiringly. "Yes,"—advancing to the -mirror—"and it suits me too! What do _you_ think?" - -Helen ascended to the fender-stool, so as to have a good view, and to -be enabled to give her cousin the benefit of her candid opinion. - -"I had no idea you were so clever, with your fingers," continued Dido; -"I won't know myself in a new hat. This will come in nicely for Mr. -Redmond's tennis party next week. I should not be a bit surprised if we -meet _my nephew_ there!" and she laughed merrily. - -Of course all this time she was contemplating herself in the glass—and -lifting her eyes to her cousin's reflection, to her astonishment she -noticed that she coloured to the roots of her hair! With a sudden flash -of comprehension she wheeled right about and looked at her curiously! -but Helen moved hastily away, and walking towards the window said,— - -"Those daisies are too much at one side, they must come out." - -"Never mind the daisies, Helen! I'm going to be very impertinent—I'm -going to be as bad as Barry. I'm going to guess something about _you_." - -"Guess what?" sitting down in the window seat, and turning as if at bay. - -"Guess something about 'my nephew.' Why did you blush just now, and why -is he the only person you met at Port Blair, whom you never mention? -Well, well," in answer to the expression of her cousin's face, "I see -you don't like it, so I won't say any more. If you don't wish to give -me your confidence I won't try to steal it." - -After a moment's hesitation she added, with averted face,— - -"I suppose Katie has told you all about _me_?" - -"Yes, poor Dido! it was a hard, hard case," replied Helen, gently -taking her hand. - -Dido sighed, and nodded her head, and then remarked, in quite a -cheerful voice, "I try not to think of it—it could not be helped." - -An unusually long silence succeeded this speech, and at last Helen -said, "What I am going to tell you, Dido, I have never spoken of -before, not even to papa. I have never put my—my—experience—into -words—yet. I wonder very much how it will sound, both to you, and me. -No! You must not gaze at me like that, or I shall never be able to tell -it. Look out of the window and listen. Dido," lowering her voice to a -whisper, "you were right about Mr. Lisle." - -"Yes," nodding her head with quick assent. - -"You know everything about my life out there, all excepting—_that_. -He was at the Andamans when I arrived, but I did not meet him for a -month or more. He lived far away on the mainland—he did not go into -society; and because he was silent and shabby, people thought he was -an impostor, or some needy adventurer, or that he was hiding from his -creditors—if not worse—so he was a kind of social outlaw." - -"What! Mr. Lisle, with his thousands a year!" cried her listener in a -key of angry astonishment. - -"Yes; and he never undeceived any one—I suppose he was laughing in his -sleeve all the time. He told me once that he rather enjoyed living in -the Palace of Truth, and being valued for his appearance alone,—and -rated according to his wardrobe! especially his hat!" - -"And when did you meet him?" - -"We met one evening, on a kind of savage coast, where I was -accidentally deserted by a picnic party. I was nearly mad with fright, -and luckily for me, Mr. Lisle's boat was passing, and he saw me, and -took me off. On our way home we came in for an awful storm; over and -over again I thought we should have been drowned, but after the most -dreadful hour I ever spent, he landed me safely on Ross pier." - -"Yes!—well, that was certainly a romantic beginning. Go on." - -"Then he came and called. Papa liked him. Yes, and so did I. He was so -different to other people; he had a distinct personality of his own. He -had read and travelled, and kept his eyes open. He put old things in a -new light; in short, he was charming to talk to, and I was always glad -whenever he came and spoke to me,—though it was not very often. At one -time, he ventured over to the station tennis parties, and was quite -callous to Mrs. Creery's snubs and Lizzie Caggett's scowls. Then for -weeks he would disappear." - -"And all this while had he ever said anything?" inquired Dido with the -authority of a girl, who had had an authenticated proposal. - -"He never paid me a single compliment in his life; but I believed he -liked me." - -"And you liked him?" - -Helen made no direct answer, but continued her tale, and her cousin -accepted her silence for the proverbial consent. - -"At length we had a grand ball, my first and only dance. To every one's -amazement, Mr. Lisle appeared in irreproachable evening dress, and -danced nearly the whole evening." - -"With _you_, of course?" - -"No; with a married lady, a Mrs. Durand." - -"Well, I must say, that I think that was rather peculiar." - -"Oh! but I found out afterwards that they had known each other as -children, and been old playmates and friends. I confess I was angry, -and—very, well—I suppose jealous. Afterwards I danced the last -waltz with him, almost in spite of myself, and when it was over we -walked up the island in the moonlight. Dido," suddenly raising her -eyes to her cousin's, "I shall never forget that night if I live to -be a hundred! The look of the sea, the stillness, the fire-flies, and -the moon, bright as day, casting sharp shadows of palms, and cactus -plants, across our path. I shut my eyes, and I can see it _now_. Then -we talked. He told me that he was going away the next day—a trip to -the Nicobars. He also told me that he understood that I was going to -be married to Mr. Quentin, whom you know I detest,—and offered me his -congratulations! Of course I denied this indignantly, and he seemed -positively not inclined to believe me at first, and then—and then—he -asked me. He told me—I need not go on—Dido, _you_ understand the -rest!" - -"And am I to understand that you said 'Yes'?" - -"I believe so." - -"You had no idea who he really was all the time?" - -"I knew he was a gentleman, that he was well educated, and well bred; -like every one else, I thought he was poor, but that made no difference -to me." - -"You never dreamt that he was the Honourable Gilbert Lisle, with about -twelve thousand a year?" - -"Never! He was commencing to tell me something, when Mrs. Creery -swooped down upon us, and carried me off." - -"Hateful old woman! And afterwards?" - -"We never had an opportunity of speaking till the very last moment. He -followed me towards our bungalow, and said he would come over and see -papa early the next morning, before he sailed if possible. If not to -look for him in six weeks time,—and to be sure not to forget him." - -"Well?" ejaculated her listener breathlessly. - -"That was nearly two years ago.—I have never seen him since." - -"What?" cried Dido, jumping to her feet, and tossing her new hat -passionately down on the sofa. "And you believe that _that_ man was -Gilbert Lisle. He was nothing of the kind! Mrs. Creery and Miss Caggett -were perfectly right. He was an impostor. He and the real Mr. Lisle are -as different as night from day!" - -"But Mr. Lisle was in the Andamans at that time. Mrs. Durand, who was -a great friend of mine, could not be mistaken—it was she, who really -told us who he was, one night at the General's. He was travelling about -in search of amusement. I was a school-girl, and an easy prey—and all -the time he was engaged to Miss Calderwood." - -"He was not, and he is not," retorted Dido, decidedly. "That is only -old Mr. Redmond's pet project—and Katie has got some silly idea into -her head because she saw them riding together once or twice; for that -matter, so did I! She looked as cross as two sticks, and he looked -bored to death; she told me once, in a burst of confidence, you know -her style of being one's bosom friend one day and cutting you dead the -next?" - -"No, I don't" (shortly), "Miss Calderwood and I never coalesced." - -"Well, she imparted to me that Mr. Lisle had a hateful temper and -unsufferable manners, but that one could not expect everything! I said -to myself, if _you_ expect to be Mrs. Lisle, you will find yourself -excessively mistaken. Mind you, _I_ am speaking of Mr. Redmond's -nephew." - -"So am I." - -"It is incredible that it should be him. Could there have been any -misunderstanding? Did you flirt with any one when he was away?" - -"I flirt? I never did such a thing in my life!" - -"Excepting with poor old Mr. Redmond; his infatuation is really -pitiable," interrupted her cousin with a laugh. "Well, Helen, believe -me, Gilbert Lisle never voluntarily broke his word to man or woman. -There is something in the background that will be explained _yet_. I -have a presentiment about it, and my presentiments are infallible." - -"Do you ever have them about yourself?" - -"No; excepting that I shall live and die an old maid; of course, there -ought to be one in every family." - -"Yes, and I reserve that post for Helen Denis! Now, never mind my -humiliating experience, please tell me something more about Mr. -Halliday?" - -"I fancy Katie has left me but little to tell! I met him at Portrush, -and there was nothing romantic about _our_ first meeting; no rescue -from a jungle; no hairbreadth escape—he was simply taking tea at the -Reids, in the most hum-drum fashion. We used to go for expeditions -along the coast, and sit upon the rocks by the sea, and watch the -waves, or the moon, and talk—_you_ understand the rest!" (smiling -significantly). "And one night, as we were walking home, he asked me to -marry him—oh, Helen, I was so surprised, and so happy! but it did not -last long—" - -"Do you ever hear of him now?" - -"Yes, occasionally, through the Reids; but it is all over.—We shall -never meet again." - -"Well, at least you have the consolation of knowing that he loved you, -and wished to make you his wife; there is some poor satisfaction in -_that_, whilst I," and here she broke down, and buried her face in her -hands. But this emotion was merely momentary; presently she lifted her -face to her cousin, and said, "So you see that I have had a lesson for -life; I shall never, never marry." - -"Neither will I," returned Dido, with much emphasis. - -In the midst of their interesting confidences, and mutual assurances of -celibacy, the door opened, and Biddy's befrilled face was thrust in, -recalling them sharply from romance to reality. - -"Miss Dido, will ye come out, av ye plase! Mrs. Carmody says she'll go -to two shillin' a hundred for them apples, and the onions sixpence a -stone!" - - - - -CHAPTER XXXVIII. - -"SALLY'S SUBSTITUTE." - - "I stood - Among them, but not of them." - - _Childe Harold._ - - -IN a large flagged room on the basement story, Helen, Katie, and old -Biddy, were seated round a well-scoured table, making busy preparations -for the despatch of a creditable "cart" to Terryscreen Market; neat -bunches of salads, bouquets of flowers, and bundles of asparagus, -testify to their industry. As far as the young ladies are concerned, -their labours have been lightened by the interchange of riddles, -chiefly very poor ones, and the worse they were, the more they laughed, -and the more Biddy sniggered. - -"I give up that one, as to what makes more noise than a pig under a -gate!" said Helen, holding an exquisite bouquet of roses towards her -cousin. "There is no answer. The pig could not be beaten." - -"I wish I had some more twine," she added, looking anxiously around. - -"I wish you had, my dear," returned Katie, "but I can do nothing _but_ -wish! My hands are full. There is some in the cup on the chimney-piece -in the office. No, that's _gum_; it's in Dido's desk." - -The office was a little den behind the dining-room, consecrated to -business, and the communings of Dido and Darby. The latter was in the -act of leaving it, when Helen appeared; his face looked more foxy than -usual, and there was a sly smile in his eyes as he said,— - -"And what way are ye the day, Miss Denis?" - -"Busy, Darby, terribly busy; I have half the asparagus to tie up yet, -and not a plum picked." - -"Shure 'tis nothing but divarshion for the like of yees," he rejoined -contemptuously. "An I would not grudge to see you young ladies so -entirely fond of flowers and gardening—'Tis a nice quiet taste." - -"Divarshion, indeed? There's little divarshion in picking gallons of -fruit in the blazing sun—and as to the wasps! but I'm in a hurry, -Darby, I have not a moment to spare. Please let me pass," she said, now -walking into the little office, where she discovered Dido seated at her -brass-bound bureau, surrounded by papers, and dissolved in tears. - -"What on earth is the matter?" she inquired, laying her hand on her -cousin's shoulder. - -"Nothing—nothing at all," hurriedly drying her eyes, and averting her -face. - -"Come, Dido, I am certain that you are the last girl to cry for -nothing. What is it? Won't you tell me? Two heads are better than one. -Is it these accounts?" - -"It is just this, Helen," wheeling round with sudden energy, "I've come -to the conclusion that it is hopeless to go on struggling any longer, -and trying to make both ends meet; I strive, and strive, to keep out -of debt—we spend next to nothing on ourselves, as you know, and when -I think I am getting my head above water at last, down comes something -and pushes me under, such as a big bill that I never expected, and -that nearly breaks my heart. Look at this," holding out a rather dirty -scrawl, "here is one now, and Darby says it must be paid at once. And I -did not even know it was owing. It's for seed-potatoes, and guano, and -wire to keep out the rabbits—altogether eleven pounds," she concluded -with a little sob. - -"Eleven pounds!" ejaculated her cousin, taking it up and examining it. - -"I notice that it is made out by Darby—does not that strike you as -rather peculiar?" - -"Oh, no; he always does it," returned Dido, (the unsuspicious,) pulling -out a little drawer as she spoke. - -"See! I have only three shillings, till after to-morrow, and these -Murphys declare they can't wait any longer than Monday—they are -pressed themselves, and Darby says they _must_ be paid. To hear him -talk, one would think I had only to go out and pick up sovereigns on -the gravel!" - -"Then let uncle pay," said Helen sternly, "it's not more than the price -of one of his old books. I do think, Dido, that it is rather hard that -you should have to work for the support of the whole family, and that -all the income from the place goes, I may say, on _air_! Barry told me -that, even as it is, it brings in a thousand a year." - -Dido made no immediate answer, but sat resting her chin on her hand, -and gazing fixedly out of the window. At length she seemed to have come -to some settled decision, for she rose and said, "I think I will try -the Padré once more; it's rather a forlorn hope, but nothing venture, -nothing have. Wait here till I come back, Helen," and with a melancholy -little nod she quitted the room. - -Helen sat down in her cousin's chair in front of the old bureau, -with its inky baize desk, and numerous musty drawers; and noted with -feelings of hot indignation, the traces of Dido's tears—tears that -had splashed unchecked upon the leaves of an open account-book. -Sitting here before these tear-stained columns, she asked herself -dispassionately if a man who had brought forth nothing but second-hand -inventions, after forty years of costly experiments, was likely to -revolutionize the universe at last? - -No, she had no patience with his concentrated selfishness, and _no_ -faith in the apparatus. As to Darby Chute, she had never trusted him, -and although she had no solid grounds for her suspicions, yet she could -not divest herself of the idea, that he was a rascal! She was aware -that Darby did not eye _her_ with any favour, and indeed he had more -than once made craftily-veiled inquiries as to _when_ she was going -away? - -"It was no use," said Dido, entering the room, and shaking her -head hopelessly. "I knew it. He just held up empty hands. That is -his invariable answer when I beg for a little money. It will just -have to be, as Darby says," sitting down, and looking at her cousin -despondently, "we must sell the white cow." - -"Not the one I call _my_ cow; not Daisy?" cried Helen in consternation. - -"Yes; she is the best of them all. She will fetch the most money. Darby -thinks we might get twenty pounds for her at the fair to-morrow. There -is no use in putting off the evil day, and I hate to owe a penny. I -cannot sleep if I am in debt." - -"You should see what some girls owe, and how they sleep," said her -cousin, thinking of the Miss Platts, and how very lightly their -milliner's accounts lay on their minds. "Is there no resource but -Daisy? Can you suggest nothing else?" - -"Nothing, unless—" and she hesitated and coloured—"unless I borrowed -the money from you, and I would not do that, for I might never be able -to pay you. No; there is nothing for it but Daisy!" - -"My dearest Dido," said Helen, putting her arm round her neck, "what a -horribly mean wretch you must think me all this time. Don't you _know_ -very well, that every farthing I possess, would have been in the common -purse months ago, only—only—uncle borrowed all my money the day after -I came here." - -"What do you say?" cried Dido, jumping to her feet. "Oh, no, Helen; oh, -_surely_ he did not! Oh!" in great distress, and her eyes filling with -tears. "This is worse than all! This is _too_ bad. Oh, my dear, foolish -child, why did you let him know you had a farthing?" - -"He asked me, and what could I say?" - -"He has such odd ideas about money. He looks upon it as a kind of -common property, and he has all kinds of queer, wild schemes about -abolishing it altogether.—Was it much?" she asked anxiously. - -"Never mind, Dido, how much. The loss is yours, dear; not mine. It -would have been in your hands long ago, only for this." - -"Helen," said her cousin, looking very pale, "I can speak to you, as I -can to no one else—not even Katie. Papa is not like other people!" - -"No," assented his niece with a very serious face. - -"He was always eccentric; but latterly he has been getting more so. -Sometimes," lowering her voice, and glancing nervously at the door, "he -is——" - -"Yes; I think I understand," nodding her head gravely. - -"Biddy guesses it; so does Barry. Katie suspects nothing, poor child. -I've kept this to myself ever since I've known it," leaning her face on -her hand, and covering her eyes. - -"And that was the reason that you would not listen to Mr. Halliday?" - -"Yes;—mamma dreaded it, and not long before she died she—told me—and -she made me solemnly promise, to guard him as closely as possible, to -keep him near me as long as he had the faintest chance," her voice -dying away to a whisper. - -Helen took her cousin's hand in hers, and her face was full of sympathy. - -"He was only a little strange at times," continued Dido, "especially -about money. But during the last year I have seen it coming, and this -is one reason I've always resisted having Barry to live here, and -taking over the place; this is the reason that I struggle with all my -might to keep him and the Padré apart, for if he and Barry were to meet -constantly, Barry would _know_, and Barry would immediately insist upon -what is only to be the last resource. I promised mamma," here Dido -broke down, and leaning her head against her cousin's shoulder, wept -miserably. - -"My poor Dido!" said Helen, smoothing her hair tenderly. "What a burden -you have had to bear all alone, and how noble, and unselfish, and -patient you have been. When I think of you, and think of myself, I am -bitterly ashamed! I have been latterly entirely wrapped up in myself, -and my own affairs, I never seem to give a thought to other people, -and you—you have renounced your own happiness for the benefit of -others——" - -"I am not unhappy," interrupted Dido, drying her eyes; "or, at any -rate, I would not be, if he was getting better; but he is getting -_worse_, much worse—I see it coming nearer and nearer!" and she looked -up at her companion with pallid lips and startled eyes. "For days, when -you do not see him, he is sitting still in the workshop, and never -opens his lips. I carry him up his meals, and he takes no notice. -Other times he has delusions. Not long ago, when I went up to speak -to him, I found him pacing up and down the room, shouting into a long -tube; he would not answer when I spoke, but at last he went and wrote -on a bit of paper, '_Leave me, mortal, I am the trumpet of Fame!_' - -"See," searching in her bureau, "here it is! I brought it away -unintentionally, and then I hid it here, I don't know why." - -Helen gazed at this proof of her uncle's mental aberration with -startled eyes, and then she said quietly,— - -"I think the time has arrived when something ought to be done. Uncle -should have an experienced person to look after him, and surely _you_ -might manage the money." - -"Yes! Barry must know at last, and Katie, and every one," said Dido, -tearing up the scrap of paper with a sigh; "but to-day he is as sane -as I am, and as busy as possible over the apparatus, he may not have -another attack for a long time. Let us put it out of our heads. Don't -think of it, we will talk of something else. I must send word to Darby -this evening about Daisy; twenty pounds is the least——" - -"Dido, Dido!" cried her sister, bursting into the room, "come down -this moment; Sally has fallen over the step in the dairy and sprained -her ankle, she is lying groaning on the settle in the kitchen, and she -won't be able to stir to-morrow?" - -"Oh, of course!" exclaimed Dido, starting up. "Do misfortunes ever come -alone?" - -Half an hour later, the three girls were standing together looking -blankly at their preparation for the morrow's market. There lay golden -butter, cream-cheeses, pounds of honey, bouquets of flowers, and last, -but not least, their precious stock of grapes—grapes nursed through -the winter, in a windy old vinery, with a tenderness they had but ill -repaid. - -"Is Sally's ankle very painful?" inquired Helen after a long pause. - -"Yes; I've bathed it with arnica, but she won't be able to put her foot -to the ground for a week." - -"Could Andy go?" - -"Andy, my dear girl, wouldn't set foot in Terryscreen to save his life; -he was in jail there! It's just our luck, the best cart of the season! -I'd take it myself, only I would be known. There would be no real -disgrace in doing it—it's ten times more shameful to owe money." - -"There's nothing for it but to put away what will keep, and to use the -rest ourselves," said Katie, the ever practical. - -After a moment's silence, Helen said suddenly, "Look here, Dido, why -should not _I_ take the cart?" - -"You!" shrieked her cousin. "Are you mad?" - -"Now, just please to listen quietly, both of you," she returned with -decision. - -"In the first place, I'm a stranger to all but the Reids and -Redmonds—that's one point," reckoning on her fingers. "In the second, -I can get myself up in character so that you would never know me. -Thirdly, I flatter myself that my brogue is undeniable. Fourthly, I've -plenty of confidence. Fifthly, I mean to go." - -"Helen, you are not serious?" said Dido, gravely. - -"Never more so, my dear.—I know the market prices as well as -yourselves. I shall dress myself up in an old garden frock and -sun-bonnet, and you will see if I don't pass off as a good-looking -slip of a country girl. You know very well you can't tell my brogue -from Sally's in the dark, so I will be your market woman, ladies, and -come home to-morrow with my pocket full of money, 'an ye may make your -minds quite aisy about me,'" suddenly adopting a brogue and dropping -a curtsey. "No one will know a hate about it, barrin' the Masther and -meeself." - -At this her cousins burst out laughing, and finding that she was so -sanguine, and so resolute, and that all their expostulations were -uttered to deaf ears, they submitted to the scheme without further -demur. Of course Sally was taken into the secret, and when the subject -was very gently broken to her by her smiling, would-be deputy, at -first she held up her hands dramatically, and invoked both the local -and her own patron saints; but in the end she came round. Her thrifty -soul revolted against the wanton waste of all her beautiful cheese -and butter, and presently she was instructing Helen (who sat beside -the settle, gravely attentive), with immense animation, and impressive -authority. - -"You'll find the Masther very tough to drive, miss, but he knows every -stone of the road, and is acquainted with all the shops, so ye may just -lave it to himself; there does be no use in prodding him, or striving -to drive him, for his mouth is as hard as the heart of Pharaoh,—and he -is that detarmined in his own way, that nations would not hould him! -First and foremost, ye go to Clancy's with the butter and the eggs, an' -you'll not take less than a shilling a pound, dear, and sevenpence the -dozen. She'll bate you down, seeing you are strange, and it's not Sally -MacGravy she has to dale with! but just you say, 'Divil a copper less -you'll take,' and let on you are going to Dooley's across the street. -Afther that I'm thinking you will never be able to stand forenint the -fruit and vegetables in the square, so ye might go over to Dooley's -in _earnest_ and offer him the vegetables and fruit chape; that's in -raison, do ye mind. Then there's the grapes and flowers, I don't know -what to say about them at all! They must just take their chance; it's -the butter that's lying so heavy on me! With regard to the cowcumbers, -and honey, and cream-cheeses, a messman does be in from barracks, a -fellow with an eye like a needle in his head, and the deuce for bating -you down. Then, wance in a way, ye have the officers' ladies; them's -the wans for the flowers, and you'll mind to charge them double, -darlin'! that's about all," concluded Sally, coming to the end of her -instructions, and her breath, simultaneously. - -Next morning, at grey dawn, Helen was astir and dressed; her cousins, -who had hardly been able to sleep a wink with excitement, attended -her at her early breakfast, poured out her tea, buttered her toast, -and surveyed her appearance with subdued giggles and expressions of -astonished delight. They assured her repeatedly that they would pass -her on the road and never recognize her. She was arrayed in a clean -but faded cotton, turned up over a striped dark petticoat, a pink -sun-bonnet, a white apron, and a little checked shawl. Certainly -she was not quite as _like_ sally as her relations could have -wished—which, considering that Sally was bordering on forty, and -weighed fourteen stone, was not surprising—but they both emphatically -declared that she would readily pass for what she professed to be—"a -good-looking slip of a country girl who had taken Sally's place." - -"Too good-looking, Helen, dear," said Dido, kissing her as she mounted -the cart. "Keep your bonnet pulled well over your eyes, and try and do -not show your teeth when you laugh; and above all stick to the brogue!" - -These were Dido's final injunctions; and she escorted the cart half-way -down the avenue, and then took off her shoe, and threw it after it for -luck. The last glimpse Helen caught of her favourite cousin, she was -hopping along the damp drive, in quest of the said slipper. - -The Master was not to be hurried. Two hours for the five miles was his -_own_ time, lounging along in a leisurely way, in a series of zig-zags -from ditch to ditch. - -It was a lovely August morning; the dew lay heavy on the grass, and -silvery, gossamer cobwebs hung about the hedges. Helen felt her pulses -beating with excitement entirely untouched by fear. A bold adventurous -spirit possessed her; there was something so utterly novel, so -deliciously strange, in her present undertaking; as if she had left -Helen Denis behind, and had embodied herself in a new identity! - -Presently the Master was overtaken and passed by various carts, and -even by pedestrians—who had each, and all, a word for Sally. But this -was not Sally! this was a black stranger, who was not disposed to waste -her time in idle badinage, and who took no more notice of them than the -stick in her hand, and seemed an "impident, stuck-up piece!" However, -it was the Crowmore mule; there was no mistake about _him_—once -seen—never forgotten! - -"Mind that mule," cried one, "or he'll break everything that's on him, -and run away with you!" - -"Faix, and no loss if he does!" retorted another. - -"Musha, an' will ye look at the nate foot and ankle we have, hanging so -aisy and so careless over the side of the shaft! 'Tis a lady we are, -all out! Do ye mind the gloves on her!" - -"Bedad, an' if she is, she looks mighty at home on an ass's car," -shouted a fourth. - -The subject of these and other delicate witticisms, was not sorry -to find herself jogging over the cobble stones of the High Street -of Terryscreen. Greatly to her astonishment, the Master, of his own -accord, rose a beautiful trot for the town, and rattled up in gallant -style to Clancy's, the butter shop. His new driver's heart beat -unusually fast as she alighted, made the reins secure, and taking a -heavy basket on her arm, proceeded to air her brogue in real earnest. - -Early as it was, the place was crowded, and she had some difficulty in -edging her way to the counter, where she was at once confronted by a -big, stout woman, with a merry face, and her hands on her hips, who, -staring at her hard, said,— - -"An' where is Sally the day?" - -"She's hurt her foot," replied her substitute, in a voice that was -scarcely above a whisper. - -"And so you are doing her work?" - -"Just for the time, Mrs. Clancy." - -"From this part of the country, dear?" - -"No; a good bit beyant." - -"Oh, well,"—tasting the butter with her finger and glancing at her -sharply—"butter is down, ye know. Elevenpence." - -"Is it?" innocently. "I am not to go home with less than the shilling." - -"Is that the way with you? Well, we'll say elevenpence halfpenny, -honey!" - -"No, Mrs. Clancy, mam, I really _dar_ not do it!" - -"Well, I see she has ye well schooled, and I suppose you'll just have -to get it! Eighteen pounds did ye say?" now going towards the till—but -being waylaid by a customer, Helen was left to wait among the crowd for -a considerable time. - -Far from every eye being centred on her, as she had tremblingly feared, -no one noticed her by word or glance; and her courage, which had ebbed -as she entered the shop, now came back in full tide. - -The Clancys were driving a roaring trade, if one might judge by -appearances. Their establishment was thronged by men in corduroy and -frieze, and women in long blue cloaks, or plaid shawls, all bargaining, -buying, or gossiping. She was wedged in between the counter and two -stalwart matrons, who were holding forth to one another with great -animation. And oh, how their garments did smell of turf! - -"And what way is Mary the day, Mrs. Daly?" inquired one. - -"'Deed, an' I'm thinking, she is just dying on her feet; first she had -a slight sketch of a cold, now 'tis a melancholy that ails her. John -took her up to Rafferty's funeral, thinking to cheer her out of it, but -she got a wakness standin' in the berryin'-ground, an 'tis worse she -is, instead of better." - -"That's bad! An' how is Dan?" - -"Oh, finely. Shure he has the pledge! Glory be to God!" - -"Musha, an' I wish Pat had! When he comes into the town here, he gits -into that much company there's no daling with him at all. Ye can't -be up to them men! I thought this morning he was getting very good -entirely, when I was in Fagan's store, and saw him and a couple of -chaps drinking coffee. Shure, wasent it that Moody and Sanky they were -at—an' wasent it half whiskey?" - -"Ah! now ye don't tell me that?" - -"An' 'deed, an' I do! I don't say as a needleful of sperrits ever did -any wan any harm—but there does be _some_ would drink the Shannon!" - -"Purviding it was potheen," supplemented her listener, dryly. - -"There's your change, Alannah," called out Mrs. Clancy across the -counter, "and mind ye, it will be elevenpence next week." - -Helen smiled agreeably, nodded her head, and pocketed the silver. Sally -would surely be able to do battle for herself by the following market -day! After a considerable struggle she made her way out of the crowd, -and once more ascended the market-cart. So far so good—the butter and -eggs were off her mind—now for Dooley's, and the vegetables. But, -unluckily, the Master—who was, as we know, an animal of great strength -of character—had determined to trot off to his usual station, near -the Courthouse. Of course Helen could please herself about Dooley's, -but he and the cart went to their accustomed post. The habits of years -were not to be thus trifled with! This clause had not been in the bond. -Helen had meant to have got rid of the fruit and vegetables (even at -a sacrifice) and to have immediately afterwards set her face towards -home—but to stand and sell her wares from the cart in the open market, -was an ordeal that she had never anticipated. However, as she and the -Master came together, together they were bound to return, and her -arrangements were solely dependent on his good pleasure (a somewhat -humbling reflection). For years he had been accustomed to stand for -three hours per week in Terryscreen Market Square, just behind the -Courthouse, and to vary the programme to-day was an idea that never -once entered his grizzled head. His lady driver, who had discovered -that his mouth was all that Sally had prophesied (and more), meekly -abandoned herself to her fate, and having loosened her tyrant's bit, -and administered a "lock of hay," set to work to lay out her wares, -and arrange her stall to the best of her ability. As she gazed around -upon the crowd, and listened to the confused buzz of many brogues, her -head failed her, her boasted confidence seemed to be oozing away at -the tips of her fingers. Supposing she lost her head, supposing she -was discovered? But who was to discover her? argued common sense; and -if she had passed in Clancy's shop, surely she would pass here. She -was doing no harm, quite the reverse; and when she thought of Dido's -difficulties, and Dido's tears, and those three shillings lying in her -desk, and looked round on her fine stock of garden produce, capable of -being turned into silver coin of the realm, she recovered herself, and -by the time she had sold her first head of cabbage, her courage and -_sang-froid_ were completely restored! - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIX. - -"THE MARKET GIRL." - - "We met—'twas in a crowd."—_Haynes Bayley._ - - -HELEN soon discovered that the Crowmore cart had quite an established -reputation; her peas, and beans, strawberries and asparagus commanded -a brisk sale. Customers came flocking round her, and she actually -ventured to retort to some of their sallies with mild replies in kind. - -"Shure, we are all fighting and killing one another to dale with you!" -said a sturdy old farmer, vigorously elbowing his way to the front. -"Aren't we for all the world like flies round a pot of honey! 'Tis -yourself has the jewels of eyes, avick! But why do ye wear gloves?" - -"To keep me hands like a lady's, to be sure," she retorted, promptly. - -"Oh! well, as long as ye don't cover up your face, I don't care a -thraneen! And what are ye asking for the white cabbage?" making an -abrupt descent from blarney to business. - - * * * * * - -Who shall depict the emotions of Larry Flood, when, lounging up to -have a little idle dalliance with his sweetheart, he found himself -confronted by the young English lady? Yes, the young English lady! She -was busily engaged in selling three cauliflowers and a bunch of parsley -to the priest's housekeeper, and seemed just as much at home at the -trade as Sally herself. She looked up and gave him a sign of warning, -and when the press of business had somewhat abated, he sidled over to -her and made the following cautious inquiry in a husky whisper,— - -"In the name of goodness, miss, will ye tell me if I'm in me seven -sinses?" - -"I believe so, Larry," she answered with a merry smile.—"Don't betray -me, for your life! Sally hurt her foot, and I offered to take her place -just for to-day. I'm getting on beautifully you see; and no one is a -bit the wiser." - -"I could not make out what was up!" exclaimed Larry, "there's been a -crowd round the cart as if it was an execution! 'Tis only now I got -next or nigh it. And signs on it! they had raison, for such a sight -as yourself has never before stood on Terryscreen Street. But I don't -like it, miss, no, not for you—you are too venturesome; and if you'll -allow me, miss, I'll try my hand at selling. I'm not for the road -till five o'clock. I'll do my best for ye, and tell as many lies as a -horse-daler, and you might just slip over into the hotel, and they'll -wait on you hand and foot." - -"No, thank you, Larry, though I'm very much obliged to you all the -same. That would never do—never!" - -"Well, I'm not aisy in me mind. It's the fair day, and supposing some -of them young Bostogues come round ye, and gives ye some of their lip?" - -At this disagreeable suggestion the young lady blanched visibly. - -"I shall go home early,—that is to say, as soon as the mule will go," -was her rather enigmatic reply. - -"Early or late, do you see that window over beyant?" pointing to a -ledge in a neighbouring store. "Well, I'll just take me sate there, wid -this whip, an' if I see any one offer to as much as look crooked at ye, -by me sowl! I'll bate him to a _jelly_; and that's as sure as my name -is Flood. So at any rate, miss, ye need not be anxious!" and having -made this alarming announcement, her self-elected protector stalked -away and actually established himself in the said window-sill, where -he sat sentry, with his whip in hand, and his eyes on Helen's stall, -looking daggers at her customers. - -The messman duly came, and purchased lavishly from the new market-girl, -and did not attempt to "bate her down," as had been predicted; on the -contrary, he paid her some very ornate compliments, and lingered so -long that Helen literally trembled lest Larry should misconstrue his -civilities. - -As the morning wore on, it brought some fashionable patrons, among them -several ladies, who, after turning over and sniffing every separate -bouquet, purchased half-a-dozen of the best. During her dealings -with these Helen kept her sun-bonnet well pulled over her eyes, and -commanded her countenance to the best of her ability, whilst they -discussed her appearance in French, and declared that she was the -prettiest Irish girl they had ever seen. The fame of the beautiful -market-girl must have been noised abroad, for several young men came -crowding around the cart, and eagerly demanded "button holes." For -these she charged double prices without the slightest compunction. -(Meanwhile Larry stood in the background armed with his whip!) - -"A shilling!" exclaimed one of the customers, "oh, I say, come, you -must not be getting these extravagant notions into your head, Kathleen -Mavourneen, Eileen Aroon! One would think you had been in Covent -Garden! I suppose you fancy that a pretty girl may charge what she -pleases. Here's two shillings; one for the flowers, and the other for a -good look in your charming face." - -"'Deed," scornfully tossing back a shilling, "An' it's more than any -one will ever ask to lay out on your honour's." - -As the unhappy gentleman was unusually plain, his companions seemed to -experience the keenest delight at this sally, and one of them, pressing -forward, and taking up a bouquet, said,— - -"How much for this, my prickly wild rose?" - -"Two shillings, your honour." - -"Too dear! say eighteen-pence, Acushla ma cree." - -"Sure the times is bad, your honour, and we must live." - -"And where _do_ you live, when you are at home—where do you come from?" - -"Where I'm going back to," she returned, carelessly jingling her silver -in her pockets. - -She was making a fortune; her career so far had been one unbroken -triumph, and her heart beat exultantly as she rattled her shillings -and half-crowns, and complacently surveyed her almost empty cart. -Carrying her glance a little above it, she met point-blank the eyes -of a gentleman on horseback, who was looking over the heads of her -customers. He wore his hat tilted far over his brows, and was gazing -at her with grave, concentrated scrutiny—the man was Gilbert Lisle. -For a moment she stood as if turned to stone, then suddenly wheeling -about and kneeling down, she pretended to tie her shoe-string, but her -fingers trembled so ridiculously, that this was indeed a farce. She -felt a sense of choking panic; nevertheless, she was called upon to -exercise all her self-command, for an officious old crone, who presided -at the next stall, came over and shouted to her, saying,— - -"The gentleman on the horse is spaking to you, Alannah; see here!" -displaying a sovereign that had been thrown among the cabbage-leaves. -"He wants a flower." - -"Tell him they are all gone," she replied, still fiddling with her -shoe-string. However, it was impossible that she could carry on this -pretence much longer—and when with beating heart she at last ventured -to raise her head, he was nowhere to be seen. Was it a dream? no, for -there lay the piece of gold. - -"It's ould Redmond's heir," volunteered her neighbour, eyeing the money -with greedy eyes. "He's a great traveller, he has been away round by -India, where me son is. I've never known him notice the likes of _you_ -before, and I know him man and boy. What ails ye? ye seem to have got a -turn—ye look so white and wake." - -"What would ail me? nothing at all—I'm a bit tired standing so long, -and I'll just sit down on this creel till I see me way to getting out -of the throng." - -"Well, you are easily bet up, I'll say that for you," muttered the -other, moving back to her own stall. "One would think ye wor a lady!" - -It was eleven o'clock, all Helen's stock was disposed of, but for the -present she saw no prospect of making her way through the crowd, and -was compelled to sit, and wait, and listen to the surrounding gabble, -which she did half unconsciously, for her thoughts were centred in her -last customer; from which subject two tall countrymen were the first to -attract her attention. They were standing so close to her that she made -a kind of third party in the conversation, which proved unexpectedly -interesting. - -"What are you doing here, Tim?" inquired one; "sure you have nothing to -sell." - -"An' it's at home I ought to be! with all me barley standing; but sure -I'm drawn for the jury, and bad luck to it." - -"Troth, and so am I! an' I'm due in there," jerking his thumb at the -Courthouse, "at twelve o'clock." - -"Me hands is that full at home, I don't know what to be at first. -However," as if it was some small satisfaction, he added, "the devil a -wan I'll bring in guilty." - -"Nayther will I," agreed his companion, in solemn tones. "I seen Darby -Chute in the day, with a few little bastes and a fine cow," (the name -possessed a spell for Helen, and bound her attention at once). "I met -him coming out of the bank, ere now; 'tis him has feathered his nest." - -"Faix, ye may well say _feathered_," retorted the other, with a loud -laugh; "he does not give the gun much time to cool!" - -"Begorra, it's a shame! an old mad man and a couple of girls—well, if -poor Pat Connor was to rise out of his grave, and see the way things is -going." - -Just as the conversation was becoming most exciting, these two tall -countrymen moved away. Not five minutes afterwards, Darby's own -well-known husky squeak fell upon Helen's ear. Little did he guess who -it was that was sitting with her back to him, in the pink sun-bonnet. -He was accompanied by a companion, and they were evidently about to -clinch some bargain. - -"I'm not very swate on that Scotch whiskey," said the latter, "it has -not the right sort of bite in it to plase _me_! An' now Darby, me boy, -what's the lowest you are going to say for the ould lady?" - -"Ould lady! Holy Saint Patrick, do ye hear him? is it the young, white, -short-horn cow, on her second calf?" - -"I just mane the big bony cow you are striving to stick me with, for -twenty-three pounds." - -Helen pricked up her ears—twenty-_three_ pounds! - -"See here, James Casey, av I was to drop down dead this blessed minute, -I won't take a halfpenny less than the twenty pounds, and only I'm hard -pressed for money, and times is bad, I would drive her home afore me. -She'd be chape at five-and-twenty: a pedigree cow. An' ye know it! so -ye need not be playing with me, as if I was trying to sell you an ould -Kerry Stripper. Take her or lave her, you are keeping others off, and -the fair is getting thin." - -After ten minutes of the fiercest chaffering, and many loud invocations -and denunciations on both sides, the bargain was closed, and to Helen's -great joy, she saw twenty dirty one-pound notes counted into Darby's -horny hand, the price of Daisy. The fair was getting "thin," as he had -said, and as the clock was striking twelve, she and her empty cart -emerged from the _melée_ of pigs, sheep, and turf kishes, and waving a -friendly farewell to Larry, she proceeded homewards at a brisk trot. -Naturally, most of her thoughts were occupied by Gilbert Lisle, and -she was consumed by a burning desire to know if he had recognized her? -Had it been only amazement at a curious likeness that she had read in -that glance?—a glance that revived a spirit that she thought was laid; -it stirred—it recalled days of painful endurance, nights of tears. -"However, that is all at an end now," she assured herself, half aloud. -"Thank goodness I have lived it down." - -She cast one or two apologetic thoughts to Darby Chute; yes, her -conscience smote her with regard to him. Darby, after all, was an -honest, upright man! Hearing is believing, he had done as much to sell -Daisy to good advantage,—as if she had been his own property. - - - - -CHAPTER XL. - -"BARRY'S CHALLENGE." - - "The place is haunted."—_Hood._ - - -THE Master's trot proved to be a mere flash in the pan, and after -a mile the aged animal subsided into his normal pace,—namely, a -desultory and erratic stroll. His driver, wearied by this monotonous -crawl, alighted, and accompanied the cart on foot, walking at the -mule's head, with her sun-bonnet tilted over her face, and her -thoughts miles away—say as far as Ballyredmond. Proceeding in this -somewhat absent fashion, it came to pass, that in turning a corner she -nearly fell into the arms of Barry Sheridan, who, taking her for what -she represented at the first glance, exclaimed, "Hullo, my Beauty, -'tis yourself;" but, "The deuce!" "The devil!" were his concluding -ejaculations, as he recognized the Crowmore mule, and something -familiar in the cut of the market-girl's pink sun-bonnet—not to -mention the face that was under it. Finding herself fairly caught, and -that escape was out of the question, Helen resolved to make a virtue of -necessity, and to brazen it out to the best of her ability. - -"What the mischief does this mean?" he blustered, authoritatively. - -"It means that Sally has hurt her foot," she returned, with complete -composure, and speaking in her natural voice, "and I have been her most -successful substitute." - -"Bother your long words! Do you mean to tell me you have been selling -vegetables and butter in Terryscreen?" - -"I do," she answered gaily. - -"Then, not alone old Malachi, but every mother's son in Crowmore is -mad. I'm blest if I ever saw anything to beat _this_," surveying -Helen, and her costume, and her flatteringly empty cart, with wrathful -amazement. - -"You need not be alarmed, no one recognized me, excepting Larry -Flood—the cat is _still_ in the bag, unless you let it out." - -"What put it into your head to go play-acting about the country, along -with the market-cart? What did you do it for?" - -"Merely to make money; an article that is rather scarce at the Castle. -You hardly suppose that I did it for a joke, do you, or for pleasure?" - -"Well, all I can say is, that if I had anything to say to you——" - -"Which you have not," she interrupted quickly. - -"There you go, as usual—snapping the nose off my face. I was only -saying if I _had_. However, I'm glad enough to meet you in any -shape—alone." - -Helen glanced at him nervously, and waited to hear the sequel to this -rather significant remark. - -"You see, up at the Castle, you have Dido pinned to your elbow all day, -and I never get a word with you." - -"It seems to me that you get a good many, all the same." - -"Well, not _the_ word. Look here, Helen. Of course I know that you are -only a teacher in a school, and have not a shilling to bless yourself -with, and never will have—worse luck; but you are a thundering pretty -girl, and I am very spoony on you, so here goes. Will you marry me?" - -"I?" she ejaculated with a gasp of incredulity. - -"Yes; you to be sure! Who else?" approaching his arm affectionately -to her waist. But a very sharp rap on the knuckles from the stick she -carried in her hand caused him to change his mind. - -"Come now, you don't mean _that_, I know?" - -"Yes, indeed I do! please keep to your own side of the road." - -"And is it to be yes? Am I not speaking to the future Mrs. Sheridan?" -he inquired with an air of jaunty confidence. - -"No, indeed you are not!" - -"Oh, I say! you are not in earnest!" in a bantering tone. "Think it -over. I'm not a bad sort of fellow. I've a snug little place. I'm old -Malachi's heir. I'm quite a catch, I can tell you—you might do worse." - -"Impossible!" she exclaimed scornfully. - -"Do you mean to tell me you are serious; do you mean me to take no in -earnest? For, mind you, I'll not ask you _again_," speaking with angry -vehemence. - -"I really mean no! You may consider that the honour is declined." - -"And pray, why did you encourage me, and pretend you were fond of me, -eh?" - -"You must be out of your senses to say so." - -"Not a bit of it! You did encourage me, flirting and arguing, and -making sharp speeches just to attract my notice and draw me on; why any -one could see it with half an eye!" - -At this amazing statement the little remnant of the lady's temper -completely gave way, and halting in the road, and turning to him with -blazing eyes, she said,— - -"Mr. Barry Sheridan, a few plain truths shall be spoken to you for once -in your life. I would not marry you if you were a king. You are rude; -you are ignorant." - -"No, I'm not," he interrupted furiously. - -"Yes, you are," she continued inflexibly. "Only last night I heard -you pointing out the constellation of _O'Brien's_ belt! and you -cannot spell two words; you are ignorant and boorish. This may be -your misfortune, not your fault; but it _is_ your fault that you are -selfish and overbearing, and as vain as the frog in the fable. You -imagine, you poor blind ostrich," mixing her metaphors in the heat of -her irritation, "that any one of the girls in the county would marry -you! If you asked them, they would laugh in your face.—If you do not -believe me, you can make the experiment, that's all.—You will have -to improve very much indeed, before you may aspire to the hand of any -_lady_, however penniless." So saying, she lightly hitched herself up -on the cart, gave the mule a bang with her stick, and rattled noisily -away. - - * * * * * - -Helen's return was hailed with acclamation; her cousins, who had long -been on the look out, met her at the gate, and escorted her to the -kitchen, where she poured out her earnings and rendered a faithful -account of her dealings to Sally—Sally, who cross-examined her -sharply, and was transparently jealous of her success. Indeed, the only -poor consolation left Miss MacGravy was, that her deputy had failed -with the "sparrow-grass." - -"One and sixpence, miss, I tould ye, and ye took the shilling! however, -ye were clever with the cauliflowers, and on the whole, ye done well!" - -"I should rather think she _had_ done well!" said Dido, sweeping up the -silver. "What are you going to say to them next week, Sally, when they -all come asking for the smart new girl?" - -"Oh, faix, it's not many will do that, they are mostly too earnest -after bargains—but if they do, I'll just tell a good one when I go -about it, and face them all down, that there was ne'er a one in it, but -myself!" - -"You won't find it easy to make them believe that," said Dido -emphatically; "that would be a _good_ one with a vengeance!" taking her -cousin by the arm and leading her affectionately to the upper regions, -where a delicate little repast awaited her. - -Helen having given her relatives a modified account of her adventures -(in which she dwelt on Larry's ferocious guardianship, but skipped all -mention of the two most thrilling incidents of the day, _i.e._, Gilbert -Lisle's unexpected appearance, and Barry's unwelcome proposal), was -considered to have richly earned the right to enjoy an afternoon of -pure and unalloyed idleness. The white blinds in the drawing-room were -pulled down to keep out the sun, the sashes were up to admit a little -breeze, and she lay back in a comfortable chair, watching Dido's busy -fingers at work. - -Presently her cousin looked up, and said, "I don't know whether it's -the colour of the blinds, or what, Helen, but you look completely done -up. I'm afraid that adventure this morning was too much for you!" - -"Oh, no, not the least—my arms are a little stiff from driving the -mule, that's all, _tough_ is no name for him!" - -"Only fancy your making nearly five pounds!" laying down her work as -she spoke. - -"I made more than that—something which I have not shown you," putting -her hand in her pocket, and holding it out, with a sovereign in her -palm. - -"Gold!" - -"Yes. Who do you think rode up and tossed it down among the -cabbage-leaves, and asked for a flower?" - -"Not—_not_ Mr. Lisle?" - -"Yes, but it was Mr. Lisle." - -"And you—did you faint?" - -"Not I. I stooped and pretended to be tying my shoe the moment after -I recognized him. Of course he may have been staring at me for five -minutes, for all I know. No doubt he thought the market-girl had a look -of his former sweetheart, and he threw her a sovereign, as a kind of -little salve to his conscience," contemptuously balancing the said coin -on her middle finger. - -For quite two minutes Dido did not answer. There was not a sound in the -room, excepting the lazy flapping of the window blind. At length she -said rather reproachfully,— - -"Helen, I think if I had once cared for a person, as you certainly did -for Mr. Lisle, I could not speak of him so bitterly." - -"I am sure you could not! But you are naturally far more amiable than -I am, and your illusions have never been shattered. The last two -years have hardened me. I seem to stand alone in the world. I have -no protector but Helen Denis. I use my natural weapon, my tongue, -rather mercilessly sharp, cutting speeches seem to slip out of my -mouth unawares, and they hurt no one half as much as they do me, -afterwards,—when I am sorry!" - -"I never heard you say anything sharp, until that speech about Mr. -Lisle. Now that he is in the country, how will you meet him?" - -"Certainly not 'in silence and tears,' like the individual in the -song; most probably with a smiling allusion to our former delightful -acquaintance." - -"Now, Helen, you know you won't." - -"No! Well then we shall probably shake hands, and say—'How do you do? -What lovely weather we are having.' That will be all." - -At this moment the door was thrown open with a violence that shook its -ancient hinges, and Katie, who had been absent ever since dinner-time, -burst into the room. She was breathless with excitement, her cheeks -were crimson, and there was certainly a spark of triumph in her eye. - -"Girls!" she gasped, "what do you think has happened? No, I'm not going -to let you guess, because I can't keep it another second—Barry has -asked me to marry him!" - -An awful pause ensued, and then Dido said, in a sharp voice, "And of -course you said no!" - -"And of course I said yes! Only imagine my having a proposal before -_you_, Helen!" darting an exultant look at her pretty, pale cousin, -who now suddenly unclasped her hands from behind her head, and sat up -erect, and looked at her with eyes wide with horrified surprise. - -Vanity is one of those curious elements in human nature which defy -every rule, and impel the victim into the most unexpected courses. -Barry had been put upon his mettle, and he was resolved to show Miss -Denis her mistake at any cost. Accordingly he offered himself to the -very first young lady he met, who happened to be her cousin, Katie, -and here, within four hours of Helen's scornful rejection of his hand, -he was engaged to a girl under the same roof as herself! The long -exciting day, the unexpected encounter with Gilbert, Barry's proposal, -and Barry's revenge, were too much for her over-wrought nerves; to the -horror of Dido, and the amazement of Katie, their cousin received the -news—and she, who had always been so _down_ on Barry—in a storm of -hysterical tears! - - * * * * * - -The next day brought the successful suitor to Crowmore to receive the -congratulations of his friends; his attitude was one of sulky triumph -as he nodded his acknowledgements of Dido's tepid felicitations, and -Biddy's brief greeting—Biddy, who had more than once imparted to the -bride elect that "she would not grudge Mr. Barry a good bating, to -take the concate out of him!" For once he obtained an interview with -his uncle, and then he sought Helen,—but at first she was nowhere to -be seen! All the afternoon she had been digging dandelion roots out of -the gravel, with a kitchen knife, a weary, exasperating performance, -and now, with an aching back, she was enjoying well-earned repose -under a beech-tree on the lawn. She had scarcely begun to realize -the delight of this exquisite August evening, scarcely turned a page -of her book, when, to her great disgust, she heard a loud "ahem," -and, looking up, beheld Barry—Barry, gazing at her with angry, -vindictive eyes! His recent penchant had been speedily replaced by -a good, sound, substantial hatred, which he was at no pains to keep -out of his countenance. Helen raised her head and looked at him, and -beheld defiance in his port, and triumph in his glance. No rebuff, no -rejection, could quench the unquenchable. - -"So you see you were wrong!" he sneered; "who is the ostrich now—who -is the frog, eh? I wonder you are not above calling people names!" - -"Go away, and don't dare to speak to me, sir!" - -"But I will speak to you!" he retorted defiantly. "You see, with _all_ -your fine talk, the very first girl I asked took me, and was glad of -the chance!" - -Helen merely lifted her eyes again and looked at him with frank disgust. - -"I'm going to live here; the old fellow agrees. Katie is his favourite -daughter, and any way, it is high time to take the money out of his -hands, and that there was some sane person over the property! I shall -give Darby Chute the sack," he grinned at Helen, and she read in his -eyes that she would undoubtedly "get the sack" also. - -"Of course you'll say nothing to them about yesterday," dropping his -tone of authority for one of querulous entreaty, as his eyes fell on -Dido and Katie, hurrying across the lawn. "You keep what I said to you -to yourself?" - -"Need you ask?" she returned scornfully. - -"Come away from under the tree, and sit upon these shawls!" cried -Katie. "That bench is so unsociable. Here," spreading it as she spoke, -"is one for you and me, Barry, and you may smoke, to keep away the -midges." - -"I don't want _your_ leave to do that," was the gallant reply as he -flung himself heavily at the feet of his lady-love, and commenced to -blow clouds of tobacco into the air. Presently he said, "How much did -the cow fetch, Dido?" - -"Only sixteen pounds—I'm _so_ disappointed; but Darby said he was glad -to get it, as there were no buyers of dairy stock—only shippers——" - -"Sixteen pounds!" echoed Helen. "Are you sure?" - -"As sure as any one _can_ be, who has the money in their pocket. Darby -brought it up this afternoon." - -"Then, Dido, Darby has robbed you—robbed you shamefully! I overheard -him sell the cow yesterday, and I meant to have told you, but other -things put it out of my head; he sold her for twenty pounds—no wonder -people say he has feathered his nest!" - -"Oh, Helen," cried Dido, in dismay, "what is this you are telling me?" - -"Just what I've been telling you for the last year, and you would not -listen to me," said Barry in a loud voice. "I always knew he robbed you -out of the face!" - -It does not often happen that twice within twenty-four hours, a man's -predictions are fulfilled to the letter—Barry's star was undoubtedly -in the ascendant, he literally swelled with triumph. - -"I saw the money counted into his hand," continued Darby's accuser; -"twenty one-pound notes, and I thought how pleased you would be, -and—he kept back four!" - -"I've a great mind to go down to him this very evening, and impeach him -to his face. I suppose he has been doing this all along. No _wonder_ i -can't make both ends meet!" - -"Don't go to-night," said Katie gravely, "wait till to-morrow. I hear -John Dillon is about again—he shot the Crowmore grouse bog yesterday." - -"I always knew that he was nothing but a poacher. Why don't some of the -people try and catch him!" inquired Helen calmly. - -"But it _is_ john Dillon—exactly as he was in the flesh—he has been -seen scores of times! Why, you saw him yourself, Barry, _you_ have met -him?" said Katie, appealing to her lover with judicious docility. - -"Yes! and I would not meet him again for a million of money. Catch him, -indeed! that's a good joke! You know the man that was found last winter -drowned in a bog hole; they say he was seen struggling with a big black -figure on the brink, and that it was John Dillon put him in, and no -less!" - -"I don't believe in Dillon's ghost—a ghost that shoots and smokes!" -retorted Helen scornfully. - -"I tell you what, Miss Helen Denis, it is all very fine for you to say, -you don't believe this, and you don't believe that—talking is easy. -I'd have some respect for your opinion, if you will start off now, -alone, and walk to the black gate and back—this," glancing up to the -sky, "is just about his time." - -"Do leave her alone, Barry," exclaimed Dido, irritably; "why are you -two always wrangling with each other? Helen, you are not to think of -going." - -"Yes!" returned her cousin, rising, "I should like a walk. I'll go, if -it is only to prove to you and Katie, that I have more courage in my -little finger, than other people have in their whole body." - -"Do you mean that for me?" demanded Barry fiercely, rising on his elbow -as he spoke. - -"If the cap fits, wear it, by all means! You said a moment ago, that -you would not face Dillon for a million. I don't care a fig for -Dillon,—and I am going to meet him now!" - -More than this, she was eager to seize the excuse to have a nice long -stroll through the woods by herself, in order that she might arrange -her ideas, and meditate at leisure—for thanks to her affectionate -cousins, she rarely had a moment alone. - -"Do you think you will catch him, or will he catch you?" inquired Barry -rudely. - -To this she made no reply, and, resisting Katie's eager, almost tearful -entreaties, she snatched up a shawl, and sped away across the grass; -and, as she did so, Barry shouted after her,— - -"Mind you carve your name on the gate, to prove you go there _at all_!" - - - - -CHAPTER XLI. - -"THE POACHER'S GHOST." - - "But I am constant as the Northern Star." - - -IT was not dark, it was not even dusk, when Helen, having fought her -way through the laurustinus and syringa of the pleasure-grounds, -mounted the hill which lay between Crowmore and Ballyredmond. Here she -paused on the summit, and looked back. What a change even two days can -make in one's whole existence! Two evenings previously she had been -picking mushrooms on this very hill in her ordinary, tranquil frame -of mind; now, glancing down on the old Castle, Crowmore was to have a -new master, and she must leave its shelter! Her annual pittance would -soon be due, and she would thus be enabled to return to her duties, -at Malvern House. Well, she had never intended to quarter herself -altogether on her cousins! With a half-stifled sigh she turned her face -towards Ballyredmond, whose gables and chimneys peeped above the trees. -And so Gilbert Lisle was under that roof—probably at dinner at that -moment, sitting opposite to Miss Calderwood! "Of _course_ he is engaged -to her," she said aloud; "Dido only denied it because the wish was -father to the thought! I dare say they will be married soon; perhaps -before I leave. Well, I think I shall be able to decorate the church, -and even to accept an invitation to the wedding—if I get one!" - -These thoughts brought her to the notorious gate, which separated the -two estates. It led from the hill-side pasture of Crowmore straight -into the dense woods of Ballyredmond and was at present fastened by a -stout padlock. There was no sign of John Dillon; no sound to be heard, -save the cawing of rooks and the cooing of wood-pigeons; and, without a -moment's delay, Helen dived into her pocket, produced a small penknife, -and commenced to carve her initials with somewhat suspicious haste. -She was not the least afraid of ghosts; her solution of the great -"apparatus" scare had effectually banished all such fears; but it was a -silent, lonely place, where she had no desire to linger. - -The wood she was operating upon was hard, the penknife brittle, and -the process slow. She had only achieved the letter H, when her ears, -being quickened by an almost unconscious apprehension, caught the tread -of a footstep coming through the plantation. Nearer and nearer it -approached; now it was walking over leaves, which deadened the sound; -now it stepped upon a rotten twig, which snapped. Her heart, despite -her bravery, commenced to flutter wildly. Was this the poacher's ghost? -she would know in another second; in another second the branches were -thrust aside by a grey tweed arm, and she beheld, not John Dillon,—but -Gilbert Lisle! and she felt that the sharpest crisis of her life, was -at hand. - -He stopped for an instant, as though to collect himself, then came -straight up to the gate and doffed his cap. He looked grave, and -extremely pale; and after a perceptible pause, he said,— - -"Miss Denis, I am very glad to meet you again." - -In answer to this she merely inclined her head. At this supreme moment -she could not have spoken to save her life. - -"I see that the pleasure is entirely on my side; and, naturally, you -believe me to be the most faithless, perfidious—" - -"The past is past," she interrupted in a low hurried voice. "Let -us agree to forget that we have ever met before. I was a silly -school-girl; you were a traveller—a man of the world, seeking to -enlarge your experience of places and people. You experimented on _me_. -It was rather cruel, you know, but it does not matter now. We do not -live in the age of broken hearts!" - -"Miss Denis!" he returned passionately, "I'd rather a man had struck -me across the mouth than be obliged to stand and listen to such -words from a woman! And the worst of it all is, that your taunts -seem well-deserved. You do not know the _truth_. Look here," hastily -producing a letter addressed to herself, "I was on my way to leave this -for you with my own hands. I did not venture to expect that you would -see me; but since I have so happily met you, will you listen to me?" - -"No, Mr. Lisle," she answered coldly, "I am not a school-girl _now_." - -"Pardon me, but you must—you shall—hear me," suddenly closing his -hand on her wrist with a vice-like grasp, and speaking with unusual -vehemence. - -"Of course I must hear you, if you choose to detain me against my will! -Would you keep me here by such means?" she asked, her voice trembling -with indignation. - -"I would! Yes, brutal as it sounds, I _would_. Every criminal has a -right to be heard; and from you, in whose eyes I appear a miserable -traitor, I claim that privilege. I will no longer suffer you to think -me a base, false-hearted cur! There," suddenly liberating her hand as -he spoke, "There, I release you, but I appeal to your sense of honour, -and justice, to give me a hearing!" - -Helen made no reply, but, as she did not move, he naturally took -silence for consent, and, without a moment's delay, began to plead his -cause in rapid, broken sentences. - -"Do you know, that for the last ten days I have been searching for you -everywhere, and that I have been half distracted!—At first I addressed -myself to your aunt, who curtly refused your address, and made some -sceptical remarks on my motives in seeking you; then I travelled down -to Tenby, and interviewed Mrs. Kane,—unfortunately, she had lost your -last letter, and could only remember that your post town began with a -T,—which was rather vague. Next I telegraphed out to Mrs. Holmes—who -replied with 'Malvern House.' Finally Mrs. Platt was induced to believe -that I was in _earnest!_ she sent a line to Mrs. Durand; Mrs. Durand -forwarded it to me instantly. I started for Ireland within half an -hour, and here I am!" - -"But why?" inquired the young lady frigidly. - -"Simply because, until the last fortnight, I believed you to be the -wife of James Quentin! Yes, you may well look indignant and scornful; -I richly deserve such looks. You shall judge me, you alone—Here," -suddenly removing his cap, and laying his hand on the gate. "I stand -as it were at the bar before you. Be patient with me for a few -minutes; hear my defence, and then you shall say if I am guilty or not -guilty.—I leave my cause, my fate, my future life in your hands!" - -Helen listened to his appeal in profound silence; poignant memories, -maidenly pride, trembling expectation, struggled fiercely in her -breast. In the end her heart proved to be her suitor's most eloquent -advocate, and with a hasty gesture of assent, she motioned him to go on. - -"You remember that night at Port Blair, when we parted, as I hoped -but for a few hours? Well, I went home and waited up for Quentin, and -talked to him in a way that astonished him. Nevertheless, he stuck -to his point, and blustered, and stormed, and swore that you _were_ -engaged to him." - -"And you believed him?" she exclaimed, with repressed emphasis. - -"I did not believe his words. What converted me was his facts—the fact -that he possessed the wreck ring, and placed it in my hand. That was -sufficient. I thought, when you could give _him_ that,—you could not -care for _me_." - -"And from first to last you were Mr. Quentin's cat's-paw?" - -"His cat's-paw, his tool, his fool; whatever you like!" vehemently. "I -was an infatuated idiot. I mistook him for a gentleman, and measured -him by a wrong standard. He told me lies by the dozen, and when I left -the Nicobars I was under the impression that he was about to return to -Port Blair, and to marry you at once. I went to Singapore, to Japan, to -California; I rambled about the world, quite beyond reach of news from -the Andamans. Indeed, news from the Andamans I never sought—_that_ -page in my life was closed. I came to London about three weeks ago, and -almost the first people I met were Quentin and his wife! After that, -Mrs. Durand cleared up the whole business.—She told me how your ring -had been stolen, and she it was, who succeeded in wringing your address -from your aunt, and that's about the whole story!" - -"What did Mr. Quentin mean?" inquired Helen gravely. - -"It's hard to say. He is a notorious lady-killer. He did not like to be -cut out. He was going away, and was utterly reckless. I believe he had -a comfortable conviction that he could commit any social enormity in -those out-of-the-way islands with the utmost impunity. He believed that -when he sailed away, he put himself beyond the reach of all reprisals. -And now, Helen, what do _you_ say? If you only knew what I have felt -the last fortnight, you would think that I've been pretty well punished -for being Quentin's dupe! Am I guilty or not guilty? Can you ever -forgive me?" - -"Yes; I do forgive you," she replied at length, with a little catch in -her breath. - -"And we will go back to where we left off that evening at Port Blair," -suddenly leaning his arms on the gate, and looking at her earnestly. - -To this she shook her head in silence. - -"There is some one else?" he said, in a low voice. - -"No, there is no one else," she answered, without looking up. - -"Then you are really implacable; and, indeed, I cannot wonder." - -"I am not implacable," and she laughed a little nervous laugh; "but I -am a governess!" - -"And what in the world has that to do with it?" - -"Everything. I am not a suitable wife for a great landed proprietor -like you. You took us all in at Port Blair; but now I know who you -really are, it would never do. I am a lady, certainly—your wife can be -no more than that—but I have no money, no connections." - -"I don't understand you," he said, rather stiffly. - -"Ask your friends, ask your father, your uncle, _they_ will explain it -all very forcibly." - -"That is a miserable excuse, and will not serve you. My father has -been goading me towards the yoke of matrimony for years. My worthy -uncle, little knowing, talked of you all lunch-time, to-day, and wished -himself a young man for your sake—not that if he were—you would -listen to him, I _hope_!" - -"I am not going to listen to any one." - -"Yes, you are, you are going to listen to ME. When I was a poor obscure -nobody at Port Blair, you accepted me as your future husband—you know -you did." - -"Yes; and now that I'm a poor obscure nobody at Crowmore, you wish to -return the compliment." - -"Helen!" he exclaimed, in a tone of sharp reproach, "you don't believe -in your heart that I set any value on my money, or my birth. I want you -to take me for myself alone, as if you were a dairy-maid, and I was a -blacksmith. Will you?" extending his hand. - -"But if I say yes, what will become of Miss Calderwood?" she inquired, -ignoring the proffered clasp. - -"Miss Calderwood is nothing to me, I am nothing to her; our estates -suit one another, that's all. You don't suppose that I care a straw for -Miss Calderwood, or she for me?" coming as close to her as the gate -would permit, and looking at her fixedly. "You know very well that I -care for no one but _you_; don't you, Helen?" - -Helen raised her eyes, and looked at him—and believed him. - -"I'm afraid you have had a very rough time of it since we parted—both -at Port Blair, and in London?—I hate to think of it." - -"Yes. I was miserable at first, most miserable," her eyes filling. -"Afterwards I got on better, and I've been very happy here." - -"But, my dearest Helen—" (N.B. from Miss Denis to Helen, from Helen -to my dearest Helen, had been a rapid transition)—"Is not your uncle -very" mad, he was going to say, but changed it to the word "odd?" - -"Very, very odd; indeed, more than odd, poor man, but he was very good -to me. I am fond of my cousins, especially Dido. Katie is going to -marry her cousin Barry." - -"Unhappy Katie!" in a tone of profound commiseration. "Tell me, Helen, -has that ill-conditioned Orson ever dared to make love to you?" - -"Never mind—I detest him—in fact, it is to prove that he is a coward, -that I am here now. He defied me to come up here, and cut my name on -this gate. See, I have got as far as H." - -"I see! and it is hardly worth your while to add the D," he added, -significantly. "Before very long you will have another initial. And why -did Mr. Barry Sheridan defy you to cut your monogram on this gate?" - -"Because it is said to be haunted by Dillon's ghost! No one ventures -here after dusk." - -"Indeed! Do you know that I came across _your_ ghost in Terryscreen -yesterday; a market girl who is your double. When I saw her I felt that -it was a good omen, that you and I would be face to face ere long." - -"Yes, and you were kind enough to toss her a sovereign—here it is," -now producing it; "it has been burning a hole in my pocket ever since. -Yes," in answer to his stare of incredulity, "I may as well confess to -you at once, that it was not my double that you saw, but myself. You -may well look amazed. Did I not play my part to perfection?" - -"Inimitably—but why?" - -"We," with a backward wave of her hand, "are miserably poor! Uncle's -inventions absorb all the money. Darby, the steward, is a thief, and -Dido has nothing to look to but the garden; every week she sends a -cart to market, and it is the mainstay of the housekeeping. Sally, the -dairy-maid, was laid up—I took her place." - -"And when did you pick up the brogue and the blarney?" - -"Oh, that was the easiest part of the matter! I can take off anything." - -"_You_ can?" rather startled. - -"Yes, ever since I could speak; but I never attempted it in earnest -till yesterday. Please take back your sovereign," holding it out. - -"What am I to do with it? Fasten it to my watch-chain as a memento of -the day my wife sold vegetables in the market square at Terryscreen?" - -"If I were you, I would not talk of your wife before you have one," -returned the young lady, blushing crimson. "I think you might give it -in charity." - -"So be it!" obediently placing it in his waistcoat pocket. "After -all, I'm glad that you and the flower-seller were identical. I always -thought you were the prettiest girl in the world and it gave me quite -an unpleasant shock to see your counterpart." - -(After this speech it was no longer in Helen's power to say that Mr. -Lisle had never paid her a compliment.) - -"And who have we here, coming down the hill with a brace of rabbits -over his shoulders, and a gun under his arm?" he asked abruptly. - -Helen glanced behind her, and beheld a man approaching with a black -beard and peaked cap, and shrank closer to her companion instinctively, -as she answered,— - -"It must be John Dillon!" - -And it was. The seemingly solitary white figure offered a peculiarly -tempting opportunity to the ghost, and he advanced with long and rapid -strides (not being aware of the presence of a third party, who was at -the other side of the gate and somewhat in the shade). He was within -three yards of Helen, and had already stretched out a threatening arm, -when,— - -"Hullo, John!" in a masculine voice, caused him to pause and recoil a -step or two. "I say, you seem to have had good sport?" - -John glowered, backed, and would have fled, but Gilbert was too quick -for him. He vaulted over the gate, and said,— - -"Come here, my friend, and give an account of yourself. It's not every -day that I see a ghost! Let me have a look at you!" - -Very slowly and reluctantly the spectre slouched back, and stood within -a few feet of his questioner. Flight was useless; he had to deal with a -man of half his age, and thrice his activity. Moreover, his gun was not -loaded. - -"And so I hear that you made a capital bag on our bog on the eleventh, -John; what do you do with your game? You know you have no game licence -and are a terrible poacher; woodcock, pheasants, hares, all come handy -to you. My uncle tells me that three hundred head of his long tails -were sent away to Dublin and sold last winter, and this in spite of -watchers at night, and every precaution; you won't leave a head of game -in the county! Now, I don't mind betting a sovereign that you have a -brace of grouse in one of your pockets." - -Here John, who had hitherto simply stood and glowered, showed signs of -moving off, but his captor took him firmly by the arm, and leading him -out beyond the shadow of the trees, said,— - -"Mr. Darby Chute, if I'm not greatly mistaken! I've suspected you -for years. Just take off your cap, will you? Now your beard, if you -please?" And, sure enough, there stood Darby. - -For some seconds there was an eloquent silence, broken at last by Helen -who, notwithstanding her scepticism of Mr. Chute, was unprepared for -_this dénouement_. - -"Oh, Darby, how COULD you?" she exclaimed with horror. - -"Mr. Gilbert," he stammered in a tremulous voice, "I've known ye, -man and boy, and ever since ye wor a terror with the catapult. 'Twas -I first taught you to handle ferrets, and sure you would not go and -expose me now?" - -"Why should I not? You have poached this estate for the last ten years; -not modestly now and then, like your neighbours, but as systematically -as if you had leased the shooting. You must have made your fortune." - -"Fortune, indeed! an' how would I make a fortune?" indignantly. - -"Easily, Darby! what about the white cow you sold for Miss Dido -for twenty pounds, and you only gave her sixteen?" demanded Helen -authoritatively. - -"Arrah! what are you talking about, miss?" he asked with an air of -virtuous repudiation. "Do ye want to destroy mee character?" - -"It is all right, Darby, _I_ was there. I heard you sell it to a man -named James Casey. We will send for him to-morrow if you like." - -"Faix, I see I may as well make a clean breast of it—I see that it's -all over," remarked Darby with sullen self-possession. - -"If you mean the shooting of the best covers in the county, and robbing -old Mr. Sheridan, I think you are about right, and that it _is_ all -over," returned Gilbert emphatically. - -"Well, sure, if _I_ did not take from him, some one else would," was -the cool rejoinder. "'Tis a shame for the likes of him, to be tempting -poor people!" - -"I suppose it was your shots that we used to hear in the woods?" - -"I expect it was, Mr. Gilbert." - -"And it was you who terrified the wits out of every one after -dark—more especially other poachers. That was a clever dodge." - -"It was not too bad, Mr. Gilbert.—Some people does be very wake in -themselves, and shy at night." - -"And there are not half enough knaves in the world, for the fools that -are in it! You are a most infernal rascal." - -"Maybe I am, Mr. Gilbert; but I never went again me conscience." - -"You could not well go against what you have not got." - -"And, sure, what is game but wild birds?" - -"And the cow, was she a wild bird?—I suppose you sent all your bags to -Dublin?" - -"Faix, an' I did, Mr. Gilbert!" returned Darby with perfect equanimity. - -"And who bought your spoil?" - -"Oh, a spalpeen in William Street, a rale chate! he never gave me more -ner two shillings a brace. Don't _you_ have no dalings with him," said -the culprit with heroic impudence. - -"And now, what am I to do with you, Mr. Chute? You are convicted here -as a thief and poacher, on your own confession." - -"Well, now, since you _ax_ me, I think ye might as well let me off, Mr. -Gilbert! Sure, it won't be no pleasure, or relief, to you to prosecute -me, and me old mother would think bad of me going to jail. Won't you -spake a word for me, Miss Helen? Sure, there's no one but yourself -can say a hate against me, and ye would not like to be put up in the -witness box at Terryscreen." - -"You need not be distressed about Miss Denis, Darby," said Gilbert -sternly. "I could prove enough without her. If I do let you off, it -will be on account of your old mother, and because I've known you ever -since I could walk, and because the harm is done now, and to publish -your knavery, would make half the county look like fools." - -"Look here, Mr. Gilbert, I'll never offer to fire a shot in anyone's -ground again, nor to set foot in Crowmore. And I'll make restitution -on the cow, an' wan or two small matters beside, in all twinty pounds. -There now! I'm laying me sins bare before you—and what more can I do?" - -"You can leave the country! You must clear out within twenty-four -hours, and never show your face again in these parts, either as John -Dillon or Darby Chute. And, as to the restitution, I shall have a word -with Father Fagan, _he_ will see to that." - -"Very well, Mr. Gilbert," he rejoined quietly, "as you plase. But I -warn you that there will be nations of poachers in it, when I go." - -"Nations or not, go you must. I wonder what my uncle would say if he -knew I let you off so cheap." - -"'Deed then, Mr. Gilbert, I'm thinking he would just destroy both you -and me! Howd-somever, I've a brother in America, and I've long laid out -to go there. So it's not putting me much about!" - -"And is less inconvenient than jail! Well, I daresay you will be smart -enough even for some of them." - -"Shure, how would I be smart, that never had no book learning?" -protested Darby scornfully. "Look here, Mr. Gilbert, if that's your -young lady—and, faix, it _looks_ like it—I never saw any one make -a worse hand of coortin' than yourself. Raally, I'm surprised at ye! -You at one side of the gate, and her at the other. Miss Helen," now -turning to her, "I suppose ye may as well have this brace of grouse," -producing the birds from his pocket. "And with regard to that little -account you were spakin' of, and the _other_ change, I'll send it up -the first thing in the morning, and may be you won't let on, but it was -a mistake." - -"Indeed, Darby, I shall tell the whole truth," cried Helen indignantly. -"You need not expect _me_ to keep such a thing secret." - -"Well, I'll be out of it to-morrow! so it's no great matter. Good-bye, -Mr. Gilbert; good-bye, Miss Helen. You and I were never very thick, -still I wish you both luck and grace, and that you may live long and -die happy," and picking up his cap and gun, Mr. Darby Chute walked away -with considerable dignity. - -"There's a nice ruffian for you!" exclaimed Gilbert emphatically. - -"Yes; and to think how he must have robbed uncle, and poor Dido!" - -"And to think of the years he has been poaching the country. However, -never mind him now, we have something else to talk about." - -"But there's the stable clock striking eight, and I must go. And it's -your dinner-hour at Ballyredmond." - -"Not to-night.—To-night I don't want any dinner. (Could manly devotion -go further?) I am going to walk back with you. Thank goodness, there is -no Mrs. Creery to hustle me away _this_ time." - -To his proposal the young lady made no demur, no protestations; not -even when he insisted on taking her home by the longest way, up the -hill, out by the road, and in by the new avenue! The whole distance -was about three-quarters of a mile; the time occupied three-quarters -of an hour; the moon, a full harvest moon, had risen, and the twilight -had given place to a light almost as clear as day. Seated on her own -door-step, smoking her little dhudeen, they descried the "Fancy,"—and -she saw them! The unexpected appearance of an interesting-looking young -couple strolling down the road, was a welcome windfall to this active -old woman, who instantly sprang up, and darted out, to waylay them with -her invariable whine of,— - -"Give the poor old woman the price of a cup of tay, your honour. Oh!" -recognizing him, "and 'tis yourself is welcome home, me own darling Mr. -Gilbert. Give me the price of a new petticoat, and that you may _gain -the lady_!" - -In answer to this romantic appeal, he promptly threw her the sovereign -that Helen had returned, and Judy (having made herself acquainted with -the value of the coin) accompanied the lovers to the gates overpowering -them the while with shrill benedictions. - -From the following few words it would appear as if the "Fancy's" -good wishes were wholly superfluous, and that the lady had already -surrendered. - -"Good-night," she said as she paused half-way up the avenue. "You -really must not come any further." - -"And pray why not?" - -"Because they know nothing, and it will look so strange," she -stammered. "I should like to tell them first," she added rather shyly. - -"Then I shall come over at cock-crow, to-morrow. May I come to -breakfast?" - -"Yes, you may. Good-night," holding out her hand. - -"Good-night! and is that all? I am not going to let you run off like -that, _this_ time!" detaining her. "You have forgotten something." - -"Oh, of course! how stupid of me—the grouse to be sure!" - -"No—NOT the grouse!" replied Gilbert—who was far bolder than Darby -imagined! - -Two minutes later Helen's cousins,—who had been sitting with the -drawing-room door open, and the hall door as usual, eagerly listening -to every sound,—heard her running up the gravel, and then up the -steps. Her cheeks were scarlet, but on the whole, she did not look as -if she was flying from a ghost! - -"What a fright you have given us!" cried Dido, rushing at her. "Katie -and I have been almost distracted.—You have been away nearly two -hours." - -"Have I really!" she exclaimed apologetically. "I did not think I had -been half that time." - -The anxieties of her relatives had evidently not been shared by Barry, -who sat with his feet upon a chair, a paper in his hand, and a look of -stolid indifference on his face. - -"Well, did you see Dillon?" he demanded, as she entered the -drawing-room. - -"Oh, yes! I saw him," she returned carelessly; "and here," exhibiting -the birds, "are a brace of grouse he gave me!" - -"I don't believe you!" bringing down his boots with a loud bang. - -"And there's his beard!" tossing a black object into Katie's lap,—who -immediately rose with a loud shriek, and shook it off as if it had been -a rattlesnake. - -"I'll tell you something else,"—addressing herself specially to her -cousins. "What do you think? We made a grand discovery this evening. -John Dillon, the notorious ghost poacher, is your esteemed friend, -Darby Chute!" - -When the ensuing storm of exclamations and questions had somewhat -subsided, Dido said suddenly, "But surely he never confessed all this -to you alone? Who was with you? What do you mean by _we_?" - -Helen's sole answer was a brilliant blush; and, strange to say, this -reply was sufficient for her cousin. - - * * * * * - -A year has elapsed since Gilbert Lisle stood on his trial at the black -gate. He has now quite settled down in the _rôle_ of a married man, and -spends most of his time between Berkshire and Ballyredmond. However, -his wings have not been _too_ closely clipped, for people who bore a -striking resemblance to him and his wife were met in Tangiers last -winter; and they are meditating a trip to the East, and paying a flying -visit to Dido (Dido who is now residing on the plains of Hindostan and -learning the practical use of punkahs and mosquito nets). - -Thanks to Helen's good offices, the course of Miss Sheridan's true -love ran smoothly after all, and she was married with considerable -_éclat_ from the Lisles' house in London. Between that mansion and 15, -Upper Cream Street—there is a cloud. Helen and her relatives exchange -dignified salutes when they meet in public, but there their intimacy -ceases. Mr. Lisle has forbidden his wife to cross her aunt's threshold -(an embargo that is by no means irksome to that young lady), and the -Misses Platt tell all their acquaintance what an odious, ungrateful -creature she is, and how once upon a time they took her in, and kept -her out of charity. And _this_ is their reward! - -Nevertheless, the Honourable Mrs. Gilbert Lisle does not forget old -friends. She is not ashamed to see the Smithson Villa vehicle standing -before her door; and she has more than once visited at Malvern House, -and entertained Mrs. Kane, and some of her former pupils. Lord -Lingard has been altogether captivated by his daughter-in-law. She -is everything his heart desires; young, pretty, and pleasant. He has -invested her with the family diamonds! - -Barry and Katie reign at Crowmore. The place is much altered, for the -better; the old lodges have been swept away, the wall is gone, the -gates restored; the garden is pruned, the yard is reclaimed, and the -out-offices are roofed, and filled. Katie is happy in her own way. -She rather enjoys being bullied by Barry, is lenient to his little -foibles, and she listens to his vainglorious personal reminiscences -with deep interest, and implicit faith. On one point alone she is -somewhat sceptical, viz., that Barry could have married her cousin, -had he chosen;—her pretty cousin Helen, who occasionally drives over -from Ballyredmond in a smart Stanhope phaeton, and seems perfectly -satisfied with her own husband, and who snubs Barry, as mercilessly as -ever! - -Mr. Sheridan, poor gentleman, has now but few lucid intervals. He is -at present engaged in an absorbing search for the elixir of life, and -lives in his tower along with a companion, whom he treats with the most -reverent respect and calls "Archimedes," but to the outer world he is -known as James Karney—a keeper from a lunatic asylum. - -Biddy, thanks to Helen's good offices, has relented at last, and -permitted her niece Sally to bestow her capable hand upon "that little -sleveen, Larry Flood." The market-cart has consequently been abolished, -and the Master's occupation (like Othello's), is gone. He is now a -pensioner at Ballyredmond, where, to quote his late charioteer, Mrs. -Flood, "he never does a hand's turn, barrin' thievin' in the haggard, -and chasing the cows." - -The "Fancy" continues to flourish, to levy tribute, and to make a -comfortable income out of her holding at the Cross. And, according to -the last accounts from America, Darby Chute reported himself to be -doing _well_. - - -THE END - - - - - PRINTED BY - KELLY AND CO., GATE STREET, LINCOLN'S INN FIELDS, W.C. - AND MIDDLE MILL, KINGSTON-ON-THAMES. - - - - -TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES. - -1. Silently corrected simple spelling, grammar, and typographical errors. - -2. Retained anachronistic and non-standard spellings as printed. - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A BIRD OF PASSAGE *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following -the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use -of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for -copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very -easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation -of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project -Gutenberg eBooks may be modified and printed and given away--you may -do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected -by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark -license, especially commercial redistribution. - -START: FULL LICENSE - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the -person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph -1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the -Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when -you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country other than the United States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work -on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: - - 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. - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format -other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm website -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain -Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -provided that: - -* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation." - -* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm - works. - -* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - -* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of -the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the Foundation as set -forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at -www.gutenberg.org - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, -Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up -to date contact information can be found at the Foundation's website -and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without -widespread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine-readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular -state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our website which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This website includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/old/69198-0.zip b/old/69198-0.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index b64637b..0000000 --- a/old/69198-0.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/69198-h.zip b/old/69198-h.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 4ce30c6..0000000 --- a/old/69198-h.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/69198-h/69198-h.htm b/old/69198-h/69198-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index 75e2b56..0000000 --- a/old/69198-h/69198-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,17377 +0,0 @@ -<!DOCTYPE html> -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> -<head> - <meta charset="UTF-8" /> - <title> - A Project Gutenberg eBook of A Bird of Passage, by B. M. Croker. - </title> - <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover" /> - <style> /* <![CDATA[ */ - -body { - margin-left: 10%; - margin-right: 10%; -} - - h1,h2 { - text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ - clear: both; -} - -p { - margin-top: .51em; - text-align: justify; - margin-bottom: .49em; -} - -.boxpage214 { - width: 300px; - border: 2px solid black; - padding: 20px; - margin: auto; -} - -.small {font-size: 80%;} -.smaller {font-size: 90%;} -.large {font-size: 120%;} -.xlarge {font-size: 140%;} -.xxlarge {font-size: 165%;} - -hr.tb {width: 45%; margin-left: 27.5%; margin-right: 27.5%; margin-top: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em;} -hr.chap {width: 65%; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em;} -.x-ebookmaker hr.chap { display: none; visibility: hidden;} -hr.full {width: 95%; margin-left: 2.5%; margin-right: 2.5%;} - -hr.r15 {width: 15%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em; margin-left: 42.5%; margin-right: 42.5%;} -.hr15 {text-align:center; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em;} -div.chapter {page-break-before: always;} -h2.nobreak {page-break-before: avoid;} - -table { - margin-left: auto; - margin-right: auto; -} - -.tdl {text-align: left;} -.tdr {text-align: right;} - -.pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ - /* visibility: hidden; */ - position: absolute; - left: 92%; - font-size: smaller; - text-align: right; - font-style: normal; - font-weight: normal; - font-variant: normal; - text-indent: 0; -} /* page numbers */ - -.blockquot { - margin-left: 5%; - margin-right: 10%; - text-align: justify; -} - -.blockquote { - margin-left: 5%; - margin-right: 10%; - text-align: justify; -} - -.center {text-align: center;} - -.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} - -/* Images */ - -img { - max-width: 100%; - height: auto; -} - -.figcenter { - margin: auto; - text-align: center; - page-break-inside: avoid; - max-width: 100%; -} - -.sig5 {text-align:right; margin-right: 5%; margin-top: -0.5em;} -.sig10 {text-align:right; margin-right: 10%; margin-top: -0.5em;} -.sig15 {text-align:right; margin-right: 15%;} -.sig20 {text-align:right; margin-right: 20%;} -.sig-left15 {text-align: left; padding-left: 15%; margin-top: 1em;} -.sig-left35 {text-align: left; padding-left: 35%; margin-top: 1em;} -.sig-left45 {text-align: left; padding-left: 45%; margin-top: 1em;} -.sig-left50 {text-align: left; padding-left: 50%; margin-top: -0.5em;} -.sig-left55 {text-align: left; padding-left: 55%; margin-top: -0.5em;} -.sig-left60 {text-align: left; padding-left: 60%; margin-top: -1em;} - -/* Poetry */ - -.poetry-container28 {margin-left: 28%; width:60%;} -.poetry-container32 {margin-left: 32%; width:60%;} -.poetry-container33 {margin-left: 33%; width:60%;} -.poetry-container34 {margin-left: 34%; width:60%;} -.poetry-container35 {margin-left: 35%; width:60%;} -.poetry-container35 {margin-left: 35%; width:60%;} -.poetry-container35-5 {margin-left: 35.5%; width:60%;} -.poetry-container36 {margin-left: 36%; width: 60%;} -.poetry-container37 {margin-left: 37%; width: 60%;} -.poetry-container37-5 {margin-left: 37.5%; width: 60%;} -.poetry-container38 {margin-left: 38%; width: 60%;} -.poetry-container38-5 {margin-left: 38.5%; width: 60%;} -.poetry-container39 {margin-left: 39%; width: 60%;} -.poetry-container39-5 {margin-left: 39.5%; width: 60%;} -.poetry-container40 {margin-left: 40%; width:60%;} -.poetry-container40-5 {margin-left: 40.5%; width:60%;} -.poetry-container41 {margin-left: 41%; width:60%;} - -.poetry .stanza {margin: 1em auto;} -.poetry .verse {text-indent: -3em; padding-left: 3em;} -.poetry .first-line {text-indent: -3.4em; padding-left: 3em;} - -.poetry .indent2 {text-indent: -2em;} -.poetry .indent3 {text-indent: -1.5em;} -.poetry .indent4 {text-indent: -1em;} -.poetry .indent7 {text-indent: 0.5em;} -.poetry .indent8 {text-indent: 1em;} -.poetry .indent12 {text-indent: 3em;} -.poetry .indent17-5 {text-indent: 5.5em;} -.poetry .indent18 {text-indent: 6em;} -.poetry .indent36 {text-indent: 12em;} - -.x-ebookmaker .poetry {display: block;} - -div.tnotes {background-color: #eeeeee; border: 1px solid black; padding: 1em;} -.covernote {visibility: hidden; display: none;} -.x-ebookmaker .covernote {visibility: visible; display: block;} - -/* Transcriber's notes */ -.transnote {background-color: #E6E6FA; - color: black; - font-size:smaller; - padding:0.5em; - margin-bottom:5em; - font-family:sans-serif, serif; } - - /* ]]> */ </style> -</head> -<body> -<p style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of A bird of passage, by Bithia Mary Croker</p> -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -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 <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: A bird of passage</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Bithia Mary Croker</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: October 21, 2022 [eBook #69198]</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</p> - <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; text-align:left'>Produced by: MWS, Brian Wilsden and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)</p> -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A BIRD OF PASSAGE ***</div> - -<div class="tnotes covernote"> - <p>The cover image was created by the transcriber and is placed in the public domain.</p> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<img src="images/cover.jpg" alt="Cover" style="width:600px;"/> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg i]</span></p> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/titlepage.png" width="600" height="917" alt="Illustrated Title Page"/> -</div> - -<br /> -<br /> - -<h1> -<span class="large">A BIRD OF PASSAGE.</span> -</h1> - -<br /> -<br /> - -<div class="center"> -<span class="smaller">BY</span><br /> -<br /> - -<span class="xlarge">B. M. CROKER,</span><br /> - -<span class="large">AUTHOR OF "PROPER PRIDE," "PRETTY MISS NEVILLE,"<br /> -"SOME ONE ELSE."</span></div><br /> -<br /> - -<div class="poetry-container33"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="blockquot"> -<div class="verse">"Such wind as scatters young men thro' the world</div> -<div class="verse">To seek their fortunes further than at home,</div> -<div class="verse">Where small experience grows."</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> -<p class="sig-left60"><span class="smcap">The Tempest.</span></p> -<br /> -<hr class="r15" /> -<div class="center"> -<span class="xlarge">WARD AND DOWNEY,</span><br /> -<span class="large">12, YORK STREET, COVENT GARDEN, LONDON, W.C.</span><br /> -1887. -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg ii]</span></p> - -<div class="center"> -PRINTED BY<br /> -KELLY AND CO., GATE STREET, LINCOLN'S INN FIELDS, W.C.;<br /> -AND MIDDLE MILL, KINGSTON-ON-THAMES.</div> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg iii]</span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CONTENTS">CONTENTS.</h2> -</div> - -<table> -<tr> -<td class="tdr"><span class="small">CHAP.</span></td> -<td class="tdl"> </td> -<td class="tdr"><span class="small">PAGE</span></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">I.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">—Port Blair</span></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Pg_1">1</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">II.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">—Expectation</span></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">9</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">III.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">—First Impressions</span></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_III">24</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">IV.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">—Miss Denis has Visitors</span></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">31</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">V.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">—What is She Like?</span></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_V">37</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">VI.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">—Queen of the Cannibal Islands</span></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">48</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">VII.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">—Mr. Quentin's Piano</span></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">53</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">VIII.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">—"I was his Dearest Lizzie!"</span></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">61</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">IX.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">—A Damsel in Distress</span></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">69</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">X.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">—Mr. Lisle forgets his Dinner</span></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_X">76</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">XI.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">—The Finger of Fate</span></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">86</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">XII.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">—The Wreck</span></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">95</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">XIII.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">—"Blue Beard's Chamber"</span></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">103</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">XIV.</td> -<td class="tdr"><span class="smcap">—"Mr. Lisle has given me a Ring"</span></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">110</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">XV.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">—"Why Not?"</span></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XV">116</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">XVI.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">—"Stolen from the Sea!"</span></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">123</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">XVII.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">—The Ball</span></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">132</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">XVIII.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">—"But what will Papa say?"</span></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">141</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">XIX.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">—Proof Positive</span></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIX">154</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">XX.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">—"A Great Battle"</span></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XX">160</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">XXI.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">—The Nicobars</span></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXI">168</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">XXII.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">—The First Grave</span></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXII">175</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">XXIII.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">—"Was it Possible!"</span></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIII">180</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">XXIV.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">—"Farewell, Port Blair"</span></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIV">191</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">XXV.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">—The Steerage Passenger</span></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXV">198</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">XXVI.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">—A Poor Relation</span></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXVI">206</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">XXVII.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">—Everything is Settled</span> -<span class="pagenum">[Pg iv]</span></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXVII">215</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">XXVIII.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">—Malvern House</span></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXVIII">227</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">XXIX.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">—"You remember Miss Denis?"</span></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIX">239</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">XXX.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">—Finnigan's Mare</span></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXX">256</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">XXXI.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">—"Crowmore Castle"</span></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXI">267</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">XXXII.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">—Barry's Guess</span></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXII">274</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">XXXIII.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">—"The Fancy"</span></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXIII">284</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">XXXIV.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">—"The Slave of Beauty"</span></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXIV">293</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">XXXV.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">—"The Apparition"</span></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXV">303</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">XXXVI.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">—"The Apparatus"</span></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXVI">312</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">XXXVII.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">—"In Confidence"</span></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXVII">317</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">XXXVIII.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">—"Sally's Substitute"</span></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXVIII">325</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">XXXIX.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">—"The Market Girl"</span></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXIX">337</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">XL.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">—"Barry's Challenge"</span></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XL">342</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdr">XLI.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">—"The Poacher's Ghost"</span></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XLI">351</a></td> -</tr> -</table> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Pg_1">[Pg 1]</span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak"> -<span class="xlarge">A BIRD OF PASSAGE.</span></h2> -</div> - -<div class="center"> -<span class="hr15">━━━━━━━</span><br /><br /> -<span class="xxlarge"><b>CHAPTER I.</b></span><br /><br /> -<span class="large"><b>PORT BLAIR.</b></span> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container32"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="blockquot"> -<div class="verse first-line">"Droops the heavy-blossom'd bower; hangs the heavy-fruited tree:</div> -<div class="verse">Summer isles of Eden lying in dark purple spheres of sea."</div> - </div> - </div> - </div> -</div> -<div class="sig-left60"><span class="smcap"><cite>Locksley Hall.</cite></span></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Few</span> travellers penetrate to the Andamans, unless it be an enthusiastic -astronomer to witness a rare comet, or an enterprising professor, who -happens to be fired with a desire to study the language and the skulls -of the aborigines.</p> - -<p>These islands are as yet sacred from the foot of the globe-trotter, -Cook's tourists ignore them, and they lie in serene semi-savage -seclusion, in the midst of the Indian Ocean, dimly known to the great -outer world as the chief Indian convict settlement, and the scene -of Lord Mayo's murder in 1872. The inland portions of the great and -lesser Andamans have been but cursorily explored, (those who have made -the attempt, having learnt by tragic experience that the inhabitants -were addicted to cannibalism); but outlying islets, and fringes of the -coast, have been opened up by the Indian Government, and appropriated -for the benefit of thousands of convicts (chiefly lifers), who are -annually poured into Port Blair—from Galle to the Kyber, from Aden to -the borders of China, the cry is still they come!</p> - -<p>Port Blair, the Government headquarters, is situated on Ross, a high -conical islet that lies about a mile south of the Middle Andaman, -and although of limited circumference, it boasts a stone church, - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 2]</span> - -barracks, a Commandant's residence, several gaols, a pier, a bazaar, -a circulating library, and a brass band! Every foot of ground is laid -out to marvellous advantage, and the neat gravelled pathways, thick -tropical hedges, flowering shrubs and foliage plants, give the numerous -brown bungalows which cover the hillsides, the effect of being situated -in a large and well-kept garden.</p> - -<p>The summit of the island commands a wide view: to the north lies the -mainland with its sharply indented shores, and a wide sickle-shaped -estuary, sweeping far away into the interior, where its wooded curves -are lost among the hills; the southern side of Ross looks sheer -out upon the boundless ocean, and receives the full force of many -a terrible tropical hurricane, that has travelled unspent from the -Equator.</p> - -<p>There was not a ripple on that vast blue surface, one certain August -evening, a few years ago—save where it fretted gently in and out, -between the jagged black rocks that surrounded the island; the sea was -like a mirror, and threw back an accurate reflection of boats, and -hills, and wooded shores; distant, seldom-seen islands, now loomed in -the horizon with vague, misty outlines; a delicate, soft, south wind -barely touched the leaves of the big trees, among whose branches the -busy green parrots had been chattering, and the gorgeous peacocks, -screeching and swinging, all through the long, hot, sleepy afternoon.</p> - -<p>Surely the setting sun was making a more lingering and, as it were, -regretful adieu to these beautiful remote islands than to other parts -of the world! No pen could describe, no brush convey, any idea of the -vivid crimson, western clouds, and the flood of blinding golden light, -that bathed the hills, the far-away islets, the tangled mangroves, and -the glassy sea.</p> - -<p>To the cool dispassionate northern eye, which may have first opened on -a leaden sky, snow-capped hills, pine woods, and ploughed lands, there -was a general impression of wildly gaudy, south sea scenery, of savage -silence, and lawless solitude.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 3]</span></p> - -<p>Soon that scarlet ball will have plunged below the horizon, a -short-lived grey twilight have spread her veil over land and sea, the -parrots' noisy pink bills will be tucked under their wings, and the -turbulent peacocks have gone to roost.</p> - -<p>Close to the flagstaff (which was planted on a kind of large, flat -mound, at the highest point of the island), one human figure stood -out in bold relief against the brilliant sunset; an elderly gentleman -with grizzled hair and beard, a careworn expression, and mild, brown -eyes,—eyes that were anxiously riveted on the at present sailless sea. -He carried a small red telescope in his hand, and divided his time -between pacing the short grass plateau, and spasmodically sweeping the -horizon. For what was he looking so impatiently? He was looking for the -smoke of the Calcutta steamer, that brought mails and passengers to -Port Blair once in every six weeks. Think of but one mail in six weeks, -ye sybarites of Pall Mall, revelling in a dozen daily posts, scores -of papers, and all the latest telegrams from China to Peru! Imagine -reading up forty days' arrears of your <cite>Times</cite> or <cite>Post</cite>; imagine six -<cite>Punches</cite> simultaneously! Gladly as Colonel Denis usually hailed his -letters, and especially the <cite>Weekly Gazette</cite>, yet it was neither news -nor promotion that he was so restlessly awaiting now—his thoughts -were altogether centred on a passenger, his only daughter, whom he -had not seen for thirteen years, not since she was a little mite in -socks and sashes, and now she was a grown-up, a finished young lady, -coming out from England by this mail to be the mistress of his house! -He was glad that this long anticipated day had dawned at last, and yet -he scarcely dared to analyze his own feelings—he was ashamed to own, -even in his inmost heart, that mingled with all his felicity, there is -a secret dread—a kind of stifled misgiving. This girl who is to share -his home within the next few hours, is in reality, as far as personal -acquaintance goes, as much a stranger to him as if he had never seen -her before, although she is his own little Nell, with whom he used to -romp by the hour in the verandah at Karkipore, thirteen years ago. -Those thirteen years stand between him and that familiar merry face, - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 4]</span> - -dancing gait, and floating yellow hair; they have taken that away, and -what are they going to give him instead? Of course he and his daughter -had corresponded by every mail, but what are nice affectionate letters, -what are presents, yea photographs, when the individuality of the -giver has long been blurred and indistinct; when the memory of a face, -and the sound of a voice, have faded and faded, till nothing tangible -remains but a name! Children of five years old have but short memories, -and in Helen Denis's case, there was no one near her to revive her -dying recollections.</p> - -<p>"I wonder if she will know me among the crowd," her father muttered as -he paced the platform, with the telescope behind his back.</p> - -<p>"I'm sorry now, I never had my photo taken, to prepare her! How strange -I shall feel with a girl in the house, after all these years. I've -quite forgotten woman's ways!" From an expression that came into his -eyes, one might gather that a backward glance at "woman's ways" was -not altogether one of the most agreeable memories of the past. "If -she should be like—" and he paused, shuddered, and looked out over -the sea for some minutes, with a face that had grown suddenly stern. -His thoughts were abruptly recalled to the present, by the sound of -footsteps coming up the gravel pathway behind him.</p> - -<p>"Hullo, colonel!" cried a loud, cheery voice, "why are you doing sentry -here? Oh! of course, I forget; you expect Miss Denis this mail!"</p> - -<p>"Yes. I'm looking out for the steamer," he replied, as he turned -round and accosted a very handsome young man, with aquiline features, -brilliant teeth, and eyes as blue as the surrounding sea. A tall young -man, carefully dressed in a creaseless light suit, who wore a pale silk -tie run through a ring, gloves, and carried a large white umbrella. -He had an adequate appreciation of his own appearance, and with good -reason, for men frequently referred to him as "the best-looking -fellow of their acquaintance," and women—well—women spoiled him, -they had petted him and made much of him, since he was a pretty -little curly-headed cherub, with a discriminating taste in sweets, - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 5]</span> - -and a rooted objection to kissing old and ugly people, down to the -present time, when he (although you would not think it) had passed his -thirty-second birthday! He had been sent to Port Blair in connection -with some new works on the mainland, and was "acting" for another -man, who had gone on furlough. His name was James—variously known -as "Beauty," "Apollo," or "Look and Die"—Quentin, and he was really -less conceited than might have been expected under the circumstances! -Mr. Quentin was not alone; his companion was a shorter, slighter, and -altogether more insignificant person, dark as an Arab, through exposure -to the sun; he wore a broad-leafed, weather-beaten Terai, pulled so far -over his brows that one could only guess at a pair of piercing eyes, a -thin visage, and a black moustache; his clothes were by no means new, -his hands burnt to a rich mahogany, and innocent of gloves, ring, or -umbrella.</p> - -<p>Somehow, with his slouched hat, slender figure, and swarthy skin, -he had rather a foreign air, and was a complete contrast to his -broad-shouldered patron, "Look and Die" Quentin, whom he followed -slowly up the hill, and muttering an indistinct greeting to Colonel -Denis, he walked on a few paces, and stood with his arms folded, -looking down upon the sea, somewhat in the attitude of the well-known -picture of Napoleon at St. Helena! This sunburnt, silent individual was -known by the name of "the Photographer;" he was a mysterious stranger, -who three months previously had dropped into the settlement—but <em>not</em> -into society—as if from the clouds, and during these three months, the -united ingenuity of the community had failed to discover anything more -about him, than what they had learned the very first day he had landed -on Ross; to wit, that his name was Lisle, and that he had come from -Calcutta to take photographs among the islands. Immediately after his -arrival, he had established himself in the Dâk Bungalow, on Aberdeen, -had hired a boat, and in a very short time had made himself completely -at home; his belongings consisted of a small quantity of luggage, a -large camera, some fishing-tackle, and a native servant, who refused to -elucidate any one on the subject of his master, and the public were - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 6]</span> - -very inquisitive about that gentleman,—and who shall say that their -curiosity was not legitimate!</p> - -<p>People never came to Ross, unless they were convicts, settlement -officers, formed part of the garrison, or were functionaries like Mr. -Quentin, who was "acting" for some one else. Mr. Lisle did not come -under any of these heads; he was not an officer, Hindoo or otherwise, -he did not belong to the settlement, nor was he one of the class for -whose special behoof the islands had been colonized. The problem still -remained unsolved, who was Mr. Lisle, what was he doing at Port Blair, -where did he come from, when, and where, was he going, was he rich or -poor, married or single? All these queries still remained unsolved, and -opened up a fine field of speculation. Society, so isolated from the -outer world, so meagrely supplied with legitimate news, were naturally -thrown a good deal upon their own resources for topics of conversation -and discussion. A week after mail-day, most of the papers had been -read and digested, and people had to fall back upon little items of -local intelligence—and such items were wont to be scarce: think, then, -what a godsend for conjecture and discussion Mr. Lisle would, and did -prove! this waif blown to them from beyond the sea, without address or -reference! If he had been a common-looking, uneducated person, it would -have been totally different; but the aggravating thing was, that shabby -as were his clothes, he had the unmistakable bearing and address of a -gentleman,—yet he spent all his days photographing natives, trees, -islands, as if his daily bread solely depended on his industry! He -lived not far from where Mr. Quentin dwelt, in a splendid bungalow, in -solitary state; and the former, constantly meeting the photographer, -had scraped up an acquaintance with him, had dropped in and smoked -friendly cigarettes in the Rest House verandah, had thrown out feelers -in vain—in vain!—had come to the conclusion that Lisle was a very -gentlemanly fellow in his way,—that he was no fool, that he was a most -entertaining companion, and wound up by insisting that he should come -and share his roof!</p> - -<p>To this Lisle objected, in fact he refused the invitation point-blank, -but when he learned that the Rest Bungalow was requisitioned for some - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 7]</span> - -missionaries, and when his would-be host became the more pressing, the -more he was reluctant, he gave in, after considerable hesitation.</p> - -<p>"You see, it's not a purely unselfish idea," said Mr. Quentin; "I'm -awfully lonely at this side—not a soul to speak to, unless I go to -Ross, and I'm often too lazy to stir, and now I shall have you to -argue with, and to keep me company of an evening. Then, as to your -photographs, there's lots of room for them. You can have a whole side -of the house to yourself, and do as you please."</p> - -<p>"I'll come on one condition," replied the other, looking straight -at him; "I'll come, if you will allow me to pay my share of the -butler's account, and all that sort of thing. We are speaking quite -frankly—you require some one to talk to, I want a roof, since you say -the missionaries are coming to the Rest House,—and I doubt if we would -assimilate!"</p> - -<p>Mr. Quentin, who had been lounging in a low cane chair, took his cigar -out of his mouth, blew a cloud of smoke, and hesitated; it was all very -well to have this chap up to keep him company of an evening, but to -chum with him—by Jove!</p> - -<p>The other seemed to read what was passing through his mind, for he -said, with a twinkle in his eye,—</p> - -<p>"I'm not a fellow travelling for a firm of photographers, as no -doubt every one imagines. I'm"—pushing an envelope over to his -companion—"that's my name."</p> - -<p>Mr. Quentin took up the paper carelessly, cast his eye over it, became -rather red, and laughed nervously. From this time forward, Mr. Lisle -and Mr. Quentin chummed together on equal terms,—somewhat to the -scandal of their neighbours, who were amazed that such a fastidious -man as "Look and Die" Quentin should open his house, and his arms, to -this unknown shabby stranger! His manners were studiously courteous -and polite, but he understood how to entrench himself in a fortress -of reserve, that held even Mrs. Creery, the chief lady of Port Blair, -at bay, and this was saying much—driven very hard, two damaging -statements had been, as it were, wrested from him! he liked the -Andamans, because there was no daily post, and no telegrams, and he - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 8]</span> - -had no occupation <em>now</em>. Did not admission number one savour of a -dread of suggestive-looking blue envelopes, and clamouring, hungry -creditors—to whom he had effectually given the slip; and admission -number two was worse still! no occupation now, was doubtless the -result of social and financial bankruptcy. Mrs. Creery was disposed to -deal hardly with him—in her opinion, he was an "outlaw." (She rather -prided herself upon having fitted him neatly with a name.) If he had -thrown her one sop of conciliation, or given her the least little hint -about himself and his affairs, she <em>might</em> have tolerated him, but -he remained perversely dumb. Mr. Quentin was dumb too—though it was -shrewdly suspected that he knew more about his inmate than any one—and -indeed he had gone so far as to deny that he was a professional -photographer; when rigidly cross-examined by a certain lady, he only -laughed, and shook his head, and said that "Lisle was a harmless -lunatic—rather mad on the subject of photography and sea-fishing, -but otherwise a pleasant companion;" but beyond this, he declined to -enlighten his questioner. No assistance being forthcoming, society was -obliged to classify the stranger for themselves, and they ticketed him -as a genteel loafer, a penniless ne'er-do-well, who had come down to -Port Blair in hopes (vain) of obtaining some kind of employment, and -had now comfortably established himself as Mr. Quentin's hanger-on and -unpaid companion!</p> - -<p>It must be admitted that the stranger gave considerable colour to this -view; he did not visit and mix with society on Ross, he wore shabby -clothes and shocking hats, and spent most of his time tramping the bush -with a gun on his shoulder or a camera on his back, "looking for all -the world like an Italian organ-grinder or a brigand," according to -that high authority, Mrs. Creery. For three months he had been without -a competitor in the interest of the community, but now his day was -over, his star on the wane: he was about to give place to a very rare -and important new arrival, namely, an unmarried lady, who was currently -reported to be "but eighteen years of age and very pretty!"</p> - -<hr class="r15" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 9]</span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II.<br /><br /> -<span class="small">EXPECTATION.</span></h2> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container37"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="blockquot"> -<div class="verse first-line">"For now sits expectation in the air,</div> -<div class="verse indent18">And hides a sword."</div> - </div> - </div> - </div> -</div> -<div class="sig-left60"><span class="smcap">—<cite>Henry V.</cite></span></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">All</span> this time Colonel Denis had been engaged in animated conversation -with Mr. Quentin. Nature had been doubly generous to the latter -gentleman, for she had not merely endowed him with unusual personal -attractions, but had increased these attractions by the gift of a -charming manner that fascinated every one who came in contact with -him—from the General himself down to the sullen convict boatmen; it -was quite natural to him, even when discussing a trivial subject, with -an individual who rather bored him than otherwise, to throw such an -appearance of interest into his words and looks that one would imagine -all his thoughts were centred in the person before him and the topic -under discussion.</p> - -<p>To men this attitude was flattering, to women irresistible, and what -though his words were writ on sand, his manner had its effect, and was -an even more powerful factor in his great popularity than his stalwart -figure and handsome face. At the present moment he stood leaning on -his furled umbrella, listening with rapt attention to what Colonel -Denis had to say on the subject of whale-boats <em>versus</em> gigs (every -one at Ross kept a boat of their own, like the O'Tooles at the time of -the Flood). The Colonel was enlarging on the capabilities of his new -purchase—bought expressly in honour of his daughter, as he would have -bought a carriage elsewhere—when he was interrupted by Mr. Lisle (who -meanwhile had been keeping watch on the horizon and whistling snatches -of the overture to "Mirella" under his breath), abruptly announcing, -"Here she is!"</p> - -<p>Colonel Denis was so startled that he actually dropped the telescope, -which rolled to his informant's feet, who, picking it up, noticed as he -returned it that Colonel Denis was looking strangely nervous, and that - -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</span> - -the hand stretched towards him was shaking visibly. He gazed at him -with considerable surprise, and was about to make some remark, when Mr. -Quentin exclaimed in a tone of genuine alarm,—</p> - -<p>"By George! here is Mrs. Creery. I see the top of her topee coming up -the hill, and I'm going."</p> - -<p>But he reckoned without that good lady, who had already cut off his -retreat. In another moment her round florid face appeared below the -topee, followed by her ample person, clad in a sulphur-colour sateen -costume, garnished with green ribbons; last, but not least, came her -fat yellow-and-white dog, "Nip," an animal that she called "a darling," -"a treasure," "a duck," and "a fox-terrier," but no other person in the -settlement recognized him by any of these titles. Before she was within -twenty yards, she called out in a thin, authoritative treble,—</p> - -<p>"Well, what are you all doing here? what is it, eh? Any news? You -need not be looking for the <i>Scotia</i>; she can't possibly be in till -to-morrow, you know—I told you so, Colonel Denis. Oh," in answer to a -silent gesture from Mr. Lisle, "so She <em>is</em> coming in, is she?" in a -tone that gave her listeners to understand that she had no business to -be there, contradicting Mrs. Creery.</p> - -<p>"And so you have been up playing tennis at the General's," to Mr. -Quentin. "I saw your peon going by with your bat and shoes; but what -has brought <em>you</em> over to Ross, Mr. Lisle—I thought you rarely left -the mainland?" fastening on him now for that especial reason.</p> - -<p>"I don't often come over," he replied, parrying the question.</p> - -<p>"You've been shopping in the bazaar," she continued; "you have been -buying collars."</p> - -<p>"Mrs. Creery is unanswerable—she is gifted with 'second sight.'" (All -the same it was not collars, but cartridges, that he had purchased.)</p> - -<p>"Not she!" returned the lady with a laugh, "but she has eyes in her -head, and that's a collar-box in your hand! I can tell most things by -the shape of the parcel. Still as charmed as ever with Aberdeen?"</p> - -<p>Mr. Lisle bowed.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 11]</span></p> - -<p>"I heard that you were going away?"</p> - -<p>"So I am—" he paused, and then added, "some day."</p> - -<p>"What do you do with all your photographs—sell them? Oh, but to be -sure you can't do that here. You must find the chemicals terribly -costly."</p> - -<p>"They are rather expensive."</p> - -<p>"I'll tell you what, I will give you a little commission! How would -you like to come over some morning and take me and Nip, and then the -bungalow, and then a group of our servants?"</p> - -<p>If Mr. Lisle's face was any index of his mind, it said plainly that he -would not relish the prospect at all.</p> - -<p>"I want to send home some photos to my sister, Lady Grubb. Of course I -shall pay you—that's understood."</p> - -<p>During this conversation, Colonel Denis looked miserably uncomfortable, -and Mr. Quentin as if it was with painful difficulty that he restrained -his laughter; the travelling photographer alone was unmoved; he -surveyed his patroness gravely, as if he were taking a mental plate of -her topee with its purple puggaree, her little eager light eyes, her -important nose and ruddy cheeks, and then replied in a most deferential -manner,—</p> - -<p>"Thank you very much for your kind offer, but I am not a professional -photographer."</p> - -<p>Was Mrs. Creery crushed? Not at all, she merely raised her light -eyebrows and said,—</p> - -<p>"Oh, not a professional photographer! Then what <em>are</em> you?"</p> - -<p>"Mrs. Creery's very humble slave," bowing profoundly.</p> - -<p>"Photographs are rather a sore subject with him just now," broke in Mr. -Quentin in his loud, hearty voice. "You have not heard what happened to -him yesterday when he was out shooting?"</p> - -<p>"No; how should I?" she retorted peevishly.</p> - -<p>"Well, I must say he bore it like a stoic. I myself, mild as I am, and -sweet as you know my temper to be, would have killed the fellow."</p> - -<p>"What fellow?"</p> - -<p>"My new chokra. Time hung heavily on his hands, and I suppose he -thought he would be doing something really useful for once in his - -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</span> - -life, so he went into the room where Lisle keeps all his precious -plates—photographic plates, not even printed off—plates he has -collected and treasured like so many diamonds—"</p> - -<p>"Well, well, well?" tapping her foot.</p> - -<p>"My dear lady, I'm coming to it if you won't hurry me. My confounded -chokra took them all for so much DIRTY GLASS, and washed every man Jack -of them, and was exceedingly proud of his industry!"</p> - -<p>"And what did you do to him?" demanded Mrs. Creery, turning round and -staring at the victim of ignorance.</p> - -<p>"Nothing—what could I do? he knew no better; but I told my fellow not -to let him come near me for a few days."</p> - -<p>"Colonel Denis," said the lady, now addressing him, "is it true that -you have not seen your daughter for thirteen years?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, quite true, I am sorry to say."</p> - -<p>"Why did you not go home on furlough?"</p> - -<p>"I never could manage it. When I could get home I had no money, and -when money was plentiful, there was no leave."</p> - -<p>"Ah, and you told me she was a pretty girl, I believe; I hope you are -not building on <em>that</em>, for pretty children are a delusion; I never yet -saw one of them that did not grow up plain."</p> - -<p>"Excepting <em>me</em>, Mrs. Creery," expostulated Mr. Quentin; "if history is -to be believed, I was a most beautiful infant—so beautiful that people -came to see me for miles and miles around, and (insinuatingly) I'm sure -you would not call me plain now?"</p> - -<p>Mrs. Creery (who had a secret partiality for this gentleman) laughed -incredulously, and then replied, "Well, perhaps you are the exception -that proves the rule. Of course," once more addressing Colonel Denis, -"your daughter will bring out all the new fashions, and have no end of -pretty things—that is if you have given her a liberal outfit."</p> - -<p>She here paused for a reply, but no answer being forthcoming went -on, "If you feel at all nervous about meeting her, I'll go on board - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 13]</span> - -with you with pleasure; I should <em>like</em> it, and you are well enough -acquainted with me to know that you have only to say the word!"</p> - -<p>At this suggestion, the eyes of the two bystanders met, and exchanged a -significant glance, and whilst Colonel Denis was stammering forth his -thanks and excuses, they hastily took leave of Mrs. Creery and made -their escape.</p> - -<p>"The steamer is coming in very fast, and I think I'll go home and see -that everything is ready," said the Colonel after a pause.</p> - -<p>"Well, perhaps it would be as well," acceded the lady; "but are you -really certain you would not like me to meet her, or, at any rate, to -be at your bungalow to receive her?"</p> - -<p>Once more her companion politely but firmly declined her good offices, -assuring her earnestly that they were quite unnecessary, and the lady, -visibly disappointed, said as she shouldered her parasol and turned -away, "Perhaps you will have your journey for nothing! I should not be -the least surprised if she did not come by this steamer after all! and -mark my words, that ayah—that Fatima—that you would engage in spite -of my advice, will give you trouble <em>yet</em>!"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Colonel Denis, nothing daunted, hurried down to his own bungalow, a -large one facing the mainland, entirely surrounded by a deep verandah, -and approached by a pathway hedged with yellow heliotrope. A good many -preparations had been made for the expected young mistress; there were -flowers everywhere in profusion, curious tropical ones, berries, and -orchids, and ferns.</p> - -<p>The lamps were lit in the sitting-rooms, and everything was extremely -neat, and yet there was a want; there was a bare gaunt look about the -drawing-room, although it had been lately furnished and Ram Sawmy, the -butler of twenty years' standing, had disposed the chairs and tables -in the most approved fashion—in his eyes—and put up coloured purdahs -and white curtains, all for "Missy Baba." Nevertheless, the general -effect was grim and comfortless. There were no nick-nacks, books, or -chair-backs: there certainly were a few coarse white antimacassars, - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 14]</span> - -but these were gracefully arranged, according to Sawmy's taste, as -coverings for the smaller tables! Colonel Denis looked about him -discontentedly, moved a chair here, a vase there, then happening to -catch a glimpse of himself in a mirror, he went up to it and anxiously -confronted his own reflection. How wrinkled and grey he looked! he -might be fifteen years older than his real age. After a few seconds -he took up and opened a small album, and critically scanned a faded -photograph of a gentleman in a long frock-coat, with corresponding -whiskers, leaning over a balustrade, his hat and gloves carelessly -disposed at his elbow—a portrait of himself taken many years -previously.</p> - -<p>"There is no use in my thinking that it's the least like me <em>now</em>; she -could not know me again—no more than I would know her—" then closing -the book with a snap, and suddenly raising his voice, he called out: -"Here, Sawmy, see that dinner is ready in half an hour and have the -ayah waiting. I'm going for missy."</p> - -<p>Doubtless dinner and the ayah had a long time to wait, for it was -fully an hour before the <i>Scotia</i> dropped anchor off Ross; she was -immediately surrounded by a swarm of boats, including that of Colonel -Denis, who boarded her, and descended among the crowd to the cabin, -with his heart beating unusually fast.</p> - -<p>The cabin lamps were lit, and somewhat dazzled the eyes of those who -entered from the moonlight. There were but few passengers, and the -most noticeable of these was Helen Denis, who sat alone at the end of -a narrow table, with a bag on her lap, the inevitable waterproof over -her arm, and her gaze fixed anxiously on the door leading from the -companion ladder. Colonel Denis would not be disappointed; his daughter -<em>had</em> fulfilled the promise of her youth, and was a very pretty girl. -She was slight and fair, with regular features and quantities of light -brown hair—hair that twenty years ago was called fair, before golden -and canary-coloured locks came to put it out of fashion. Her eyes -were grey—or blue—colour rather uncertain; but one thing was beyond -all dispute, they were beautiful eyes! As for her complexion, it was -extremely pale at present, and her very lips were white; but this was - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 15]</span> - -due to her agitation, to her awe and wonder and fear, to her anxiety -to know <em>which</em> of the many strange faces that came crowding into the -cabin was the one that would welcome her, and be familiar to her, and -dear to her as long as she lived? She sat quite still, with throbbing -heart, surveying each new-comer with anxious expectation. As Colonel -Denis entered she half rose, and looked at him appealingly.</p> - -<p>"You are Helen?" he said in answer to her glance.</p> - -<p>"Oh, father," she exclaimed tremulously, now putting down the bag and -stretching out her hands, "how glad I am that you are <em>you</em>!—it sounds -nonsense, I know, but I was half afraid that I had forgotten your face. -You know," apologetically, "I was such a very little thing, and that -man over there, with the hooked nose, stared at me so hard, that I -thought for a moment—I was half afraid—" and she paused and laughed a -little hysterically, and looked at her father with eyes full of tears, -and he rather shyly stooped down and touched her lips with his grizzly -moustache—and the ice was broken.</p> - -<p>Helen seemed to immediately recover her spirits, her colour, and -her tongue—but no, she had never lost the use of that! She was a -different-looking girl to what she had been ten minutes previously—her -lips broke into smiles, her eyes danced; she was scarcely the same -individual as the white-faced, frightened young lady whom we had first -seen sitting aloof at the end of the saloon table.</p> - -<p>"I remember you now quite well," said Miss Denis. "I knew your voice; -and oh, I am so glad to come home again!"</p> - -<p>This was delightful. Colonel Denis, a man of but few words at any -time, was silent from sheer necessity now. He felt that he could not -command his utterance as was befitting to his sex. If this meeting was -rapturous to Helen, what was it not to him? Here was his own little -girl grown into a big girl—this was all the difference.</p> - -<p>In a short time Miss Denis and her luggage (Mrs. Creery would be -pleased to know that there was a good deal of the latter) were being -rowed to Ross by eight stout-armed boatmen, over a sea that reflected -the bright full moon. It was almost as light as day, as Helen and her - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 16]</span> - -father walked along the pier and up the hill homewards. As they passed -a bungalow on their left-hand, the figure of a girl (who had long been -lying in wait in the shadow of the verandah) leant out as they went by -and watched them stealthily; then, pushing open a door and hurrying -into a lamp-lit room, she said to her mother, an enormously stout, -helpless-looking woman,—</p> - -<p>"She has come! She has a figure like a may-pole. I could not see her -face plainly, but I don't believe she is anything to look at."</p> - -<p>However, those who had already obtained a glimpse of Miss Denis in the -saloon of the <i>Scotia</i> were of a very different opinion, and, according -to them, the newly-arrived "spin" was an uncommonly pretty girl, likely -to raise the average of ladies' looks in the settlement by about fifty -per cent.!</p> - -<p>Almost at the moment that Colonel Denis and his daughter were landing -at Ross, another boat was putting her passengers ashore at Aberdeen, -<i>i.e.</i> Mr. Quentin's very smart gig. A steep hill lay between him and -his bungalow, but declining the elephant in waiting, he and Mr. Lisle, -and another friend, to whom he had given a seat over, commenced to -breast the rugged path together. This latter gentleman was a Dr. Parks, -the principal medical officer in the settlement; a little man with a -sharp face, grey whiskers and moustache, and keen eyes to match; he -was comfortable of figure, and fluent of speech, and prided himself on -having the army list of the Indian staff corps at his fingers' ends; -he could tell other men's services to a week, knew to a day when Brown -would drop in for his off-reckonings, and how much sick-leave Jones had -had. More than this, he had an enormous circle of acquaintances in the -three Presidencies, and if he did not know most old Indian residents -personally, at any rate he could tell you all about them—who they -married, when, and why; who were their friends, enemies, or relations; -what were their prospects of promotion, their peculiarities, their -favourite hill-stations; he was a sort of animated directory (with -copious notes), and prided himself on knowing India as well as another - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 17]</span> - -man knew London. He was unmarried, well off, and lived in the East -from choice, not necessity; he was exceedingly popular in society, was -reputed to have saved two lacs of rupees, and to be looking out for a -wife!</p> - -<p>After climbing the hill for some time in silence, Dr. Parks -paused—ostensibly to survey the scene, in reality to take breath.</p> - -<p>"Hold hard, you fellows," he cried, as the other two were walking on. -"Hold hard, there's no hurry. Looks like a scene in a theatre, doesn't -it?" waving a hand towards the prospect below them.</p> - -<p>"With the moon for lime light?" rejoined Mr. Quentin as he paused and -glanced back upon the steamer, surrounding boats, and the sea, all -bathed in bright, tropical moon-shine; at the many lights twinkling up -and down the island, like fire-flies in a wood.</p> - -<p>Dr. Parks remained stationary for some seconds, contemplating Ross, -with his thumbs in the arm-holes of his waistcoat. At length he said,—</p> - -<p>"I daresay old Denis hardly knows himself to-night, with a girl sitting -opposite him. I hope she will turn out well."</p> - -<p>"You mean that you hope she will turn out good-looking," amended Mr. -Quentin, turning and surveying his companion expressively. "Ah, Parks, -you were always a great ladies' man!"</p> - -<p>"Nonsense, sir, nonsense. I'm not thinking of her looks at all; but the -fact of the matter is, that Denis has had an uncommonly rough time of -it, and I trust he is in shallow water at last, and that this girl will -turn out to be what they call 'a comfort to him.'"</p> - -<p>"I hope she will be a comfort to us all. I'm sure we want some -consolation in this vile hole; but why is Old Denis a special charity?" -inquired Mr. Quentin.</p> - -<p>"<em>Old</em> Denis—well, he is not so old, if it comes to that; in fact, he -is five years my junior, and I suppose <em>I'm</em> not an old man, am I?" -demanded Dr. Parks, with a spark of choler in his eye.</p> - -<p>"Oh, you! you know that you are younger than any of us," rejoined Mr. -Quentin quickly; "time never touches you; but about Denis?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 18]</span></p> - -<p>"Oh! he has had a lot of bother and worry, and you know that that plays -the deuce with a fellow. The fact of the matter is, that Tom Denis -came to awful grief in money matters," said Dr. Parks, now walking on -abreast of Mr. Quentin, and discoursing in a fluent, confidential tone.</p> - -<p>"His father's affairs went smash, and Tom became security to save the -family name, mortgaged all his own little property that came to him -through his mother, exchanged from a crack regiment at home, and came -out here into the staff corps. It was a foolish, quixotic business -altogether; no one was a bit obliged to him: his sisters thought he -might have done more, his father was a callous old beggar, and took -everything he got quite as a matter of course, and Tom was the support -of his relations, and their scapegoat."</p> - -<p>"The very last animal I'd like to be," remarked Mr. Quentin; "but don't -let me interrupt you; go on."</p> - -<p>"Well, as if Tom had not enough on his hands, he saddled himself with -a wife—a wife he did not want either, a beautiful Greek! It seems -that she burst into tears when he told her he was going to India, and -I'm not sure that she did not faint on his breast into the bargain. -However, the long and the short of it was, that Tom had a soft heart, -and he offered to take her out with him as Mrs. D——.</p> - -<p>"Mrs. Denis had a lovely face, an empty head, no heart, and no money; -in fact, no interest, or connections, or anything! and she was the -very worst wife for a poor man like Tom. She came out to Bombay, and -carried all before her; one would have thought she had thousands at her -back—her carriages, dresses and dinners! 'pon my word, they ran the -Governor's wife pretty hard. There was no holding her; at least, it -would have taken a stronger man than Tom Denis to do that. She flatly -refused to live on the plains, or to go within five hundred miles of -his native regiment; and his <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">rôle</i> was to broil in some dusty, baking -station, and to supply my lady up in the hills, or spending the season -at Poonah or Bombay, with almost the whole of his pay.—I believe she -scarcely left him enough rupees to keep body and soul together!"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 19]</span></p> - -<p>"The man must have been a fool!" said Mr. Lisle emphatically, now -speaking for the first time.</p> - -<p>"Aye, a fool about a pretty face, like many another," growled the -doctor. "There was no denying her beauty! The pure Greek type; her -figure a model, every movement the poetry of motion. She was Cockney -born, though; her father a Greek refugee, conspirator, whatever you -like, and of course, a Prince at Athens, and the descendant of Princes, -according to his own tale—meanwhile a fourth-rate painter in London, -whose Princess kept lodgers! Well, Mrs. Denis was very clever with -her pen, and made capital imitations of her husband's signature! She -borrowed freely from the Soucars, she ran bills in all directions, -she had a vice in common with her kinsfolk of Crete, and she was the -prettiest woman in India! Luckily for Denis (I say it with all respect -to her ashes), she died after a short but brilliant social career, -leaving him this girl and some enormous debts. The fact of the matter -was, Tom was a ruined man. And all these years, between his father's -affairs and his wife's liabilities, his life has been a long battle, -and poor as he was, and no doubt <em>is</em>, he never could say no to a needy -friend; and I need scarcely tell you, that people soon discovered this -agreeable trait in his character!"</p> - -<p>"It's a pity he has not a little more moral courage, and that he never -studied the art of saying 'no,'" remarked Mr. Lisle dryly; "it's merely -a matter of nerve and practice."</p> - -<p>"It's not that, exactly," rejoined Dr. Parks, "but that he is too much -afraid of hurting people's feelings, too simple and unselfish. I hope -this girl who has come out will stand between him and this greedy -world!"</p> - -<p>"<em>I</em> should have thought it ought to be the other way."</p> - -<p>"So it ought, but you see what Denis is yourself," turning and -appealing to Jim Quentin. "Go over to him to-morrow morning, and tell -him that you are at your wits' ends for five hundred rupees, and he -will hand it out to you like a lamb."</p> - -<p>"I only wish lambs <em> were</em> in the habit of handing out five hundred -rupee notes, I'd take to a pastoral life to-morrow!" returned Mr. -Quentin fervently, casting a woeful thought to the many long bills he - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 20]</span> - -owed in Calcutta, London, and elsewhere.</p> - -<p>"Let us hope Miss Denis will have some force of character," said -Dr. Parks; "that's the only chance for him! A strong will, like her -mother's, minus her capabilities for making the money fly, and a few -other weaknesses; and here," halting and holding out his hand, "our -roads part."</p> - -<p>"No, no. Not a bit of it," replied Mr. Quentin, taking him forcibly by -the arm. "You just come home and dine with us, doctor, and tell a few -more family histories."</p> - -<p>Dr. Parks was a little reluctant at first, declaring that he was due -elsewhere, that it was quite impossible, &c. &c.</p> - -<p>"It's only the Irwins, I know, and they will think you have stopped at -Ross—it will be all right. Come along."</p> - -<p>Thus Dr. Parks was led away from the path of duty, and down the road -approaching Mr. Quentin's bungalow;—he was rather curious to see the -<i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">ménage</i>; that was the reason why he had been such an unresisting -victim to Mr. Jim's invitation,—Mr. Jim rarely entertained, and much -preferred sitting at other people's boards to dispensing hospitality at -his own.</p> - -<p>Dinner was excellent—well cooked, well served. Dr. Parks, who was not -insensible to culinary arts, was both surprised and pleased; he had -known his host for many years, had come across him on the hills and -on the plains, on board ship, and in the jungle; they had a host of -acquaintances in common, and after a few glasses of first-rate claret, -and a brisk volley of mutual reminiscences and stories, Dr. Parks began -to tell himself that "he was really very fond of Apollo Quentin, after -all, and that he was one of the nicest young fellows that he knew!" -And what about the man who sat at the foot of the table? Hitherto he -had not been able to classify this Mr. Lisle, nor had he been so much -interested in the matter as other, and idler, people. He had seen him -often coming and going at Aberdeen, and had nodded him a friendly -"Good-morrow," and now and then exchanged a few words with him; his -clothes were shabby, his manner reserved; Dr. Parks understood that - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 21]</span> - -he was a broken-down gentleman, to whom Quentin had given house-room, -and, believing this, he could not help feeling that he was performing -a gracious and kindly action in noticing him, and "doing the civil," -as he would have called it himself, to this beggarly stranger! But -now, when he came to look at the fellow, his appearance was changed. -What wonders can be worked by a decent coat! Seen without his slouch -hat and rusty Karki jacket, he was quite another person; and query, -was that reserved manner of his <em>humility</em>? Dr. Parks noticed that -there was nothing subservient in his way of speaking to Quentin; quite -the reverse; that far from holding a subordinate position in the -establishment, servants were more prompt to attend on him than on any -one else, and sprang to his very glance; that he, more than Quentin, -looked after his (Dr. Parks') wants, and saw that his plate and glass -were always replenished to his liking, in which duties Apollo (who -was a good deal occupied with his own dinner and speculations on Miss -Denis's appearance,) was rather slack. When the meal was over, and the -silent, bare-footed servants had left the room, cigars and cigarettes -were brought out, and conversation became general, Mr. Lisle had plenty -to say for himself—when he chose—had travelled much, and had the -polished manners and diction of a man who had mixed with good society. -Dr. Parks scrutinized him narrowly, and summed up his age to be a year -or two over thirty—he looked a good deal younger without his hat; -his hair was black as the traditional raven's wing, slightly touched -with grey on the temples, his eyes were deep-set, piercing, and very -dark, there was a humorous twinkle in them at times, that qualified -their general expression—which was somewhat stern. On the whole, this -Lisle was a handsome man; in quite a different style to his <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">vis-à-vis</i> -Apollo (who lounged with his arm over the back of his chair, and seemed -buried in thought), he was undoubtedly a gentleman, and he looked -as if he had been in the service. All the same, this was but idle -speculation, and Dr. Parks had not got any "forrader" than any one else.</p> - -<p>The pause incident to "lighting up" lasted for nearly five minutes, -then Mr. Quentin roused himself, filled out a bumper of claret, pushed - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 22]</span> - -the decanter along the table, and said,—</p> - -<p>"Gentlemen, fill your glasses. I am about to give you a toast. Miss -Denis—her very good health."</p> - -<p>"What!" to Dr. Parks. "Are you not going to drink it? Come, come, fill -up, fill up."</p> - -<p>"Oh, yes. I'll honour your toast, I'll drink it," he replied, suiting -the action to the word. "And now I'll follow it up by what you little -expect, and that's a speech."</p> - -<p>"All right, make a start, you are in the chair; but be brief, for -goodness' sake. What is the text?"</p> - -<p>"The text is, Do not flirt with Miss Denis."</p> - -<p>"Oh, and pray why not, if she is pretty, and agreeable, and -appreciative?"</p> - -<p>"You know what I told you this very evening. She is a mere school-girl, -an inexperienced child, she is Denis's one ewe lamb, she is to be his -companion, the prop of his old age; if you have any sense of chivalry, -spare her."</p> - -<p>"Spare her!" ejaculated Mr. Quentin with a theatrical gesture of his -hand. "One would think I was a butcher, or the public executioner!"</p> - -<p>"I know," proceeded Dr. Parks, "your proclivities for tender -whisperings, bouquet-giving, and note-writing, in short the whole gamut -of your attentions, and that they never <em>mean</em> anything, but too many -forlorn maidens have learnt to their cost, you most agreeable, but -evasive young man," nodding towards his host with an air of pathetic -expostulation.</p> - -<p>"I say, come now, you know this is ridiculous," exclaimed Mr. Quentin, -pushing his chair back as he spoke. But Dr. Parks was in the vein for -expounding on his friend's foibles, and not to be silenced.</p> - -<p>"You know as well as I do your imbecile weakness for a pretty face, and -that you cannot resist making love to every good-looking girl you see, -until a still better-looking drives her out of your fickle heart."</p> - -<p>"Go on, go on," cried his victim; "you were a loss to the Church."</p> - -<p>"Of course," continued the elder gentleman, clearing his throat, "I can -readily imagine that for you—a society man before anything—these - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 23]</span> - -regions are a vast desert, you are thrown away here, and are -figuratively a castaway, out of humanity's reach. And now fate seems -induced to smile upon you once more, in sending you a possibly pretty -creature to be the sharer of your many empty hours. If I thought you -would be serious, I would not say anything; or if this girl was a -hardened veteran of a dozen seasons, and knew the difference between -jest and earnest, again I would hold my peace; but as it is, I sum up -the whole subject in one word, and with regard to Helen Denis, I say, -<em>don't</em>."</p> - -<p>"Hear hear," cried his friend, hammering loudly on the table. "Doctor, -your eloquence is positively touching; but you always <em>were</em> the -ladies' champion. All the same you are exaggerating the situation; I am -a most innocent, inoffensive——"</p> - -<p>"Come now, James Quentin; how about that girl at Poonah that you -made the talk of the station? How about the girls you proposed to -up at Matheran and Murree; what about the irate father who followed -you to Lahore, and from whom you concealed yourself behind the -refreshment-room counter? Eh!"</p> - -<p>"Now, now, doctor, I'll cry peccavi. Spare me before Lisle."</p> - -<p>Who lay back in his chair smoking a cigar—and looking both bored and -indifferent.</p> - -<p>"<em>You</em> don't go in for ladies' society on Ross?" said Dr. Parks, -addressing him abruptly.</p> - -<p>"I—no—" struggling to an erect posture, and knocking the ash off his -cigar. "I only know one lady over there, and she is a host in herself."</p> - -<p>"You mean Mrs. Creery?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, I allude to Mrs. Creery."</p> - -<p>And at the very mention of the name, they all three laughed aloud.</p> - -<p>"And how about Miss Denis, Quentin? you've not given your promise," -said Dr. Parks once more returning to the charge.</p> - -<p>"I'll promise you one thing, doctor," drawled the host, who was -beginning to get tired of his persistence. "I'll not marry her, now - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 24]</span> - -that you have let me behind the scenes about her bewitching mother, and -I'll promise you, that I'll go over and call to-morrow, and see if I -can discover any traces of a Grecian ancestry in Miss Denis's face and -figure."</p> - -<p>"You are incorrigible. I might as well talk to the wall; there's only -one hope for the girl, and that's a poor one."</p> - -<p>"Poor as it is, let us have it."</p> - -<p>"A chance that she may not be taken like twenty-three out of every two -dozen, with fickle Jim Quentin's handsome face!"</p> - -<p>"Where has Lisle gone to?" he added, looking round.</p> - -<p>"Into the verandah, or to bed, or out to <em>sea</em>! The latter is just as -likely as anything; he did not approve of the conversation, he thinks -that ladies should never be discussed," and he shrugged his shoulders -expressively.</p> - -<p>"Quite one of the old school, eh?" said the elder gentleman, raising -his eyebrows and pursing out his under-lip.</p> - -<p>"Quite," laconically.</p> - -<p>"By-the-bye, Quentin, I daresay you will think I'm as bad as Mrs. -Creery, but <em>who</em> is this fellow Lisle, and what in the name of all -that's slow is he doing down here?—eh, who is he?" leaning over -confidentially.</p> - -<p>"Oh, he fishes, and shoots, and likes the Andamans awfully.—As to who -he is—he is simply, as you see, a gentleman at large, and his name is -Gilbert Lisle."</p> - -<p>Thus Dr. Parks, in spite of his superior opportunities, was foiled; and -returned to his own abode no wiser than any of his neighbours.</p> - -<hr class="r15" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III.<br /><br /> -<span class="small">FIRST IMPRESSIONS.</span></h2> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container36"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="blockquot"> -<div class="verse">"And I am something curious, being strange."</div> - </div> - </div> - </div> -</div> -<div class="sig-left60"><span style="margin-left: 1em;"><cite>Cymbeline.</cite></span></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> morning after her arrival Helen Denis found herself alone, as her - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 25]</span> - -father was occupied with drills and orderly-room till twelve o'clock, -when they breakfasted.</p> - -<p>She went out into the verandah, and looked about her, in order to -become better acquainted with the situation of her new home. The -bungalow stood a little way back from the gravel road, that encircled -the whole island, and was shaded by a luxuriant crimson creeper; a -hedge of yellow flowers bordered the path leading up to the door, and -between the house and the sea was a clump of thick cocoa-nut palms, -that stood out in bold relief against the deep cobalt background of -the sky. Jays, parrots, and unfamiliar tropical birds were flitting -about, and from the sea a faint breeze was wafted, bearing strange -fragrant odours from the distant mainland; a light haze lay over the -water, betokening a warm meridian. A few white clouds slumbered in the -hot heavens overhead; and save for the hum of insects and birds, and a -distant sound of oars swinging to and fro in the rowlocks, the place -was as silent as a Sunday morning in the country, when every one has -gone to church.—At first Helen stood, and then she sat down on the -steps to contemplate this scene, which formed the prelude to a new -epoch in her life—she gazed and gazed, and seemed afraid to move her -eyes, lest the vision should escape her. She sat thus without moving -for fully half an hour.</p> - -<p>"Well, what do you think of it all, young woman?" from a voice behind -her, caused her to spring up, and she found her father standing there -in his white uniform, with his sword under his arm.</p> - -<p>"Oh, papa! I never, never saw anything like it; I never dreamt or -fancied there could be such a beautiful spot—it's like fairyland! like -an enchanted country, like"—her similes running short—"like Robinson -Crusoe's island."</p> - -<p>"Rather different to Brompton, eh? I suppose you had not much of a view -there?"</p> - -<p>"View!" she exclaimed; "if there had been one, we could not see it! -for in the first place we were shut in by high, dirty brick walls, and -in the second, all the lower windows were muffled glass; there was one -window at the end of the school-room that overlooked the road, and - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 26]</span> - -though it was pretty high up, it was all painted, but some one had -scratched a little space in it, right in the middle, and often and -often, when I've been saying my lessons, or reading translations in -class, every idea has been sent right out of my head, when I've looked -up at that pane and seen an <em>eye</em> watching us—it always seemed to be -watching <em>me</em>! but of course that was imagination; it used to make me -feel quite hysterical at times, and many a bad mark it cost me!"</p> - -<p>"Well, you are not likely to get any bad marks here," said her father, -laying his hand on her shoulder as he spoke; "and you think you will -like Port Blair?"</p> - -<p>"Like—why it seems to me to be a kind of paradise! I wonder half the -world does not come and live here," she replied emphatically.</p> - -<p>To this remark ensued a rather long silence, a silence that was at -length broken by a noise as strange to Helen's ears, as the lovely -scene before her was to her still admiring eyes; this noise was a loud, -fierce, hoarse shout, something like an angry cheer. She glanced at her -father with a somewhat heightened colour, and in answer to her startled -face he said,—</p> - -<p>"Those are the convicts! they leave off work at twelve o'clock, they -are busy on the barracks just now. Stay where you are, and you will see -them pass presently."</p> - -<p>The approach of the convicts was heralded by a faint jingling of chains -that gradually became louder and louder; and in a few moments the -gang came in sight, escorted by four burly, armed warders. Helen drew -back, pale and awe-struck, as she watched this long, silent procession -file past, two and two, all clad in the same blue cotton garment, all -heavily manacled, otherwise there was but little resemblance among -them. There passed the squat Chinaman, chained to the tall, fiery -Pathan (who flung as he went by a glance of bitter hatred and defiance -at the two European spectators); they were in turn followed by a brace -of tattooed Burmans, who seemed rather cheerful than otherwise; then a -few mild Hindoos, then more Arabs, more Burmans, more fierce Rohillas, -more mild Hindoos!</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 27]</span></p> - -<p>Helen stood almost breathless, as they glided by, nor did she speak -till the very last sound of clanking chains had died away in the -distance.</p> - -<p>"Poor creatures! I had forgotten <em>them</em>!" she said; "this place is no -paradise to 'a prisoner.'"</p> - -<p>"Poor creatures!" echoed her father, "the very scum and sweepings -of her Majesty's Indian Empire—poor murderers, poor robbers, poor -dacoits!"</p> - -<p>"And why are they in chains? such heavy cruel-looking chains?"</p> - -<p>"Because they are either recent arrivals or desperate characters, the -former probably; the worst of the 'poor creatures' are not kept in -Ross, but colonized in other gaols on the mainland, or at Viper."</p> - -<p>"And are there many here on Ross?"</p> - -<p>"About four thousand, including women, but some of these have -tickets-of-leave, and only go back to 'section'—<em>section</em> is a -delicate way of putting it—at night; many of them are our servants."</p> - -<p>"<em>Our</em> servants, papa!"</p> - -<p>"No, I am speaking of the settlement, but our boatmen, our -water-carrier, and—I may as well break it to you at once—our cook, -are, each and all, people who have a past that does not bear close -inquiry! And now, my dear, shall we go in to breakfast?"</p> - -<p>It was a delightful change from his usual solitary meal to have that -bright, pretty face sitting opposite to him; he watched her intently -for some minutes—she was pouring out tea with all the delight of a -child.</p> - -<p>"I've never done it before, papa!" she exclaimed as she despatched his -tea-cup; "be sure you don't let Sawmy know, or he will despise me.—Of -course, being at school I never got a chance. Miss Twigg herself -presided over the hot water, and then in the holidays I had much better -tea, but I never made it."</p> - -<p>"Ah, your holidays, Helen; that is what puzzled me so much about your -Aunt Julia. I understood that you were always to spend your vacation -with the Platts."</p> - -<p>"I did once, when I was small, and I do not think they liked me; so -after a lapse of five years they tried me again—I suppose to see if I - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 28]</span> - -was improved; but these holidays were even <em>worse</em> than the others. I -have a quick temper, and I got into fearful trouble."</p> - -<p>"How?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, it's a very old story, and I hope and trust that I have more -command of my feelings now. I remember I was in the room at afternoon -tea, rather by accident, for I usually took that refreshment -in"—lowering her voice to a stage whisper—"the kitchen! My cousins -are a good deal older than I am—they were grown up then, I perfectly -recollect, though they declare they were <em>not</em>——"</p> - -<p>"Well, but it is not a question of your cousins' age, but of some -domestic fracas that you were about to tell me."</p> - -<p>"Yes, I'm always wandering from the point. I recollect it was a Sunday -afternoon, some gentlemen were calling, and they noticed me, and talked -to me, and I was flattered, and doubtless pert; they asked Cousin Clara -who I was, and where I and my classic profile came from, and Aunt Julia -told them that I was her poor brother's child, and added something -about—about—no matter."</p> - -<p>Helen had never heard a word with regard to her other parent, save that -she was a beautiful Greek, who had died young. Her picture she had -seen, and this in itself was sufficient for her to idealize her and -adore her memory—for Azalie Denis had the face of an angel! "She—no, -I won't tell you what she said! but I have never forgotten it; in a -passion of rage, and scarcely knowing what I was doing, I snatched up -a cup of scalding tea, and flung it in Aunt Julia's face. Yes! cup -and all! You may imagine the commotion; you can believe that I was -in disgrace. I was led solemnly from the room, and locked away in a -lumber-closet upstairs, where I remained for the rest of my vacation. -Each day I was asked to apologize, and each day I said 'I <em>won't</em>,' so -there I stayed till I went back to school. Ere leaving I was taken down -to my aunt's apartment and told that I was a wicked, bad, abominable -child, and that I would come to an untimely end; and then Cousin Clara -took up a pair of big scissors, and seizing my beautiful thick plait of -hair, sawed and hacked it off close to the nape of my neck!"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 29]</span></p> - -<p>"What! cut off your hair!" exclaimed Colonel Denis, roused to sudden -animation.</p> - -<p>"Yes; though I screamed and struggled, it was of no use. I well -remember the appearance of my poor pigtail in Clara's hand! Well, after -<em>this</em> you will not be surprised to hear that I was never asked to -Upper Cream Street again,—and I was not sorry. I never could get on -with Aunt Julia; I'm so glad that <em>you</em> are not a bit like her, papa! -She used to make me shake in my shoes."</p> - -<p>"And how do you know that I won't do the same?" he asked with a smile.</p> - -<p>"I'm sure you won't. Have another cup of tea, do, please."</p> - -<p>"It's strange that we have so few relations," he said, obediently -passing his cup as he spoke. "Besides your Aunt Julia there's only my -sister Christina; she has been an invalid for years, and never writes."</p> - -<p>"Is not she married to a queer Irishman who lives at a place with a -ridiculous name—Crow-more? And Aunt Julia won't have anything to do -with her?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, your Aunt Julia did not approve of the match. This Sheridan was a -kind of professor that Christina met abroad, a most dreamy, unpractical -genius, with a magnificent head, and a brogue that you could cut with a -hatchet. After living for some years in a small German town, they went -over to Ireland, and there they reside on a property that was left to -him. I write now and then" (and he might have added, enclose a cheque), -"but Christina never sends me a line—I'm afraid they are very badly -off," shaking his head as he stirred his tea.</p> - -<p>"Now tell me something about this delightful place, papa! I've been -reading a good deal about it, I mean the Andamans. They were first -taken possession of in 1789 by the British Government, or rather, the -East India Company, were abandoned in 1796, and resumed in 1858, the -year after the Mutiny; don't I know it all nicely?"</p> - -<p>"You know a great deal more about it than <em>I</em> do."</p> - -<p>"This is Ross, is it not?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, the other settlements are scattered about. People come over here - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 30]</span> - -to church, to shop, to play tennis, and to hear the news."</p> - -<p>"And are there many other people—I don't mean convicts and soldiers?"</p> - -<p>"There are about fifty men, and fifteen or sixteen ladies. No doubt you -will have a good many visitors to-day."</p> - -<p>"Oh, papa! you don't mean it—not to call on <em>me</em>?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, of course; who else would they come to see?"</p> - -<p>"It makes me feel quite nervous, the palms of my hands are cold -already; only six weeks ago I was doing French composition and German -translation, and not daring to speak above my breath without leave. And -now all at once I am grown up! I am to receive visitors, I may wear -what I like, and," with an interrogative smile across the table, "do as -I <em>please</em>?"</p> - -<p>"As long as you don't throw cups of tea at people, my dear."</p> - -<p>"Now, papa, I'm very sorry I mentioned that if you are going to use it -against me. But do tell me something about the fifteen ladies,—and who -are likely to come and call."</p> - -<p>"Well, there is Mrs. Creery; she is the wife of the head of the -Foolscap Department, and lives close to this. She—well," hesitating, -"she is a very energetic woman, but her"—hesitating again—"manner -is a little against her! rather arbitrary, you know; but we all have -our faults. Then there is Mrs. Caggett; her husband has some trade -with Burmah, and his wife lives here in preference to Moulmein. Miss -Caggett is our only young lady, and"—rather dubiously—"you will see -what you think of <em>her</em>. Mrs. Home is the wife of the colonel of this -regiment—I'm only second fiddle, you know; you are certain to have a -kind friend in her. Then there is Mrs. Durand, wife of Captain Durand -of the European detachment here; she is away just now, and a great loss -to the place. There are several ladies at out-stations, whom you are -sure to like."</p> - -<p>"I wish I was sure that they would like <em>me</em>," rejoined his daughter -in rather a melancholy voice. "You must bear in mind that I am not -accustomed to the society of grown-up people, and I know that I have -<em>no</em> conversation!"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 31]</span></p> - -<p>"<em>No</em> conversation! and pray what have we been having for the last -three-quarters of an hour?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, that is quite different. I can talk away to you by the week, but -with strangers what can I discuss?—not even the weather, for I don't -know what happens here; it's always fine, I suppose?"</p> - -<p>"You will find plenty to say, I'll engage," returned her father, with -emphasis; "and I have no doubt"—whatever he was going to add was cut -short by the imperious rapping of an umbrella on the wooden steps of -the verandah, and a shrill female voice calling "Boy!"</p> - -<hr class="r15" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV.<br /><br /> -<span class="small">MISS DENIS HAS VISITORS.</span></h2> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container33"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="blockquot"> -<div class="verse">"What's his name and birth? I cannot delve him to the root."</div> - </div> - </div> - </div> -</div> -<div class="sig-left60"><span style="margin-left: 1em;"><cite>Shakespeare.</cite></span></div> - -<p>"<span class="smcap">There</span> is Mrs. Creery!" exclaimed Colonel Denis, starting up rather -nervously. "She has come to call <em>first</em>. Don't keep her waiting." To -Helen, who was hastily smoothing her hair and pulling out her ruffles, -"You will do first-rate; go into the drawing-room, my dear."</p> - -<p>"Yes, but not alone, papa!" taking him by the arm. "You will have to -introduce us—you must come with me."</p> - -<p>You see she had begun to say <em>must</em> already!—Colonel Denis was by no -means reluctant to present his pearl of daughters to the visitor who -had prognosticated that she would be plain, and he was sufficiently -human to enjoy that lady's stare of stolid astonishment, as she took -Helen's hand, and kept it in hers for quite a minute, whilst she -leisurely studied her face.</p> - -<p>"How do you do, Miss Denis? had you a good passage?"</p> - -<p>"Very good, thank you," replied the young lady demurely.</p> - -<p>"I see," sitting down as she spoke, and specially addressing Colonel -Denis, "that you have had new curtains and purdahs put up, and have - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 32]</span> - -actually bought that white marble table that Kursandoss had so long on -hand! How much did you give for it?"</p> - -<p>"One hundred rupees," replied the purchaser in a guilty voice.</p> - -<p>"Heavens and earth!" casting up hands and eyes, "did any one ever -hear of such folly! It is not worth <em>thirty</em>. Miss Denis, it's a good -thing that you have come out to look after your father—he is a most -extravagant man!"</p> - -<p>Helen thought that this was a pleasantry, and laughed immoderately. -Mrs. Creery was really most amusing,—but how oddly she was dressed! -She was quite old, in Helen's eyes (in truth she was not far from -fifty), and yet she was attired in a white muslin polonaise trimmed -with rose-coloured bows, and wore a black sailor's hat, with the -letters <em>Bacchante</em> stamped in gold upon the ribbon! Meanwhile the -elder lady had been taking a great deal of interest in Miss Denis's -pretty morning-dress; she had come to the conclusion that the pattern -was too complicated to be what is called "carried away in her eye," and -was resolved to ask for it boldly,—and that before she was many days -older!</p> - -<p>"You may go up to the mess," she said, playfully dismissing her host -with a wave of her plump, mittened hand. "I want to have a chat with -your daughter alone. I came to see her—<em>you</em> are no novelty!"</p> - -<p>"Now, my dear, we shall be quite comfortable," she said, as Colonel -Denis meekly took his departure. "Did you find him much changed?" she -continued, lowering her voice mysteriously.</p> - -<p>"A little, but not"—smiling—"<em>nearly</em> as much changed as I seem to -him!"</p> - -<p>"How much is he going to allow you for the housekeeping?"</p> - -<p>Helen assured her questioner that the subject had not even been -considered.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Creery, on hearing this, was visibly disappointed, and said rather -tartly,—</p> - -<p>"Well, don't listen to anything under five rupees a day—you could not -do it less. The Durands spend that! The Homes <em>say</em> they manage on -four, but that's nonsense, and the children could not be half fed. - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 33]</span> - -Maybe your father will still leave it to Ram Sawmy, but"—with sudden -energy—"you must not hear of that,—the man is a robber!"</p> - -<p>"He has been twenty years with papa," ventured Helen.</p> - -<p>"So much the worse for your father's <em>pocket</em>," returned Mrs. Creery -emphatically. "I suppose you have brought out a number of new gowns? -What have you got?"</p> - -<p>"I have a white silk, and a black silk," replied Helen, with some -exultation in her own mind, for they were her first silk dresses.</p> - -<p>"Both perfectly useless here!" snapped the matron.</p> - -<p>"A riding-habit."</p> - -<p>"Stark, staring madness! There's not a horse between this and -Calcutta—unless a clothes-horse! What else?"</p> - -<p>"A cashmere and plush costume."</p> - -<p>"You may just send it back to England, or throw it away."</p> - -<p>Helen paused aghast.</p> - -<p>"Well, well—go on, go on—that's not <em>all</em>, surely?"</p> - -<p>"I have some pretty cottons and muslins, and a tennis-dress."</p> - -<p>"Come, that's better; and when are your boxes to be opened?"</p> - -<p>"This afternoon, if possible."</p> - -<p>"Oh, well, I'll come down and see your things to-morrow; I may get -some new ideas, and we are a little behind-hand with the fashions -here," waving once more her mittened hand. "And now to turn to another -subject! It's a great responsibility for a young girl like you to be -placed at the head of even a <em>small</em> establishment like this! I am -older than you are" (it was quite superfluous to mention this fact), "I -know the world, and I wish to give you a word of caution."</p> - -<p>Helen became crimson.</p> - -<p>"I hope you are a steady, sensible girl."</p> - -<p>"I hope so, Mrs. Creery," raising her chin in a manner well known to -Miss Twigg,—a manner betokening insurrection.</p> - -<p>"There now, don't be huffy! I mean to be your friend. I would have - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 34]</span> - -come down and stayed here for the first week or two, to set you going, -if your father had asked me, as you have no lady in the house; however, -I've spoken to him most seriously. All the men in the place will of -course be flocking to call, and turning your head with their silly -compliments. As a rule they are not a bad set of young fellows; but Mr. -Quentin and Captain Rodney are the only two who <em>I</em> should say were in -a position to marry,—the others are just paupers—butterflies! Oh, and -yes"—here her voice became hollow and mysterious—"I must put you on -your guard against a Mr. Lisle."</p> - -<p>"A Mr. Lisle!" echoed Helen, opening her eyes very wide.</p> - -<p>"Yes, Lisle—don't forget the name. He seldom comes over; he lives at -Aberdeen with Mr. Quentin—lives <em>on</em> him, I should say," correcting -herself sharply. "He came here a few months ago—goodness knows from -where. It is generally believed that he is in <em>hiding</em>—that he is -under a cloud; he is poor as a rat, has no visible means of livelihood, -and is as close as wax about his past. However, Mr. Quentin shields -him, keeps his secret, and there is nothing more to be said except -this—don't <em>you</em> have anything to say to him; he may have the -impudence to call, but indeed, to give him his due, he does not push. -It is a most unpleasant feeling to have this black sheep living in -the neighbourhood at all; I wish he was well out of the settlement!" -shaking her head expressively.</p> - -<p>Helen, amazed at Mrs. Creery's volubility, sat staring at her in -speechless surprise. Why should she take such pains to warn her against -a man who she admitted did not push, and whom she was not likely to -see? Another knocking in the verandah, and a rather timid voice calling -"Boy!" announced the arrival of a second visitor, and Mrs. Creery rose, -saying,—</p> - -<p>"You will be coming up to the General's tennis this evening, and -we shall meet again, so I won't say good-bye;" then, casting one -last searching glance around the apartment, she, as if seized by -some afterthought, hurried across, coolly pulled back the purdah -(door-curtain), and looked into the dining-room. "Nothing new <em>there</em>, -I see," dropping the drapery after a long, exhaustive stare; "nothing - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 35]</span> - -but a filter! Well, <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">au revoir</i>," and nodding approvingly at Helen, she -finally took her departure.</p> - -<p>The new arrival was a complete contrast to the parting guest; a pale, -faded, but still pretty little woman, with imploring dark eyes (like -a newly-caught fawn), attired in a neat white dress, a solar topee, -and respectable gloves. She was Mrs. Home, the wife of Colonel Denis's -commanding officer, and the mother, as she plaintively informed Helen, -of no less than nine children!</p> - -<p>"They make me so dreadfully anxious, dear Miss Denis, especially the -seven at home. I live on tenter-hooks from mail-day to mail-day. -Imagine my feelings when they were <em>all</em> in measles last spring!"</p> - -<p>But this was a feat beyond Helen.</p> - -<p>"You have two here?" she asked politely, after a pause.</p> - -<p>"Yes, Tom and Billy. Your father is so fond of them, and they wanted -so much to come and see you. But I told them you would think them a -trouble—and the first call too!"</p> - -<p>Helen eagerly assured her visitor that they would have been most -welcome, and rushing impulsively out of the room, returned with a box -of chocolate-creams she had purchased for her own delectation; which -she sent to the young gentlemen with her best love, requesting that -they would come and call as soon as possible. This gift, and message, -completely won their mother's heart. At first she had been a little -doubtful, a little in awe, of this pretty, fashionable-looking girl, -but now she became much warmer in manner, and said,—</p> - -<p>"You know, my dear, I'm not a society lady, I have no time for gaiety, -even if I were fitted for it; between sewing for my boys and girls -at home, and my letters, and my housekeeping, not to mention Tom and -Billy, I never seem to have a spare moment. I came down here early on -purpose, hoping to be the <em>first</em> to welcome you, but I was late after -all!" and she smiled deprecatingly. "Your father is such a very dear -friend of ours, that I feel as if I had a kind of claim on you, and -hope you won't stand on ceremony with us, but come to see us as often -as you can. Will you?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 36]</span></p> - -<p>"I shall be very glad indeed, thank you."</p> - -<p>"You see, you and I being the only ladies in the 'Puggarees' too,—it -is a kind of bond, is it not? If I can help you in any way about -your housekeeping, be sure you let me know, won't you? I am an old -campaigner of fifteen years' standing, and everything, of course, is -quite new to you. You and your father, I hope, will come up and dine -with us quietly to-morrow night, and then you and I can have a very -nice long chat."</p> - -<p>Helen thanked Mrs. Home for her invitation, and said that if her father -was not engaged, she was sure they would be most happy to accept it.</p> - -<p>"And now, my dear," said the little lady, rising, "I must really go! -the Dhoby has been waiting for me at home this half-hour, I know, and -I have all the clean clothes to sort, so I will wish you good-bye. -May I kiss you?" holding Helen's hand, and looking at her with timid, -appealing eyes. Helen became rather red, but smiled assent, thereupon -the salute was exchanged, and Mrs. Home presently took her departure.</p> - -<p>After this visit, there was a long interval. Colonel and Miss Denis -were equipped and ready to start for the General's tennis party, when -Sawmy brought in another card; a small one this time, bearing the name -of "Mr. James Quentin." The card was almost instantly followed by that -gentleman, looking as if he had just stepped out of a band-box. Having -cordially wrung his host's hand, and been presented to his daughter, -he seated himself near the young lady, placed his hat on the floor, -and commenced to discuss the climate, her passage, &c., surveying the -new arrival critically at the same time. "She was much prettier than -he expected," he said to himself as he summed her up; "her profile -was not classical, but it would pass; her eyes were fine in shape and -colour, though their expression was rather too merry for <em>his</em> taste; -he imagined that she had plenty of spirits, and but a meagre supply of -sentiment. Her complexion was perfect, but of course <em>that</em> would not -last three months!" On the whole, he was most agreeably surprised, and -her dainty dress, and ladylike deportment, were as refreshing to his -eyes, as a spring of water to a traveller in the desert! The shape - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 37]</span> - -of her hat, the fit of her long gloves, her brilliant colour, and -pure English accent, all mentally carried him back to the Park once -more—his Mecca! Yes, the fall of Miss Denis's draperies, the very lace -in her ruffles, were each a source of gratification to her visitor, who -had a keen eye for such things, and was a connoisseur in toilettes. -He told himself emphatically that this young lady was "no end of a -find!" but, aloud, he politely inquired if Colonel and Miss Denis were -going up to the tennis. They were. Well, he was going too—a sudden -resolution—and might he be permitted to accompany them?</p> - -<p>Mr. James Quentin felt an additional sense of importance, as he -strolled up the narrow path towards the General's grounds, personally -conducting Miss Denis (coolly leaving her father to bring up the rear -alone, as the pathway was too narrow to permit of three abreast), and -he honestly believed, that the young lady beside him could not be -launched into settlement society under happier, or more distinguished, -auspices.</p> - -<hr class="r15" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V.<br /><br /> -<span class="small">WHAT IS SHE LIKE?</span></h2> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container39"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="blockquot"> -<div class="verse first-line">"So sweet a face, such angel grace,</div> -<div class="verse">In all that land had never been."</div> - </div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Helen</span> found her reception a most trying ordeal. She was very cordially -welcomed by the General, who instantly came forward to meet her, and -escorted her towards Mrs. Creery; she ran the gauntlet of two groups -of men who were standing on the tennis-ground, ostensibly discussing -the recent mail, but naturally watching the new arrival, who was the -cynosure of every eye, as she passed by; and approached a row of seats -on which the ladies—a still more formidable phalanx—were seated in -state. Mrs. Creery (who occupied the social throne in the shape of a -stuffed arm-chair) now rose majestically, and, like Cedric the Saxon, -advanced two steps, saying in her most dulcet company voice, "Very - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 38]</span> - -glad you have come, Miss Denis; I am <em>charmed</em> to welcome you to Port -Blair!"</p> - -<p>Helen blushed vividly. Was this august, this almost regal, individual, -the same who had questioned, exhorted, and warned her, a few hours -previously? She could scarcely believe it! But this was merely her -ignorance. That visit had been made in a private capacity, here Mrs. -Creery was in a public and responsible position—that of chief lady of -the station.</p> - -<p>She now took Helen's hand in hers, and proceeded to present her to her -immediate circle.</p> - -<p>"Mrs. Caggett, let me introduce Miss Denis."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Caggett rose, made a kind of plunge, intended for a curtsey, and -subsided again, muttering incoherently.</p> - -<p>"Miss Denis, Mrs. Graham. Mrs. Graham is our musician. She sings and -plays most beautifully!"</p> - -<p>Mrs. Graham, who was a pretty brunette, with lovely teeth, shook hands -with Helen, and smiled significantly, as much as to say, "You must not -mind Mrs. Creery."</p> - -<p>"Miss Denis, Mrs. King.—Mrs. King has a nice little girl, and lives at -Viper."</p> - -<p>"Miss Denis, Mrs. Logan, our authoress." Poor Mrs. Logan blushed till -the tears came into her eyes, and said,—</p> - -<p>"Oh, Mrs. Creery, <em>please</em> don't."</p> - -<p>"Nonsense, nonsense! Miss Denis, she has written the <em>sweetest</em> -poetry—one really exquisite ode, called, let me see, 'The Lifer's -Lament,' and numbers of charming sonnets! You must get her to read them -to you, some day."</p> - -<p>Alas for Mrs. Logan! who in a moment of foolish expansiveness had -mentioned her small poems (under the seal of secrecy) to another lady, -and had, to her horror, "awoke and found herself famous!"</p> - -<p>"Mrs. Manners, Miss Denis," and she paused, as if deliberating on what -she could possibly say for Mrs. Manners.</p> - -<p>"Please don't mind about <em>me</em>, Mrs. Creery," exclaimed that lady. "You -know that I neither play, nor sing, nor write poetry."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 39]</span></p> - -<p>Mrs. Manners was a sprightly person, regarded by Mrs. Creery with -suspicion and dislike, and she now glowered on her menacingly.</p> - -<p>"I am very glad to see Miss Denis, and I hope she will overlook my -numerous deficiencies!" quoth Mrs. Manners unabashed.</p> - -<p>All the ladies had now been, as it were, "told off," excepting Miss -Caggett, who approached and squeezed Helen's fingers, and looked up in -her face, and said,—</p> - -<p>"So <em>thankful</em>, dear, that you have come! It's so wretched for me, -being the only girl in the settlement. You can't think how I have been -looking forward to <em>this</em>," another squeeze.</p> - -<p>Miss Lizzie Caggett was small in person (and mind) and had a very -pretty little figure, black hair, bright, reddish-brown eyes, an ugly -nose, and an almost lipless mouth, garnished with beautiful teeth. -She had been born in India, had had three years at school in England, -and been "out" for a considerable number of seasons. She danced like -a sylph, talked Hindostani like a native (and it was whispered that -she gossipped with her ayah in that language), dressed extravagantly, -was as lively as a French-woman, and sufficiently nice-looking to be -considered a beauty—where she was the only unmarried lady among fifty -men.</p> - -<p>She had a shrewd eye to the main chance, and never allowed her feelings -to betray her, save, alas! in the case of James Quentin!</p> - -<p>He, from sheer lack of something to do, had been wont to spend his -idle hours in Miss Caggett's society. She was amusing and lively, and -said such deliciously spiteful things of other women, and told capital -stories, accompanied by vehement gesticulation with her tiny hands. She -had also a nice little voice,—and it came to pass that they sang duets -together, and walked on the pier by moonlight alone!</p> - -<p>Mr. Quentin meant nothing, of course, and at first Lizzie quite -understood this, but by degrees her strong foothold of common sense -slipped away from under her feet, and she fell desperately in love with -the blue-eyed gay deceiver, and naturally tried to convince herself -that it was mutual! She steeled herself to see him pay a little - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 40]</span> - -attention to the rising sun—Miss Helen Denis—they would <em>all</em> do -that, but when the novelty had worn off, things would right themselves, -and fall back into their old places—meaning that Mr. Quentin would -fall back into his, <i>i.e.</i>, at her side. Mrs. Creery had previously -broken the news to her that "Helen Denis was nice-looking, and -beautifully dressed," but she was by no means prepared for the face and -figure she beheld coming up the walk; and James Quentin in attendance -<em>already</em>,—actually before she was twenty-four hours on the island! -However, she made a brave struggle, and bit her lips, and clenched her -small hands, and broke into a smile. She had made up her mind to be -the bosom friend (outwardly), and, if possible, the confidante of this -tall, shy-looking Denis girl!</p> - -<p>After all, who could expect her to be pleased, to see a young and -pretty rival monopolizing every one's attention, and thrusting her into -the background?</p> - -<p>When all the introductions had been effected, a game of tennis was got -up, and a number of little Andamanese boys, in white tunics and scarlet -caps, came forward from some lurking-place, to field the balls, and the -settlement band, which was stationed at the end of the plateau, struck -up their latest waltz, and presently the entertainment was in full -swing. Every one played tennis, even Mrs. Creery, who was old or young -as it suited her at the moment—old enough to ask questions, to give -advice, and to lay down the law, and to be treated with unquestioning -deference and deep respect; sufficiently young to waltz, to wear sailor -hats, and to disport herself at tennis. Helen had been the championess -player at Miss Twigg's, and played well. Lizzie Caggett's sharp eyes -noted this, and after a little while she challenged her to a single set -there and then.</p> - -<p>Vainly did Helen decline to pick up the gauntlet, vainly did she beg -to be excused; Mrs. Creery threw the weight of her authority into the -scale, and the match was to come off immediately.</p> - -<p>"A capital idea, a match between the two girls," she remarked to the -General; "there will just be time for it before tea."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 41]</span></p> - -<p>Before Helen could realize her position, a ball was thrust into her -hand, a crowd had gathered around, and she alone stood <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">vis-à-vis</i> to -Lizzie Caggett on the tennis-ground. It was one thing to play in Miss -Twigg's back-garden, with no spectators but Miss Twigg's girls, but -quite another affair when one of the principals in a contest, before -forty complete strangers, and pitted against a determined-looking -antagonist, who knew every inch of the courts, and was firmly resolved -to try conclusions with this brilliant visitor!</p> - -<p>And so the match began, the assembled bystanders watching each game -intently, and hanging expectant on the issue of each stroke. The -excitement grew intense, for the ladies were well-matched, the play -was brilliant, and the games hard fought. Helen served well, and had -a longer reach of arm than her challenger, but the other played with -an energy, a vivacity, and if one might say so, a spitefulness,—as if -the issue of the contest was a matter of life and death. She scored -the first game, Helen the second and third, and during a rally in the -latter, the new arrival was loudly clapped. This incited Miss Caggett -to extraordinary exertions. She played with redoubled fire, her teeth -were set, her eyes gleamed across the net, she served as though in -hopes that she would strike her opponent in the face; she flitted up -and down her court, springing and bounding, like a panther in a cage! -Her style was by no means graceful, but it was effectual. During -the last two games she wearied out Helen, with her quick, untiring -onslaught, playing the final, and conquering game, with an exuberance -of force that was almost fierce! When it was over, she threw down her -bat and clapped her hands, and cried,—</p> - -<p>"Oh, I knew I could beat you." This was not, strictly speaking, polite, -but her triumph was so great, she really could not refrain from this -little song of victory. In her own heart, she had made a kind of test -of the match, and told herself that, if she conquered the new-comer in -<em>this</em>, she would be invincible in other things as well!</p> - -<p>After this exciting struggle, tea and refreshments were served in a -rustic summer-house. Mrs. Creery's dog Nip—who had occupied his - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 42]</span> - -mistress's chair as deputy, and eyed the cake and bread and butter with -demure rascality,—was now called upon to vacate his place, whilst his -owner dispensed tea and coffee, and servants carried round cakes and -ices. As Helen was partaking of one of the latter, her late antagonist -accosted her and said,—</p> - -<p>"Come and take a turn with me, dear. All the men are having 'pegs,' and -I do so want to have a chat with you.</p> - -<p>"Well, now," taking her arm affectionately, "tell me what you think of -the place?"</p> - -<p>"I think it is beautiful," returned Helen with enthusiasm. "I've never -seen anything like it. Of course I've seen very little of the world, -and am not a good judge, but I scarcely think that any scenery could -surpass it," glancing over towards Mount Harriet as she spoke, and -dreamily watching the peacocks sailing homewards.</p> - -<p>This speech was a disappointment to Miss Caggett, who was in hopes that -she would have called it an "unearthly, outlandish, savage hole, a -gaol!" And then she would have imparted this opinion to the settlement -at large,—and such an opinion would have scored a point against Miss -Helen.</p> - -<p>"Oh," she replied, "you won't think it delightful always. It's -frightful in the monsoons, that is in the rains, you know. And how do -you like the people?"</p> - -<p>"I scarcely know them yet."</p> - -<p>"Well, at least you know Mr. Quentin," eyeing her sharply.</p> - -<p>"Yes, I have known him an <em>hour</em>," she replied with a laugh.</p> - -<p>"He is nice enough," speaking with assumed nonchalance, "but as you can -see, awfully conceited, isn't he?"</p> - -<p>Helen did not fall into the trap; if she had, Miss Caggett would have -lost no time in giving Apollo the benefit of Miss Denis's impressions -with regard to him!</p> - -<p>She only said, "Is he?" and, leaning her elbows on the wooden railing -that fenced in the edge of the cliff, looked down upon the sea.</p> - -<p>"A great many men are here from Aberdeen and the out-stations," - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 43]</span> - -proceeded Miss Caggett with a backward jerk of her head, "but they did -not come over altogether to see <em>you</em>."</p> - -<p>"I should hope not indeed," returned Helen, reddening.</p> - -<p>"No, the mail is in, so they kill two birds with one stone," continued -the other, coolly. "They are not a bad set, though they may seem rough -and unpolished to you, don't they?"</p> - -<p>"Really, I am no judge; I have scarcely ever spoken to a gentleman in -my life."</p> - -<p>"Gracious!" ejaculated Miss Caggett. "You weren't in a convent?"</p> - -<p>"No; but what amounted to the same thing, I spent all my holidays at -school."</p> - -<p>"Oh, <em>how</em> slow for you! Well, you will find this rather a change. -There is Dr. Malone, an Irishman, and very amusing; he has any amount -of impudence, and has thought of a lovely name for Mrs. Creery—Mrs. -Query—isn't it splendid? We all call her that, for she never stops -asking questions, and we all have to answer them whether we like it or -not—all but one; there is one person she never gets anything out of, -he is too close even for her, and clever—I grant him that,—much as I -detest him!"</p> - -<p>"And who is this clever man that baffles Mrs. Creery?"</p> - -<p>"A Mr. Lisle, a genteel loafer, a hanger-on of Mr. Quentin's; he -actually has not got the money to pay his passage back to Calcutta, and -so he is obliged to stay. His manners are odious, polite to rudeness, -if you know what that means? and he has eyes that seem to look down -into your inmost thoughts, and laugh at what they see there! I hate -him, though he is extremely anxious to be civil to me, and, in fact, I -don't mind telling you in confidence that he is a great <em>admirer</em> of -mine,—but it's by no means mutual. Whatever you do, have nothing to -say to him. I need not tell you, that <em>I</em> never speak to him!"</p> - -<p>"We cannot permit you two young ladies to monopolize each other in this -fashion," said the General, approaching with a telescope in his hand. -"Would you like to look at some of the islands through this glass, -Miss Denis? I can introduce you to several this fine clear evening. - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 44]</span> - -Havelock looks quite close!"</p> - -<p>"It seems to be very large," she said, after a long struggle with the -focus.</p> - -<p>"Well, yes, it is; we will take you there some day in the <i>Enterprise</i> -if you like. The <i>Enterprise</i> is the station steamer."</p> - -<p>"Thank you, I should like it very much indeed, if it is <em>safe</em>—I mean, -if the people are safe," she replied rather anxiously.</p> - -<p>"Oh! you will see very little of the natives. They are a curious set; -it is almost impossible to get at them, or to tame them."</p> - -<p>"Have you ever tried?"</p> - -<p>"Yes; we once had a young fellow from Havelock, as it happened; we -showed him every kindness, gave him the best of food, loaded him with -beads and every old tall hat on the island, but it was all of <em>no</em> use; -he just fretted like a bird in a cage, and regularly pined away of home -sickness.—He used to sit all day long, gazing, gazing over the sea in -the direction of his home, and one morning when they went to see him, -they found him sitting in his usual attitude, his face turned towards -Havelock—quite dead!"</p> - -<p>"Poor, poor fellow!" said Helen, with tears in her eyes; "how <em>could</em> -you be so cruel, how could you have had the heart to keep him?"</p> - -<p>"My dear young lady, it was not a matter of heart, but of duty."</p> - -<p>Mr. Quentin's quick ear caught the significant word <em>heart</em>. Surely the -General was never going to enter the lists against him, although he was -unmarried and eligible beyond dispute? Leaning his elbows on the rail -at the other side of Miss Denis, he resolved to make a third—welcome -or otherwise—and said,—</p> - -<p>"You are talking of the natives, sir? They are certainly most -mysterious aborigines, for they do not resemble the Hindoos on -one side, nor the Malays on the other. They are more like stunted -niggers—you never see a man above five feet, some not more than four."</p> - -<p>"Niggers, yes," replied the General; "there is some idea that they - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 45]</span> - -are descendants of the cargo of a slaver that was wrecked among these -islands; other people think that they hail from New Guinea."</p> - -<p>"They have very odd customs, have they not?" asked Helen.</p> - -<p>"Yes," replied the General; "their mode of sepulture, for instance, is -peculiar. When a man dies, they simply put his body up a tree."</p> - -<p>("Whence the slang term 'up a tree,' I suppose," muttered Mr. Quentin, -<i xml:lang="it" lang="it">sotto voce</i>.)</p> - -<p>"And when the fowls of the air have picked his bones, they remove the -remains, and present his skull to the widow, who wears it round her -neck, slung to a string."</p> - -<p>"But will freely part with it at any time," added Dr. Malone, who had -now joined the group, "aye, even in the early days of her affliction, -in consideration of a bottle of rum."</p> - -<p>"And pray what about the <em>men</em>?" inquired Helen, jealous for her sex.</p> - -<p>"Oh, their tastes are comparatively simple," responded the doctor; -"they are all a prey to a devouring passion for—you will never guess -what—<em>tall hats</em>! I believe some firm in Calcutta drives a brisk trade -with this place and the Nicobars, bartering old tiles for cocoa-nuts. -When a chief dies, he can have no nobler monument in the eyes of his -survivors than a pile of tall hats impaled above his grave. They are -almost the only article they care about, and I suppose they have an -idea that it endows them with dignity and height; besides the hat, a -few rags, and a necklace of human finger-bones, and their costume is -complete."</p> - -<p>"They have another weakness," put in the General—"dogs. We get rid of -all the barrack curs in that way."</p> - -<p>"What! to <em>eat</em>?" almost screamed Miss Denis.</p> - -<p>"No, no; they are very much prized—merely to look at. I wish to -goodness we could export that brute of Mrs. Creery's!"</p> - -<p>"She would far sooner be exported herself!" said Dr. Malone. "What was -his last feat, sir?"</p> - -<p>"I wish I could believe that it <em>was</em> his last," returned the General -angrily. "The other day, when Mrs. Creery was dining up at my place, - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 46]</span> - -she unfortunately shut him up in the drawing-room, and for sheer spite -at missing the meal, he tore up a valuable fur rug, gutted the seats of -two chairs, and ate the best part of the last army list! Yes, you may -laugh, Miss Denis, and it certainly sounds very funny—but you don't -know Nip."</p> - -<p>"No, but <em>I</em> do," cried Dr. Malone. "He lies down and feigns death -if he sees a larger dog coming in the distance, and will murder any -unfortunate pup of half his size; some dogs have a sense of chivalry, -generosity, gratitude, but he is a <em>brute</em>!"</p> - -<p>"Yes," chimed in Mr. Quentin, "if things are not going to his liking, -he adjourns to Creery's dressing-room, and devours a couple of pairs -of boots; that is to say, tears and gnaws them to pieces, just to mark -his sense of injury. If they only disagreed with him!—but they don't, -and Creery can't even have the poor satisfaction of licking him; for -whenever Nip sees him arming himself with a stick, he at once fastens -on his leg, believing the first blow to be half the battle!"</p> - -<p>"A portrait from life!" exclaimed Dr. Malone. "I wish I might be -allowed a shot at him at 100 yards!"</p> - -<p>"I wish you might; and if you do get the chance, I'll wink at it," -returned the General; "he is an insufferable nuisance—a savage, mean, -mischievous, lazy, cowardly——"</p> - -<p>"Now, now, General," cried Nip's mistress, coming across the grass in -a swinging walk, her arms dangling loosely at her sides, "what is all -this wonderful laughing about? and who are you abusing—man, woman, -or child? It's seldom that you say a word against any one! Come, who -is it? Shall I guess who is mischievous, lazy, and <em>mean</em>? Now really -you might let <em>me</em> into the secret, when it's known to Miss Denis. -Can it be any one in Ross? Dear me!"—with sudden animation,—"I have -it!—it's——"</p> - -<p>Of course she was just about to exclaim "Mr. Lisle," when the General -hastily interrupted her, saying, "We were not talking scandal; it was -merely a little joke of ours"—looking appealingly at Dr. Malone and -Helen, who were choking with suppressed laughter—indeed the very -railings behind the former were shaking dangerously,—"it was only - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 47]</span> - -a miserable jest, Mrs. Creery," reiterated the General, nervously -(seeing that her mind was bent on dragging the secret from his bosom), -"that was all, really, you know. And, by-the-way," lowering his -voice, and speaking confidentially, "I wanted to consult you about -something—about getting up a little dinner for Miss Denis."</p> - -<p>To be consulted, and by the General, was much to Mrs. Creery's mind, -so she immediately walked aside with him, prepared to give her whole -attention to the discussion. It now was nearly eight o'clock, and -people were leaving. Helen was escorted to her own door by Dr. Malone -and Mr. Quentin, Colonel Denis once more bringing up the rear, but -this time he had a companion—Miss Caggett. Mr. Quentin lingered below -the steps of the verandah, and squeezed Helen's fingers as he took a -very reluctant leave of her. He half hoped that he would have been -earnestly requested to honour them with his company at dinner, but this -hope was doomed to disappointment, he was dismissed by Colonel Denis -with a careless nod! Later on, as Helen sat alone in the verandah, and -looked out over the sea, recalling the scenes of this most wonderful, -eventful day, and dwelling on all the new faces she had seen and the -strange things she had heard, it is an extraordinary, but veracious -fact, that—with the perversity common to her sex—she cast more than -one thought to a man she had been twice warned against in the same -afternoon, in short, Mr. Quentin's pauper-friend, Gilbert Lisle.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Meanwhile Mr. Quentin had been rowed over to Aberdeen, had climbed the -hill in capital spirits, and with a healthy appetite; and had found -his companion already at home, reposing in an arm-chair in front of -the bungalow, smoking. He fully expected to be severely cross-examined -about his visit, and on the subject of Miss Denis, and was prepared to -enter into the fullest details, and to paint the lady in the richest -tints, but, alas! a disappointment awaited him. Lisle never once -referred to Ross—much less to the young lady. He had had a big take of -fish, and had caught three bottle-nosed sharks off the Red Buoy—bait, - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 48]</span> - -hooks, and nets engrossed his mind entirely.</p> - -<p>Mr. Quentin was seriously affronted. Was ever such callousness known? -could such indifference be matched? Indifference that would not even -take the trouble to ask such a simple question as "What is she like?"</p> - -<hr class="r15" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI.<br /><br /> -<span class="small">QUEEN OF THE CANNIBAL ISLANDS.</span></h2> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container39"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="blockquot"> -<div class="verse first-line">"An eye like mine,</div> -<div class="verse">A lidless watcher of the public weal."</div> - </div> - </div> - </div> -</div> -<div class="sig-left60"><cite>Tennyson.</cite></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Perhaps</span> it would be as well, before going further with this story, to -dedicate a page or two to a description of that very important lady, -Mrs. Creery. The gentleman who occupied a position in the background -as "Mrs. Creery's husband," was a hard-working, hard-headed Scotchman, -who thoroughly understood domestic politics, and the art of holding his -peace. He had come to Port Blair soon after the settlement was opened -up, and had subsequently gone home, and returned with a bride, a lady -not, strictly speaking, in her first youth—this was twenty years ago. -But let no one suppose that Mrs. Creery had spent the whole of that -interval on Ross. She had made several trips to England, and had passed -like a meteor through the circles in which her sister, Lady Grubb, was -as the sun. Oh, how utterly weary were Mrs. Creery's intimates of those -brilliant reminiscences—heard for the thousandth time. Did they not, -one and all, detest the very name of "Grubb"?</p> - -<p>How was it, people asked each other, that Mrs. Creery had reigned so -long and so tyrannically at Ross? How came she to occupy a position, -from which nothing could dislodge her—there had been mutinies, there -had been social risings, but they all had been quelled. Even a lady - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 49]</span> - -who had positively refused to go in to dinner, unless she was taken in -before Mrs. Creery, had been quenched! Circumstances had placed the -latter on the social throne, and not election by ballot, much less -the potent power of personal popularity. The General was a widower, -the chaplain a bachelor, the next senior officer unmarried also, the -wife of another was an invalid, and spent nearly all her time in the -south of France (according to Mrs. Creery, for south of France, read -lunatic asylum). She herself was a woman of robust constitution, and -always ready to say "present," consequently, the position of leading -lady in the settlement fell to her happy lot! She "received" at the -General's parties and dances, she occupied a chief place at feasts, -a front pew in church, and had a whole programme to herself on band -nights. After all, there was not much in this, one would imagine; but -Mrs. Creery thought otherwise. The General, an urbane and popular -elderly gentleman, was governor over the Andamans, in the Queen's name; -he was her Majesty's representative, and held the lives of fifteen -thousand convicts in the hollow of his hand; his dominions stretched -from the Cocos to Havelock, and included even the distant Nicobars. As -his social coadjutor, Mrs. Andrew Creery considered that she shared -all his other dignities, and had gradually come to look upon herself -as a species of crowned head, ruling not merely the settlement, the -Europeans, and the convicts, but even the far-away savages of the -interior! These royal ideas had developed but gradually—a little germ -(sown by the first strains of "God save the Queen," played as she -accompanied the General to a presentation of prizes) had thrown out -roots and suckers, and planted a sense of her own dignity in her bosom, -that nothing but death could eradicate!</p> - -<p>Mrs. Creery had no children and ample leisure, and with such a -magnificent idea of her social status, no one will be surprised to hear -that she condescended to manage the domestic concerns of all within her -realms. She had come to look upon this as a sacred duty, and viewed all -comings and goings with microscopic scrutiny. The position of her house -favoured this self-imposed supervision; it was close to the pier, had - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 50]</span> - -a good back view of the bazaar, and the principal road ran by her door, -and consequently it is no exaggeration to say that <em>nothing</em> escaped -her. From long practice she could tell at a glance where people were -going as they ran the gauntlet of her verandah; if the General wore -a "regulation" helmet, he was probably <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">en route</i> to an execution at -Viper (an island five miles away); if his Terai, he was bound for the -new buildings on Aberdeen, or to make semi-official calls; if his old -topee, he was merely going out shelling. Ross was a small island, very -thickly populated. Mrs. Creery could easily make the circuit of it in -twenty minutes, and did so at least thrice in the twenty-four hours.</p> - -<p>She had no home ties, no domestic tastes; she did not care for flowers -nor work; never opened a book, and looked upon shelling as childish -nonsense. Her one taste was for poultry; her one passion, her dog -"Nip," and when she had fed her hens, collected their eggs, given out -daily stores, scolded her domestics, she had nothing to occupy her for -the remainder of the day. After early breakfast she generally donned -her well-known topee, and sallied forth on a tour of inspection; to -quote Captain Rodney, who could not endure her, she "turned out" each -family at least once daily, and never omitted "visiting rounds." She -had by this time pretty well exhausted Ross—and the patience of its -inhabitants; she knew every one's affairs, and what they paid their -servants (and what their servants said of them in the bazaar), and what -stores they got in, just as well as they did themselves.</p> - -<p>Mr. Lisle had undoubtedly baffled her (though she had not done with him -yet); however, Helen Denis was a novelty, and opened up an entirely new -sphere of interest; therefore, ere nine o'clock on the day after the -tennis party, Mrs. Creery's umbrella was once again heard imperiously -rapping on the steps of Colonel Denis's verandah.</p> - -<p>"You don't breakfast till twelve, I know," she called out; "for I met -your cook and asked him, and it's only just nine"—this to Helen, who -had come to the drawing-room door. "It's only just nine, and we shall -have a nice long morning to ourselves, and be able to look at your - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 51]</span> - -things comfortably. Are you unpacking now?"</p> - -<p>Helen very reluctantly acknowledged that she was—had just got all her -boxes open.</p> - -<p>"Then I shall come and help you," said her visitor, laying down her -umbrella, and speaking as if she were conferring a great favour. "You -go first, and I'll follow."</p> - -<p>She was quite as good as her word. There she sat, with her hands on -her knees, her topee pushed well back (so as not to interfere with her -vision), in closest proximity to Helen's largest trunk, and saw every -article separately taken out and unfolded. Nothing escaped her; all she -saw, she priced; and all she fancied she tried on (or tried to try on), -and meanwhile she kept up a running fire of comments somewhat in this -style:—</p> - -<p>"So <em>that's</em> your black silk; and trimmed with lace, I declare! most -unsuitable for a girl like you—quite ridiculous! I shall speak to your -father, and if he likes, I don't mind taking it off his hands. I dare -say there is <em>some</em> letting out, and I'm rather in want of a dress for -my receptions."</p> - -<p>"Yes," gasped Helen, who was kneeling on the floor, "but I do not wish -to part with my black silk."</p> - -<p>"What use is it? <em>You</em> can't wear it," irritably. "Every one would -laugh at you if you came up to one of the 'at homes' in a gown like -that, and saw <em>me</em> in a simple muslin. It's not suitable to your -position—do you understand that?"</p> - -<p>"I did not mean to wear it at tennis," stammered Helen—who was a -little cowed by Mrs. Creery's eye; "but Miss Twigg said that it would -be useful."</p> - -<p>"Not a bit of it! What does she know about what would be useful?" -retorted the lady rudely.</p> - -<p>Miss Denis made no reply, but was firmly resolved that nothing short -of physical force should part her and her very best dress. Mrs. -Creery said no more either, but determined to have a word with the -Colonel by-and-by, and also to give him <em>her</em> opinion of the absurd -extravagance of his daughter's outfit!</p> - -<p>As she sat drawn up beside Helen's trunks whilst she unpacked, her -perpetual queries, "What is this? What did you give for that?" were, - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 52]</span> - -to say the least of it, trying. However, her victim was but recently -emancipated from school, had a wholesome awe of her elders, and a -remarkably sweet temper, so the whole inspection passed off quite -smoothly, and entirely to Mrs. Creery's satisfaction.</p> - -<p>"I saw you talking to Lizzie Caggett last evening," she remarked, as -she arranged her topee at the mirror, and dodged her profile in a -hand-glass. "What was she saying to you?"</p> - -<p>"She was asking me what I thought of the place?"</p> - -<p>"Well, don't tell her much—that's <em>my</em> advice to you! She is certain -to come here borrowing your patterns, but don't lend her <em>one</em>! I shall -be really angry with you if you do." (This came well from a lady who -was carrying off the promise of half-a-dozen.) And little did Helen -know the large reading a Dirzee gives to the term "taking a pattern." -It means that he rips up seams, punches holes in the material with his -gigantic scissors, and turns a new garment inside out and upside down, -with as little ceremony as if it were an old thing that was going to -the rag-bag. At present, ignorance was bliss. Mrs. Creery's convict -Dirzee was coming down that very afternoon to carry away Helen's two -prettiest and freshest costumes!</p> - -<p>"Now," continued the elder lady, "mind with I say about Lizzie Caggett; -she has dozens of dresses, and is head over ears in debt in Calcutta, -not to speak of the bazaar here—I know myself that she owes Abdul -Hamed two hundred rupees,—and do not encourage her in her wicked -extravagance."</p> - -<p>Then walking to the window, she cried out rapturously, "What a view! -Why, I had no idea of this; you can see every <em>bit</em> of the road—and -there's the General going up home, and Mr. Latimer with him! I suppose -he has asked him to breakfast—that's the second time this week! And -here comes Dr. Malone, <em>running</em>; he has something to tell him! Oh, I -must go! Where's my umbrella? Don't forget the dresses," and without -further adieux, Mrs. Creery was flying down the steps, brandishing her -arms, and calling out in a shrill falsetto,—</p> - -<p>"Stop, stop, Dr. Malone. I'm coming. Wait for <em>me</em>!"</p> - -<hr class="r15" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 53]</span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER VII.<br /> -<span class="small">MR. QUENTIN'S PIANO.</span></h2> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container32"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="blockquot"> -<div class="verse">"I have assailed her with music, but she vouchsafes no notice."</div> - </div> - </div> - </div> -</div> -<div class="sig-left60"><cite>Cymbeline.</cite></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mail-day</span> had come round once more, and Helen could hardly believe that -she had been already six weeks on Ross, it seemed more like six days. -She had made the acquaintance of almost everybody, had visited the -mainland, and Chatham and Viper; had ridden on a settlement elephant, -had been to two picnics, and dozens of tennis parties, and was -beginning to realize that she really was the mistress of that pretty -bungalow under the palm-trees on the hill-side.</p> - -<p>She was now great friends with Mrs. Home, and solemnly engaged to -Billy; she saw Miss Caggett daily, and Mrs. Creery almost hourly, and -other people called with complimentary frequency; notably Mr. Quentin, -who found many excuses for tarrying in Miss Denis's drawing-room, -and, remarkable to relate, Miss Caggett invariably contrived to drop -in on the same occasions. She was usually in the highest spirits, and -laughed, and smiled, and chatted as agreeably as if she had not come -on purpose to mount guard over a recreant admirer, and by her presence -endeavour to modify his attentions to her rival! Mr. Quentin found -her company a bore; how could he settle down to read poetry, or to -talk vague sentimental follies, whilst Miss Lizzie's sharp, shadeless -eyes were following every look and movement? Moreover, she seasoned -her conversation with disagreeable remarks, uncomfortable questions, -and unpleasant insinuations.—Miss Denis was musical, but at present -she had no piano; her father had promised her a new one from Calcutta -after Christmas, but in the meantime she must wait. Mr. Quentin was -surprised to find that he did not make as rapid strides in Helen's good -graces as he usually did under similar circumstances, but he accounted -for this amazing fact quite readily in his own mind, and was not one -whit daunted. In the first place, she had but little sentiment in her -composition; she was a sort of a girl who, if you invited her "to come - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 54]</span> - -out and look at the moon" in your company, would be certain to burst -out laughing in your face—and yet it seemed to him that her own face -would make an admirable subject for a very charming romance—she was so -absurdly matter-of-fact, so ready in turning off tender speeches, and -so provokingly inclined to ridicule his most warranted compliments. Of -<em>course</em> she liked him—the reverse never once dawned upon his arrogant -brain—but why was she so hard to get on with? Doubtless, Lizzie -Caggett's haunting presence handicapped him heavily; but Rome was not -built in a day, and he had a grand idea—nothing less than sending -Miss Denis over his piano as a loan—with a view to vocal duets. His -attentions to the young lady had been very "marked" in Mrs. Creery's -opinion; he was her shadow at all the "at homes," no other man had a -chance of speaking to her; but <em>this</em>"attention," which Mrs. Creery -beheld coming up the pier, and borne by twenty staggering coolies, -threw all his previous advances entirely into the shade.</p> - -<p>The good lady hurried on ahead, and burst into Helen's drawing-room, -breathless (the umbrella-rapping stage was a ceremony of the past), -saying,—</p> - -<p>"What do you think? There is a piano coming up the pier in charge of -Mr. Quentin's butler—twenty coolies carrying it, at eight annas each! -Mr. Quentin is sending it over to you—and, of course, it's <em>all</em> -settled? and," aggrievedly, "I really think you might have told <em>me</em>," -and here she was obliged to pause for breath.</p> - -<p>Helen stared at Mrs. Creery; never had she seen her so excited, was she -going out of her mind, and about a piano?</p> - -<p>"A piano, Mrs. Creery?—what piano?"</p> - -<p>"A large square."</p> - -<p>"And you say that Mr. Quentin is sending it; but it is certainly not -coming <em>here</em>."</p> - -<p>"But it <em>is</em>. I saw a note addressed to you in the butler's hand."</p> - -<p>"Well, it shall go back at once; it is some mistake. I don't know what -papa would say!"</p> - -<p>"Your father!" scornfully, "as if <em>he</em> would meddle, and as if your - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 55]</span> - -wishes are not his law; besides, he knows it would be an excellent -match!"</p> - -<p>"Mrs. Creery," interrupted Helen, becoming scarlet, "please don't say -such things; it's no question of—of—what you hint, but of this piano. -What does it mean?"</p> - -<p>"It's the thin end of the wedge, <em>that's</em> what it means."</p> - -<p>"It shall go back!"</p> - -<p>"Well, here it comes now at any rate," said the elder lady -triumphantly, as the chanting, thin-legged bearers came staggering -along under the heavy piece of furniture, with its wadded red cover; -and a big, bearded butler presented a note with a profound salaam.</p> - -<p>"Wait!" cried Helen, making an imperative gesture, tearing the envelope -open. "Don't bring it up yet."</p> - -<p>"What's all this?" inquired her father, appearing upon the scene at -this juncture.</p> - -<p>"A piano for your daughter from Mr. Quentin," volunteered Mrs. Creery -with infinite gusto.</p> - -<p>"Here, papa," handing him the note, "what am I to say?"</p> - -<p>"You will have to keep it for the present, I suppose," he answered -rather reluctantly, as he glanced over the missive; "you will have one -of your own soon."</p> - -<p>Mr. Quentin's note ran as follows:—<br /><br /></p> - -<div class="blockquote"> -"<span class="smcap">Dear Miss Denis</span>,—Please do not be alarmed at the size of the -accompanying package, nor angry with me for my temerity in sending -it; the piano is going to pieces over here, with no one to play on -or look after it, and the hot winds on Aberdeen are ruination to an -instrument. You will be conferring a great favour on me, if you will -give it room, and honour me by making use of it, until the arrival of -your own. I will crave permission to bring over <em>a few</em> songs, and we -might have a little practice occasionally. If possible, I shall come -across this afternoon. -</div> - -<p class="sig15">"Yours very sincerely,</p> -<p class="sig10">"JAMES QUENTIN."</p> - -<p>Of course, when the matter was put in the light of a favour to be -conferred, there was nothing for it but to allow the instrument to be - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 56]</span> - -brought in, and lodged in the drawing-room.</p> - -<p>Helen received the open note somewhat mechanically from her father, -and will it be believed, that Mrs. Creery actually held out her hand -for the missive—just as if it were quite a matter of course, that she -should peruse it also?</p> - -<p>Peruse it she did, and so slowly, that one would imagine that she was -committing it to memory; then she folded it up and returned it to -Helen, saying rather tartly, "So you <em>are</em> going to keep it, after all?"</p> - -<p>"Yes! I suppose so."</p> - -<p>"It's only an excuse, of course. You will have him here singing, day -and night, mark my words! However, I must allow that he has a sweet -tenor, and I shall often drop in for an hour," with which dire threat, -Mrs. Creery took her departure, and hastened away to spread the last -piece of news, viz., "that it was all <em>quite</em> settled between Helen -Denis and Mr. Quentin; he had sent her over his piano, and written such -a sweet note!"</p> - -<p>To Miss Caggett this intelligence was a painful shock; she never -believed half of what Mrs. Creery said, but the arrival of the piano -had been witnessed. What wrath and anguish filled her mind, as she -thought of swains she had snubbed, and chances she had thrown away, for -that agreeable shadow, that fickle, faithless, heartless, handsome Jim -Quentin! But Lizzie was not easily suppressed; in some respects she was -as dauntless as the Bruce!</p> - -<p>She put on her best hat, and went up and listened to some solos and -duets that very same afternoon; and Mr. Quentin, whose patience was -almost threadbare, remarked to her very significantly,—</p> - -<p>"I like duets, Miss Caggett, as well as any one, but I don't much care -for trios; they are never so harmonious. I'm sure you agree with me."</p> - -<p>Lizzie turned pale. She understood, though Helen did not—indeed, <em>she</em> -was exceedingly glad of Miss Caggett's society on these occasions; it -took the too personal edge off her visitor's remarks, and acted as a -wet blanket to his compliments. She (Helen) was not quite sure whether -he was in jest or earnest at times, but she sincerely <em>hoped</em> that it - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 57]</span> - -was the former. Strange as it may appear, she was utterly indifferent -to the almost invincible Jim Quentin. Why, she could not have told. She -knew that he was handsome, agreeable, and showed a flattering penchant -for her society. More than this, he had informed her, hundreds of times -(indirectly), that he admired her beyond words. And yet, and yet——</p> - -<p>Miss Caggett was firmly resolved to punish her recreant lover, and to -humble him in the eyes of his new Dulcinea; so she smiled, and showed -all her teeth, and put her head on one side, and tried to look playful, -and said,—</p> - -<p>"Mr. Quentin, you are a <em>naughty</em> man! What will Mr. Baines say when he -hears you have sent his new Collard and Collard travelling about the -settlement?"</p> - -<p>Mr. Baines was the gentleman for whom Mr. Quentin was acting.</p> - -<p>"<em>He</em> say?" colouring. "What is it to him?"</p> - -<p>"Only his property," laughing rather boisterously.</p> - -<p>Helen felt extremely uncomfortable. There was an undercurrent of -hostility in Miss Caggett's laugh, that now struck her for the first -time.</p> - -<p>Mr. Quentin was not easily cowed, and never had any hesitation about -telling what Mark Twain calls a "stretcher," and answered quite -promptly,—</p> - -<p>"I bought it from Baines; he was hard up. So you are not as wise as you -imagined, Miss Caggett."</p> - -<p>Miss Caggett did not believe a word of this. Men who come to "act" -for six months, and have the use of a furnished house as a matter of -course, are not likely to purchase the piano—especially when they -can't <em>play</em>. But what was the use of speaking out her mind? For once -she was prudent, and held her peace; however, she cast a glance at Mr. -Quentin that said volumes, and presently she got up and went away; and, -when she had departed, Mr. Quentin exclaimed,—</p> - -<p>"How I wish that odious young woman—or middle-aged woman—would -not favour us with so much of her society; her presence has a most -irritating effect on my nerves."</p> - -<p>"I thought you and she were great friends," said Helen calmly. "I am -sure she told me that, at one time, you were with them every day, and - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 58]</span> - -dined, and boated, and sang duets with her."</p> - -<p>"I suppose I was three times in their house—I don't know what she -will say next! However," anxious to turn to another subject, "do not -let us waste our time, or rather <em>my</em> precious time over here, on such -an insignificant subject. Will you try over the accompaniment of the -Wanderer?"</p> - -<p>Mr. Quentin found himself so much out of practice that he went across -to Ross for an hour's vocal exercise about four times a week. Latterly -Mr. Lisle had listened with a gleam of mockery in his eye, as his -companion made excuses for these frequent visits, and one day Mr. -Quentin up and spake boldly,—</p> - -<p>"You are right to laugh at my talk about books and music and new songs, -when I say that they are the errands that take me over so often—of -course, it's the girl herself."</p> - -<p>"Oh, of course," sarcastically.</p> - -<p>"I tell you what it is, Lisle—I'm really serious this time; and the -queer part of it is, that it's her cool airs and sharp little speeches -that have carried the citadel."</p> - -<p>"What citadel?" raising his eyes, and searching the other's face.</p> - -<p>"My heart, to be sure!"</p> - -<p>"Pooh! your heart! Why that has been taken as often as there are days -in the year."</p> - -<p>"Merely a temporary occupation, my dear sir, but this time it's a -complete surrender. 'Pon my word, if she had any money, I'd marry her -to-morrow!"</p> - -<p>In answer to this remark, Mr. Lisle blew a cloud of smoke into the air, -and calmly ejaculated the word,—</p> - -<p>"Bosh!"</p> - -<p>"I never knew such a fellow as you are," cried Apollo indignantly. "You -have no appreciation of sentiment; you are as tough and matter-of-fact -as an old boot! All you care for are rough field sports, such as a long -day's shooting, hunting, or fishing, and then to come home to your -dinner, and sleep like a dog."</p> - -<p>"I only wish I <em>could</em> sleep like a dog," rejoined the other with a -laugh. "What with the gun and bugles, and those confounded peacocks, - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 59]</span> - -there is no such thing as getting a wink of sleep after four o'clock."</p> - -<p>"Now," continued Mr. Quentin querulously, "I hate your style of life. -You don't care what clothes you wear, you tramp the bush and over hill -and dale with a gun on your shoulder, on the off chance of a wild pig, -or a paltry brace of snipe! Or you grill by the hour in a boat, fishing -for sharks and sword-fish. Now give me instead——"</p> - -<p>"Yes, I know exactly what I'm to give you instead; the refining charms -of ladies' society, vocal duets and afternoon tea. Far, far pleasanter, -is it not, to sit in a cool, shady verandah, whispering soft nothings -to a pretty girl—I believe you said she <em>was</em> pretty—than to be -out in a boat blistering in the sun, or tramping the woods, gun on -shoulder, with a good average chance of being winged oneself by an -Andamanese arrow? But let me tell you, James Quentin, that your -amusement is in reality the most dangerous of the two, and, if Dr. -Parks is to be believed, you have already burnt your fingers badly."</p> - -<p>"Hang Dr. Parks! I don't want to hear about him, or any one else, -except Helen Denis."</p> - -<p>"Helen Denis! And does she not wish to hear about any one but James -Quentin?"</p> - -<p>Mr. Quentin smiled a seraphic smile that inferred much; his companion -was not surprised. Quentin was exactly the sort of fellow to please -a young lady's fancy; naturally he would seem to her the very beau -ideal of a hero, with his low voice, heavenly blue eyes, and handsome -face; but then she was not aware that he did not stand the test of -close intimacy. <em>She</em> had never heard him cursing his chokra or his -creditors—she never saw him in ragged moral deshabille!</p> - -<p>"Of course she does not know that this is by no means your first tender -effort at gallantry?—However, that is of no moment, Miss Caggett will -undeceive her," tranquilly remarked his companion.</p> - -<p>"What a beastly ironical fellow you are, Lisle! First you rake up old -Parks, and then Lizzie Caggett. I wish she were in a sack at the bottom -of Ross harbour!" blustered Mr. Quentin.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 60]</span></p> - -<p>"Because she represents a kind of conscience in her own person? Take -care that Miss Denis does not do the same some day."</p> - -<p>"No fear," stoutly. "She is now a mere child in many ways, full of -delight with everything about her, and with no more idea of flirting -than——" pausing.</p> - -<p>"I have," suggested his listener, innocently.</p> - -<p>"I would be sorry to name her in the same breath with you; and that -reminds me, that more than once she has asked me questions about Mr. -Lisle."</p> - -<p>"Oh, of course, they all do <em>that</em>!"</p> - -<p>"She has heard of you."</p> - -<p>"From my good, kind friend, Mrs. Creery, I'll bet a fiver, and I'll bet -another that she has painted me as black as an Andamanese,—and the -devil himself would not be blacker."</p> - -<p>"Well, come over with me to-morrow, and let Miss D. see that you are -not as bad as you are painted."</p> - -<p>"What would be the use? If she is all you <em>say</em>, I might fall in love -with her also! and that would be a very uncomfortable state of affairs."</p> - -<p>Mr. Quentin looked at him for a second with a cool stare, and then -burst out laughing.</p> - -<p>"Well, upon my word! you are the queerest fellow I ever met, and that's -saying a good deal; you can never be in earnest for five minutes. Now -look here, I want to talk to you seriously about my money affairs.—You -see my governor is an old man, and when he is laid in the family vault, -I'll have a decent little competence, but until <em>then</em> I cannot keep -myself, much less a wife. I'm certain he won't give me a halfpenny more -allowance than I have already. I've an uncontrollable knack of spending -coin, and running into debt; but with the family acres, I think I might -manage to rub along pretty well."</p> - -<p>"So you might," agreed his listener.</p> - -<p>"But then the governor may live till he is a hundred."</p> - -<p>"So he may," again admitted the other gentleman.</p> - -<p>"For goodness' sake, Lisle, don't sit there with your eyes half shut, -driving me mad with your 'so you might' and 'so he may.' Make a -suggestion."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 61]</span></p> - -<p>"My dear sir, I cannot think of any to offer. If you were an Earth -Indian, you would be all right; you know they tie up their aged as bait -for wild beasts. Being a mere Englishman——"</p> - -<p>Mr. Lisle never finished what he was about to say; for his companion -sprang to his feet, towered above him, glared at him for a second, -opened his mouth and endeavoured to speak,—but failed; and then flung -out of the apartment in a terrible passion.</p> - -<hr class="r15" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER VIII.<br /><br /> -<span class="small">"I WAS HIS DEAREST LIZZIE!"</span></h2> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container40"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="blockquot"> -<div class="verse first-line">"Alas! for pleasure on the sea,</div> -<div class="verse">And sorrow on the shore."</div> - </div> - </div> - </div> -</div> -<div class="sig-left60"><cite>Hood.</cite></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Home's</span> entertainments to her friends generally took the form of a -picnic or gipsy tea, partly, we suspect, because these outings were in -great favour with Tom and Billy, and partly because she had a knack of -making these "camp affairs," as Mrs. Creery contemptuously dubbed them, -go off to every one's satisfaction. She had now issued invitations -for a tea at North Bay, where her guests were to ramble about, and -stroll on the beach, or botanize in the jungle; and two large boats -left the pier carrying the company, which comprised the host, hostess, -and family, Col. and Miss Denis, Miss Caggett, Mr. Latimer, Dr. Parks, -Dr. Malone, the Grahams from Chatham, and the Greens from Viper. Mr. -Quentin did not patronize these rustic <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">réunions</i>, and he was rather -annoyed to find that the Denises were bent on going, and leant over -the pier as they were rowed away, looking unutterable reproaches at -Helen—looks not lost on Miss Caggett, who was sitting beside her. It -was an oppressive afternoon; even at four o'clock the sky was molten -and the sea like oil, and Mr. Quentin shouted after the pleasure -party,—</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 62]</span></p> - -<p>"I would not be a bit surprised if you people were in for a storm -coming back—better not stay late."</p> - -<p>"Storm! what nonsense! Why, the water is like glass!" exclaimed Mrs. -Home. "He merely says that because he is not coming himself—though I -asked him, and told him he might bring Mr. Lisle, for I really do not -see why he should be debarred from everything."</p> - -<p>"If he is debarred, it's his own fault," rejoined Lizzie Caggett, -accepting the challenge in the absence of Mrs. Creery in the other -boat. "If he would only be open about himself, no one would mind his -poverty."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Home looked sweetly incredulous, and Miss Caggett continued,—</p> - -<p>"At any rate the chances are that he would not come if he was asked. I -don't suppose he has any decent clothes, and he is more in his element -in the bush, or out in that white boat of Mr. Quentin's, sailing among -the islands; he half lives on the water, but," with a peculiar laugh, -"there is no fear of his being drowned!"</p> - -<p>Miss Lizzie was merciless to this mysterious pauper, chiefly because -she had an idea that he had talked his host out of certain matrimonial -designs that were very near to her heart. Jim Quentin's visits had -been less frequent, ever since he had given lodging to this odious -adventurer!</p> - -<p>Now Mrs. Home considered Mr. Lisle inoffensive and gentlemanly-looking, -and quite entitled to keep his affairs to himself if he chose, and -she took up the cudgels at once, and the argument was waxing hot, -when, luckily, some one commenced to sing, and politeness enforced -silence. It was a long row to North Bay, fully eight miles, and it was -past five o'clock when the party landed, and began to walk about and -stretch their rather cramped legs, and to stroll along the beach with -a careless eye to shells.—But this was not a <i xml:lang="la" lang="la">bonâ fide</i> shelling -trip.—Presently, in answer to a whistle, with various degrees of -alacrity they flocked round Mrs. Home's well-spread table-cloth, which -was laid out on the moss under a big Pedouk tree, and in a position, -that commanded a fine view of the open sea. Here every one ate and -drank, and were merry; and afterwards they sang songs and gave riddles -and exchanged stories, well-known or otherwise, and then by degrees - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 63]</span> - -they scattered once more, and went up into the woods close by, in -couples or in small parties, and commenced (the ladies especially) to -tear down orchids that would be priceless in grey-skyed England; to -fill their hands and their baskets with enormous bunches of Eucharis -lilies that carpeted the jungle. Helen was somewhat surprised to find -herself alone with Lizzie Caggett, but this was a mere passing thought, -her whole attention was given to the flowers; she felt quite bewildered -among such an <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">embarras de richesse</i>, and she paused every now and then -to exclaim, and to gather handfuls. She was also in ecstasies at the -love-birds, honey-suckers, blue-jays and golden orioles that flew "with -a shocking tameness" across their path.</p> - -<p>Miss Caggett was accustomed to these sights; her enthusiasm—if she -had any—she kept bottled up for the benefit of a male companion, and -did not trouble herself to respond to Helen's raptures; she had dogged -her, and purposely kept off Dr. Malone, and singled her out as her own -special associate, in order that she, as she said to herself, "might -have it out with her here in the jungle," where she could be as shrill -as she pleased,—yea, as one of the island peacocks! where she could -give reins to her wrath, and no one but her unsuspicious rival would be -any the wiser!—Now on Ross the very walls had ears.</p> - -<p>The two girls wandered along, one empty-handed, and the other laden -with spoils, till they came to an opening in the forest, where there -was a very beautiful shallow pool, apparently a spring. It was an -unusual sight, and Lizzie halted, and looked down into it, and beheld -the reflection of her own figure, and of her, at present, very cross, -discontented little face as seen in a mirror set in a lovely frame of -ferns, and mossy stones, and graceful grasses.</p> - -<p>As she pondered over her own appearance, and felt an agonizing thrill, -at the patent fact that she was now beginning to look <em>old</em>! a bright -young face came into view over her shoulder—a bright young face that -she hated from the bottom of her heart! No wonder she was a prey to -envy, as she gazed at Helen's reflection; never had she looked better, -than in that soft white gown, with a wreath of Eucharis lilies - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 64]</span> - -twined round her sailor hat. Lizzie stared, and noted every item of -that pretty vision, and felt a conviction of her own powerlessness -to crush the horrible truth, that one of those two faces was lovely, -and smiling, and young, and that the other was pinched, ill-tempered, -and <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">passée</i>—and that other her own! Her day was on the wane, the -summer of her life—oh, that it would come again! she would sell her -soul to recall it!—was gone. And in Helen Denis's case, she had all -her golden youth before her. These bitter thoughts were too much for -her self-control, her face worked convulsively, the corners of her -mouth went down, and all of a sudden she burst into tears! Helen was -dismayed; she led her gently to a fallen log of ebony, and implored of -her to tell her if she was ill, or what was the matter?</p> - -<p>The tears were but a summer shower, and quickly spent, and Miss Caggett -came to herself, dried her eyes, and said that it was merely a slight -nervous seizure, the result of a racking headache, and meant nothing. -"But," she added, "I'm tired, and we may as well rest here awhile, -there is no hurry."</p> - -<p>"Very well," agreed Helen, "I want to settle these flowers, they are in -a most dreadful state," proceeding to arrange her much-crowded basket.</p> - -<p>"Then, whilst you arrange your flowers, dear, I will tell you a story," -said Lizzie, now completely composed.</p> - -<p>"Oh, do! how nice of you! I like stories, and this"—looking round—"is -the very place for one. A ghost story?"</p> - -<p>"But mine is going to be a love-tale," said Miss Caggett briefly.</p> - -<p>"I don't care for them so much," rejoined Helen, sorting out orchids as -she spoke. "However, anything <em>you</em> like."</p> - -<p>"Once upon a time there was a girl, and she lived in the East Indies -with her mother; her name was Lizzie Caggett," she commenced. Helen, -who was kneeling at the log, using it as a table for her flowers, -looked up as if she did not believe her ears. "Her name, as I tell you, -was Lizzie Caggett. She was not a great beauty like <em>some</em> people, - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 65]</span> - -but she was not bad-looking. A young man came to Port Blair, paid her -marked attention, fell in love with her, and she with him; he gave her -songs and presents, he wrote her heaps of letters, he told her that he -could not <em>live</em> without her. His name was James Quentin!" She paused, -and Helen got up slowly from her knees and stood in front of her—her -heart was beating rather fast, and her colour was considerably brighter -than usual. "A girl arrived at Port Blair named Helen Denis, and he, -man-like, paid her attention at first because she was <em>new</em>,—he half -lives at her house, he is always at her side, and" (viciously) "he has -made her the talk of the whole place. He," also rising and suddenly -dropping the narrative form for plainer speaking, "is a hypocrite, he -told you a <em>lie</em> about that piano!—it belongs to Mr. Baines—he has -pretended to you that he scarcely knew <em>me</em>. Scarcely ever was out -of our house, is nearer the truth! One thing he can't deny, and that -is his own hand-writing. Look here," dragging out a thick packet of -letters tied with blue ribbon, "you can read them if you like. You -won't!" in answer to a scornful gesture. "Then there," tossing them -violently on the ground, where they fell with a heavy thud, and the -ribbon coming undone, lay scattered about like a pack of cards.</p> - -<p>Miss Caggett after this outbreak paused, and folded her arms akimbo, -but her eyes were gleaming, and her lips working convulsively.</p> - -<p>Helen was thunderstruck, never had it dawned upon her till now, that -she had come and seen, and conquered, this furious lady's lover; the -sudden announcement gave her a shock and for some seconds she was -speechless.</p> - -<p>"There," proceeded Miss Caggett, pointing to a letter at her feet, -"three months ago I was his dearest Lizzie, and now you are his dearest -Helen," and she laughed like a hyena.</p> - -<p>"You are altogether mistaken, and quite wrong," cried her companion, -speaking at last; "I am nothing to him but an ordinary acquaintance, -and I don't think you should repeat these terrible things about him to -me! You can't care very <em>much</em> for him, or you would not say that he - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 66]</span> - -is a hypocrite and does not speak the truth. As to his making me the -talk of the place, I am quite distressed to hear that Port Blair is so -hard up for a topic." Helen was very angry, and her face was an open -book, in which every emotion that swayed her was eloquently expressed. -Mr. Quentin was utterly indifferent to her, and this fact gave her -a considerable advantage over Miss Caggett. Besides being angry she -was disgusted, and looked down upon her opponent with a glance of -unmistakable scorn.</p> - -<p>"Of course you will <em>tell</em> him all I have said," exclaimed Lizzie, with -a hysterical smile.</p> - -<p>"Oh, of course," ironically.</p> - -<p>Miss Caggett was filled with a horrible fear that she had overshot her -mark (which had been merely to blacken Mr. Quentin to Helen, to arouse -her ire, and take advantage of the ensuing quarrel and coolness, and -once more ingratiate herself with her late adorer). But who would have -expected Miss Denis to be supremely ironical and scornful, and to have -taken the news in this very strange way, for Lizzie believed that no -girl living could be indifferent to James Quentin? Instead of tearing -her hair and weeping and denouncing him, she was quite unmoved. She had -even spurned his letters! hateful, cold-blooded thing!</p> - -<p>"Shall you tell him all I have said about him?" she reiterated -defiantly.</p> - -<p>"Your suggestion is of course prompted by what you would do <em>yourself</em> -under similar circumstances," returned her companion in a cutting tone.</p> - -<p>"Do you pretend that you don't <em>like</em> him?" demanded Miss Caggett; -"that you never told me you thought him handsome? Do you pretend that -you are not in love with him and have lured him away from <em>me</em>?"</p> - -<p>"<em>I</em> pretend nothing; I do not even pretend to be his friend before -his face, and then abuse him unmercifully behind his back! And now," -pointing with the tip of her shoe, "there are your letters. I advise -you not to leave them here for the amusement of some picnic party. And -I <em>request</em> that you will never speak to me in such a way again, nor -mention the name of your friend Mr. Quentin."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 67]</span></p> - -<p>So saying, Helen picked up her basket, turned her back on Lizzie, and -walked off into the jungle in a rather stately fashion, never once -looking back at the little figure on the log. If she had done so, she -would have seen that little figure shaking a tiny menacing fist in her -direction; but ignorance was bliss, and she rambled on mechanically, -her mind not a little disturbed by the recent "scene." Lizzie Caggett -was <em>not</em> a nice girl—not a lady—and as to Mr. Quentin, she had -never quite trusted his dreamy blue eyes. Now she came to ponder -over the subject, his stories were often a bad fit—one tale did not -exactly match another—he forgot what he had said previously, and -although he had angrily disowned Miss Caggett, yet she had noticed one -mezzo soprano song among his music, on which was scribbled in pencil, -"Lizzie, with J.'s love." Deeply occupied in unravelling various new -ideas, the young lady strayed further and further into the wood, -occasionally stopping to cull some too tempting flower or fern—and -pondering as she plucked. She was extremely reluctant to go back to the -company and to face Miss Caggett after their late conversation, but -a sudden cessation of birds' notes, a duskiness, and a little chill -wind, warned her that it was really time to retrace her steps. She -had come further than she imagined, and it was fully half an hour ere -she had extricated herself from among the trees and once more gained -the open space looking down upon the shore. But what was this? To -her astonishment the beach was deserted. There was no sign of living -creature to be seen (save the dying embers of the gipsy fire), and, did -her eyes deceive her, or did she really behold two heavily laden boats -steadily rowing back to Ross? Indeed, one was already a mere speck on -the water, and she had been left behind! At first she could not realize -her position; she, the chief guest—in whose honour the party had been -given—she forgotten and abandoned to pass the night on that terrible, -desolate mainland alone! She ran to a rock jutting out far into the -water and waved her parasol, and screamed, and called, but the boats -were far beyond earshot, and the awnings were up.</p> - -<p>She stood looking after them like a modern Dido, with strange, fixed, - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 68]</span> - -despairing eyes, then turned and gazed behind her at the thick, black, -and now forbidding-looking forest, that loomed all round her, and -encompassed the shore. She sat down on the rock, locked her arms round -her knees, and watched the two heartless boats till they were quite -out of sight. This operation lasted for some time, and when there was -nothing further to be seen in the direction of Ross, she turned her -face towards the open sea, and beheld, to her horror, a large canoe -coming rapidly in her direction! It was still at some distance, but she -knew that the build of the boat was not European, nor did Europeans go -out boating in <em>tall hats</em>. She did not wait for a closer inspection; -she fled—fled for dear life—right up into the much-dreaded forest, -and dashed among the underwood like a mad creature; in a certain -thick covert she threw herself down, and there she lay panting like a -hunted hare. From her hiding-place, she could see the savages; they -paddled close into the shore, attracted by the smoke of the fire that -had boiled Mrs. Home's mild domestic kettle! They came in a big red -war canoe, and were about fifty in number; one or two remained in the -canoe, the rest sprang over the side, and waded to land—followed by a -whole legion of dogs. They swarmed round the fire, and found but little -to repay their visit, beyond a box of matches, which was evidently a -great prize. There were several monster fish caught by Mrs. Creery's -boatmen,—and left behind as worthless—these they tore to pieces, and -devoured raw. A tin of Swiss milk and half a loaf of bread were also -discovered and shared. Whilst they sat round the embers in a circle, -and greedily discussed these rarities and the fish, Helen, with every -nerve in her body throbbing, and her heart nearly bounding out of -her bosom, was presented by her own vivid memory with that scene in -Robinson Crusoe, where he sees the savages sitting round a fire, and -feasting on their human victims! Supposing they were to discover her, -and kill her, and eat her? At this moment she nearly shrieked aloud, -for a large red dog, a kind of pariah (who, unknown to her, had been -sniffing among the underwood), now suddenly thrust up his head close -to hers, and gazed at her in amazement for some seconds; luckily for - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 69]</span> - -Helen, instead of breaking at once into a loud "bay," and triumphantly -announcing his "find," he was evidently one of the barrack curs whom -the General had colonized; he had seen a European before,—and probably -understood English! At first, when she whispered in a faltering voice, -"Oh, Toby, Toby, like a dear, good dog, go away, and don't betray me," -he took no notice, but merely stood staring with his round yellow eyes. -However, when emboldened by desperation, she said, "Hoosh! be off!" and -made a movement as though to pick up a stone—he fled!</p> - -<p>But what if a less educated animal were to discover her? If he did, -she was lost. She lay in her hiding-place scarcely daring to breathe, -the very sound of her own heart seemed appalling; indeed, it stood -quite still for some seconds, when—the fish being despatched—the -aborigines stood up and sauntered back to their canoe, and several -of them pointing at the jungle, seemingly suggested a ramble in that -direction! But these enterprising spirits had no weight, and Helen, -although fainting with terror, noticed that a fat old man, in a huge -cocked hat (evidently a person of much authority), waved his hands with -decision towards the horizon; and making gestures at the big bank of -clouds that were gathering there, peremptorily collected all his party, -who immediately swarmed out into the canoe, followed by their pack of -dogs, and paddled away as swiftly and as suddenly as they had come—and -Helen breathed a deep sigh of relief, when she was once more left upon -the mainland, entirely alone!</p> - -<hr class="r15" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER IX.<br /><br /> -<span class="small">A DAMSEL IN DISTRESS.</span></h2> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container37"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="blockquot"> -<div class="verse">"The storm is up, and all is on the hazard."</div> - </div> - </div> - </div> -</div> -<div class="sig-left60"><cite>Julius Caesar.</cite></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Lisle</span> had been out boating far beyond North Bay; but a sombre -sultry afternoon, and the ominous silence that precedes a tropical - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 70]</span> - -storm, had warned him to steer homewards. He had heard of the awful -tornadoes that occasionally churned these seas into white mountains, -that dashed wrecks around the islands; that the storm god in torrid -regions was a terrible sight when aroused, and that a sunny, sleepy -afternoon had been known to develop into a howling hurricane in less -than an hour. Moreover, that tragic tales of boats blown out to sea, or -capsized with all hands, were but too well known at Port Blair.</p> - -<p>The sky was now so inky black that it could scarcely look blacker, low -muttering thunder was heard from behind the clouds, and an occasional -red flash shot along the horizon. The breeze was rising steadily, and -a quick cool ripple was on the water. On the whole, Mr. Lisle said -to himself that there was every prospect of a very dirty night, and -the sooner that he was under the lee of Ross the better. Passing a -kind of cove in North Bay, he happened to notice a long white object -in the now gathering dusk: it seemed to be near the shore, and was -probably a blighted tree. Luckily, he looked again, and observed that -it moved. Could it be a human figure, at that hour?—quite impossible! -But although moments were precious, he resolved to give the thing, -whatever it was, a chance; and to take a nearer view and to accomplish -this, he was obliged to steer in closer to the land, which he did—to -his boatmen's unconcealed uneasiness. Vainly did they scowl, and point -expressively to the storm that was coming up so rapidly; he assured -them that this delay would be but momentary; a few vigorous strokes, -and they were sufficiently near to make out that the seemingly blighted -tree was the figure of a European woman, in a white dress! In two or -three seconds they had touched the beach, and Mr. Lisle sprang out of -the boat, waded through the water, and another instant brought him -to the side of a trembling, distracted girl, whom he had never seen -before, but who nevertheless accorded him a half-frenzied, though -silent welcome.</p> - -<p>Helen, after she had seen the last of the war canoe, had once more -ventured down to the shore. The dark thick tropical jungle seemed to -stifle her, and, for all she knew, might be swarming with wild beasts! - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 71]</span> - -The solitude was something appalling, and the silence!—save for queer -outlandish sounds in the forest every now and then, which caused her -to tremble violently. Her position may not seem so very terrible to -some people,—who will say, "She knew she was sure to be fetched in the -morning;" but a night alone upon that savage coast, was enough to make -even a stout-hearted man feel nervous, much less a girl like Helen, and -by this time she was completely unhinged. As she sat staring into the -gloom, she suddenly made out a boat, positively a European boat, with -three people in it,—and for the first time her hopes rose. She waved -her arms frantically, and she ran up and down the beach like a demented -creature. She was seen, and they were coming. Oh, the relief of that -moment! For the first time during these dreadful hours, tears rolled -down her cheeks.</p> - -<p>The boat came in as close as it could, and a man jumped out of it, and -approached her rapidly. Stranger as she was, she rushed to him, seized -his arm, and tried vainly to speak, but her whole frame was shaken with -convulsive sobs.</p> - -<p>"What is it? What does it mean?" he asked, as she clung to him, like a -drowning person.</p> - -<p>"It's a—pleasure party," she stammered out. "I was gathering flowers, -and was left behind. Oh, take me with you! Take me home!"</p> - -<p>"Come on, then,"—an Englishman's usual formula; "I'll take you back to -Ross. But we must look sharp," speaking rather brusquely. What if this -tearful, frightened young lady were to go into hysterics, or to faint -in his arms? that would be a nice business!</p> - -<p>Without a single word, but with obedient alacrity, she followed him to -the edge of the sea,—and something told her that she was walking in -the wake of the notorious <em>Mr. Lisle</em>.</p> - -<p>"I'd better carry you through the surf," he said, turning at the -water's edge; and coolly putting his arm round her, he was just about -to lift her on the spot, but, with flaming cheeks, she thrust him -aside, saying, "Thanks, no; I'll manage it myself."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 72]</span></p> - -<p>"Oh, all right," he returned indifferently, "but I think you are -foolish! What's the good of two people getting wet, when <em>one</em> will -do?" now wading out to the boat through surf, which took the young -lady up to her knees. He got in first, helped her in afterwards, and, -making a sign to the impatient boatmen to raise the sail, he said to -his dripping companion, "There is going to be a bit of a blow" (a mild -way of putting it), "but we shall have it with us, we shall be home in -no time," he added, in a tone of assumed cheerfulness.</p> - -<p>In a few seconds they were gliding along over the water, before a nice -stiff breeze, and Helen found time to collect her senses, and to relate -her adventures—at first in rather a broken, husky voice, but latterly -with more composure.</p> - -<p>And lest the reader should all this time be angrily blaming Colonel -Denis and Mrs. Home, I here beg to state that each believed Helen to -be in the other's boat—a thought for which they were indebted to Miss -Caggett.</p> - -<p>The rising wind and threatening sky made prudent Mrs. Home collect -her party, and start; being under the impression that Helen would -return with her father. When the people belonging to number two boat -were mustered, and inquiries were made for Miss Denis, Miss Caggett -assured them that she had long since departed with Mrs. Home, and had -been quite animated in declaring that "there was no mistake about the -matter, as she and Miss Denis had been walking in the woods together." -She also displayed quite a feverish eagerness to be off!—for reasons -which we can easily understand. (Miss Lizzie had picked up her -letters and pocketed them, and sauntered down to the beach, and there -had joined the company, and come to the conclusion that a night's -solitary reflection among the tall Gurgeon and Pedouk trees would do -her rival a world of good! "How easy," she said to herself, "to say -afterwards, that I must have made a mistake—every one is liable to -make mistakes!") Thus reassured, the picnic party took their places in -the second boat, and no search or calling acquainted Helen of their -departure; and consequently, she was left behind, thanks to Miss Lizzie -Caggett.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 73]</span></p> - -<p>The small white gig which had picked off the young lady, now flew -before the wind, and Helen's new acquaintance sat with the tiller-ropes -in his hands, and his gaze bent apprehensively on the south.</p> - -<p>"I suppose I may as well introduce myself," he said presently. "My name -is Lisle. Perhaps you have heard of me?" he added expressively—at -least to his listener, his words seemed to have an ironical, -significant tone!</p> - -<p>Helen muttered a faint affirmative.</p> - -<p>"And you, I think, must be Miss Denis?"</p> - -<p>"Yes."</p> - -<p>"And were you really afraid of the savages?"</p> - -<p>"I never was so much frightened in all my life, I thought I should have -<em>died</em>."</p> - -<p>"I see a good deal of them knocking about the islands. They are not -such bad fellows, and I doubt their cannibalism."</p> - -<p>"I should be sorry to trust them," returned Helen, shuddering.</p> - -<p>"You are cold, I see, and wet, of course, but that was your own fault. -Here," suddenly removing it, "you must take my coat," throwing it over -her knees, where it remained all the time, in spite of her anxious -disclaiming. After this there was a long gap in the conversation.</p> - -<p>Mr. Lisle undoubtedly possessed what the French call, "a talent for -silence." "How grave he looked!" thought Helen. How fast they were -going! How frightfully down on one side! The wind was getting louder -and louder, till it reached a kind of hoarse scream: the dusk had -suddenly given place to Egyptian gloom, and Helen felt sure (as she -sat with her hands tightly locked in her lap, and her heart beating -very quickly) that they were having more than a mere "blow" as they -tore through the water! All at once, the first splash of a cold, salt -wave dashed over the boat, and drenched her so unexpectedly that she -could not refrain from a stifled exclamation; but this was the only -time that she lost her self-control. She sat motionless as an image, -and neither moved nor spake, not even when a shrieking gust carried -her hat away, and whirled it into the outer darkness; and the storm -loosened her long hair, and flung it to the wind to play with. How - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 74]</span> - -they flew up the water mountains, and were hurled down like a stone -into the corresponding valleys! If they were to be drowned, she hoped -that it might be soon; this present suspense was torture. All was so -black—an awful opaque blackness—the roar of the tempest the only -sound; it came in furious gusts, then died away, whilst wave after wave -swept over the boat; and now the low rumble of thunder burst suddenly -into one frightful peal, that seemed to shake the very sea itself: a -blinding flash lit up the gloom, for a moment it was as daylight. Helen -involuntarily turned her eyes towards her companion, and met his point -blank. In that second, their two souls seemed to recognize one another; -in his glance she read intrepidity, coolness and encouragement. She at -least was with a brave man, and might die in worse company! He, on his -side, noted the rigid figure of his passenger, her locked hands and -firmly-set lips; she was no longer the timid, shrinking creature he -had dragged on board the gig less than an hour previously; she was a -heroine, capable of looking death in the face, and Death's grim visage -was never closer to her than <em>now</em>. Another would have been shrieking -and clinging to him; but this girl was nerved to meet her fate alone, -and he honestly respected her fortitude. It was certainly just touch -and go, if they ever weathered Ross Point, but the boat was a stout -one, and the sails were new. The twinkling lights on the island now -came in view; how scornfully they seemed to mock these four people, who -were struggling for life and death in the surrounding howling darkness!</p> - -<p>Another awful plunge into the hollows, and a hissing of boiling waves, -and a feeling as of water closing all round them. It seemed to Helen as -if <em>this</em> was the end—they had shipped a heavy sea, the boat reeled, -staggered, and made another effort—she was not going to founder just -yet.</p> - -<p>The stricken boatmen shouted hoarsely to one another, and baled in the -dark; Helen crept unconsciously closer to the steersman, and during a -lull in the blast, she said,—</p> - -<p>"You can swim, Mr. Lisle, of course, and if <em>you</em> escape, will you - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 75]</span> - -take a message from me to,"—with a sob—"poor papa?"</p> - -<p>"No, I won't," he answered roughly.</p> - -<p>"But I shall be drowned, I know," and she caught her breath at the -chilling thought.</p> - -<p>"If you are, I shall be drowned <em>too</em>, you may be sure of that. If I -am saved, you may rely upon it that you will be saved also. We will -sink or swim together. If she <em>does</em> capsize, don't lose your head, and -don't cling to me, whatever you do; trust me, and I'll take care of -you; but I hope it's not going to come to that," he added; then, after -a long silence and another blinding sea, he exclaimed, "Thank God, we -are over the worst, and under the lea of Ross!"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>It was still quite bad enough, but they were no longer exposed to the -full fury of the hurricane; in another ten minutes they were being -violently washed up and down against the soaking pier, in the presence -of a crowd of anxious faces, who were peering over, amidst the glare -of torches and general excitement. The first person to greet them was -Colonel Denis, looking like a man of seventy, and scarcely able to -articulate.</p> - -<p>"Oh, Helen," he cried, as he seized his tottering, dripping daughter, -"this has nearly killed me! Only an hour ago we missed you, and you -were sighted from the lookout just before dark, and I never believed -that any boat could live in that," pointing his hand at the black, -hissing sea.</p> - -<p>As Helen and her father stood thus together on the steps, she trying to -realize that she was safe, and he most thankfully doing the same—the -white boat showed signs of shoving off.</p> - -<p>"You are not going over to Aberdeen now!" shouted Colonel Denis, -descending, and making a futile grab at the gunwale. "Are you a madman?"</p> - -<p>"It's not so bad inside, between the islands," roared the other in -reply. "Good-night."</p> - -<p>"Papa, stop him! Mr. Lisle," shrieked Helen, "come back—come back, Mr. -Lisle."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 76]</span></p> - -<p>The idea of any one putting out again among those tumbling waves, -seemed to her nothing less than suicidal; but the white boat was -already gone,—lost almost instantaneously in the surrounding darkness.</p> - -<p>"It's not so risky between this and Aberdeen, Miss Denis," said Dr. -Malone; "and Lisle is a capital sailor. But what a grand fright you -have given us all, and what a terrible trip you must have had!"</p> - -<p>Miss Denis made no reply; she staggered up to the top of the steps and -stood upon the pier in the light of half-a -dozen torches—a strange -figure, in a dripping dress, with her long hair covering her as a kind -of mantle, and hanging far below her waist in thick dark masses.</p> - -<p>"Take her home, and put her to bed at once," said Dr. Malone, "and -give her a warm drink, and don't let any one worry her with questions" -(doubtless he was thinking of Mrs. Creery); "to-morrow morning I will -call, and she will be all right, and will tell us how it happened that -she let us go off without her."</p> - -<p>But how that came to pass was never clearly explained up to the present -day; people had their suspicions, but suspicions go for very little.</p> - -<p>Miss Denis carried out Dr. Malone's instructions to the letter. She -went home and went to bed and fell sound asleep. One thing she did -which he had not prescribed,—</p> - -<p>She dreamt of Mr. Lisle!</p> - -<hr class="r15" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_X">CHAPTER X.<br /><br /> -<span class="small">MR. LISLE FORGETS HIS DINNER.</span></h2> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container37"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="blockquot"> -<div class="verse first-line">"A little fire is quickly trodden out,</div> -<div class="verse">Which, being suffered, rivers cannot quench."</div> - </div> - </div> - </div> -</div> -<div class="sig-left60"><cite>Henry VI.</cite></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Miss Denis</span> was none the worse for her adventure the next morning, and -was called upon to give a full, true, and particular account of herself -to Mrs. Creery and Mrs. Home, also Mrs. Graham and Mrs. Green (who - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 77]</span> - -had prudently stayed all night on Ross). No one could imagine how the -mistake had occurred, and all these ladies talked volubly together on -the subject, and it afforded the island a nine days' wonder, though -that was not saying much! Mrs. Creery was certainly most thankful that -Helen (she now called her by her Christian name) had been brought back -in safety, but she was by no means as well pleased at the means to -which they owed her restoration.</p> - -<p>"Of course, my dear Helen, you need not notice him," she said, -<i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">apropos</i> of Mr. Lisle; "just let your father thank him, or send a -message by Mr. Quentin; that will be ample!"</p> - -<p>Mr. Lisle having made Aberdeen with some difficulty, had toiled up -hill, closely followed by the shivering boatmen, in quest of glasses -of rum. He was cold, and stiff, and exhausted; both mind and body had -been strung to their utmost tension for the last three hours, and he -sank into a Bombay chair in the verandah, and threw off his soaking -hat with a sense of thankfulness and relief. There he remained for a -long time in his wet clothes, staring out on the black, ragged-looking -clouds, through which a very watery moon was vainly trying to assert -herself. Mr. Quentin was dining elsewhere, and Mr. Lisle kept dinner -waiting till it was his good pleasure to partake of that meal. -(Eastern cooks are accustomed to a meal being put back or forward an -hour or so according to their masters' whims. These sudden orders -never ruffle their composure, whilst in England such proceedings -would cause domestic revolutions.) For more than an hour Mr. Lisle -lay back in the comfortable chair which he had first occupied as a -mere momentary resting-place; evidently he had something out of the -common to occupy his thoughts. How long was it since he had spoken to -a lady? (Apparently Mrs. Creery went for nought.) His mind reviewed -but cursorily his morning's sport, dwelt a short time on the various -incidents of that terrible sail, and rested finally for a considerable -period on the contemplation of his lady passenger; he could see her -before his mental vision quite distinctly <em>now</em>, as she stood on the -pier steps, with her soaking, clinging dress, her streaming hair and - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 78]</span> - -colourless face, on which the torches threw a blinding light; see her -stretching out her hands, and calling after him in a tone of agonized -appeal,—</p> - -<p>"Mr. Lisle, come back! Come back, Mr. Lisle!"</p> - -<p>It was a curious fact, he said to himself with a rather cynical grin, -that this was positively the very first invitation he had ever received -to Ross; and the circumstance seemed to amuse him not a little.</p> - -<p>After a while he began to think that he was rather a fool, sitting -there mooning in his wet clothes, and he rose and stretched himself and -went into the house, and having changed his garments, sat down to his -solitary meal. He and Jim Quentin met at breakfast as usual; the latter -was generally too much engrossed with his own proceedings to take any -vivid interest in his companion's pursuits—to do as little work as -possible, to get as much novel-reading, cigarette-smoking, and physical -and mental ease, was the bent of his mind, and his thoughts were solely -centred in himself and his own arrangements.</p> - -<p>He never troubled his head about Lisle's "manias;" fishing, and -boating, and shooting were all bores to him, involving far too much -bodily exertion and discomfort. He took all his partner's adventures -for granted, and never expected that these were of a more thrilling -description than the capture of a big shark or the slaughter of a wild -hog.</p> - -<p>"What a gale that was last night!" he said, as he languidly helped -himself to devilled kidneys. "By George! the picnic party must have -found it pretty lively coming back. It blew a hurricane! But I suppose -they were in before that?"</p> - -<p>"They were," assented Mr. Lisle—and whatever else he was going to -add was interrupted by the appearance of one of the boatmen in his -blue cotton suit, salaaming profoundly at the foot of the verandah -steps. He had something in his hand. What? It was the miserable wreck -of a lady's smart, cream-coloured parasol! A jaunty article, that had -tempted Helen's fancy in a London shop window, and was now a mere limp -rag, cockled and shrunken with sea-water—having been thrown into the - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 79]</span> - -bottom of the boat and there forgotten.</p> - -<p>"Halloa!" exclaimed Mr. Quentin. "What is that?"</p> - -<p>"Miss Denis's parasol, which was left in the gig. I brought her back -from North Bay last night," replied his companion, with as much -composure as if it were a part of his daily programme.</p> - -<p>The other made no immediate reply, but turning half round in his chair, -surveyed him steadily for some seconds.</p> - -<p>"<em>You</em> brought her back?" he repeated incredulously. "And why, in the -name of all that's extraordinary?"</p> - -<p>"For the very excellent reason that she wished to be my passenger," -returned Mr. Lisle, coolly.</p> - -<p>"I hate riddles"—irritably. "What the deuce do you mean?"</p> - -<p>"I mean that Miss Denis was left behind by her party owing to some very -queer mistake, that I happened to be sailing by, like Canute the king, -and that she hailed the boat, and we took her off."</p> - -<p>"Quite romantic, upon my word"—with a rather forced laugh. "Well," -after a pause, "now that you have seen her, what do you think of her?"</p> - -<p>"How can I tell you? It was as dark as pitch; I only had a glimpse of -her now and then by lightning."</p> - -<p>"Yes; and that glimpse?"</p> - -<p>"Showed me that she had heaps of hair. She did not scream or make a -fuss, but kept quiet, for which I was really grateful."</p> - -<p>"And did you have any talk?"</p> - -<p>"Talk! My good sir, are you aware that we were out in that hurricane -between seven and eight o'clock last night, and that it was by God's -mercy we escaped with our lives?"</p> - -<p>"I dare say you would like to improve the acquaintance now you have -seen her—eh? Come, tell the truth."</p> - -<p>Mr. Lisle made no reply; this question had hit the goal—he certainly -<em>did</em> feel a curious and unusual interest in this girl. All the same, -he made up his mind that this novel sensation would wear off within the -next twenty-four hours, and whether or no, he did not mean to yield to -it.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 80]</span></p> - -<p>Mr. Quentin crossed to Ross alone, somewhat to his own surprise; and -Helen, as she listened to his condolences, felt rather an odd little -twinge of disappointment, for she had half expected that for once he -would have been accompanied by his mysterious companion. To-day her -smiles were not as responsive, nor her laughter as ready as usual. -Her keen-witted visitor did not fail to notice this,—also a curious -abstraction in her manner. She was partly thinking of Mr. Lisle (with -an interest that surprised herself), and partly recalling to her mental -eye that little pink figure seated on the log, with a face convulsed -with passion, and dozens of love-letters scattered round her on the -moss!</p> - -<p>About a week later Colonel Denis met Mr. Lisle in the Bazaar and -insisted on his accompanying him home, and being there and then -presented to his daughter.</p> - -<p>"She wants to thank you herself; only for you she believes that she -would have lost her wits; only for you she would have had to pass a -whole night on that coast alone."</p> - -<p>Vainly did his captive mutter "that it was nothing; that he was only -too glad to have had the opportunity," &c., Colonel Denis was not -to be denied, and he led him off, <i xml:lang="la" lang="la">nolens volens</i>, to make formal -acquaintance with the island beauty at last.</p> - -<p>Miss Denis was sitting on the steps of the bungalow feeding a tame -peacock, but as she saw her father approaching with a visitor in -tow, she stood up, rather shyly, to receive them. She looked quite -different to-day (naturally). Her dress was soft, cream-white muslin, -a heavy Indian silver belt encircled her slender waist, her hair was -bound round her head in thick plaits, her countenance was serene—and -marvellously pretty. It struck Mr. Lisle's artist eye that she and her -pet peacock would make a very effective picture, with that glimpse of -blue sea and palms as their background.</p> - -<p>Of course she had a conviction that this spare, sunburnt man following -her father was the redoubtable <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">bête-noire</i>, who, although she had been -two months in the settlement, she had never yet met with face to face, -save in the gloom on that eventful evening.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 81]</span></p> - -<p>After a little talk about the storm and the picnic, they adjourned -indoors and sat in the shady drawing-room, whilst Sawmy brought in -afternoon tea.</p> - -<p>"How do you like this part of the world, Miss Denis?" asked her -visitor. "No doubt you are tired of the question by this time?"</p> - -<p>"I like it extremely; so much that I believe I could live here all my -life."</p> - -<p>Mr. Lisle smiled incredulously and slightly raised his brows.</p> - -<p>"Yes," in reply to his expression. "Where could you find a more lovely -spot—a kind of earthly Paradise?"</p> - -<p>"And a land where it is always afternoon," quoted her companion; "but -you will probably get tired of it in six months, and be glad enough to -stretch your wings."</p> - -<p>"No, indeed"—indignantly—"why should I? I have everything I want -here, and every wish fulfilled." She paused, became exceedingly red, as -if she were afraid she had been too gushing to this stranger.</p> - -<p>"I am filled with amazement and respect, Miss Denis; you are the only -person I have ever come across who admitted that they were now, in the -actual present, absolutely contented, and had no unsatisfied cravings. -But perhaps yours is a contented mind?"</p> - -<p>"No, I have not been contented elsewhere; but here it is different; -here I have my home, and papa——"</p> - -<p>She hesitated, and her listener mentally added—"And Jim Quentin!"</p> - -<p>"And I think perpetually fine weather, and beautiful surroundings, and -liberty, go a long way towards making one feel as I do. Every morning -when I wake, I have an impression that something delightful is going to -happen during the day."</p> - -<p>"Jim's visit of course," thought her companion. A sure sign that she is -in love, but he merely said aloud,—</p> - -<p>"It's well you mentioned liberty, for I fancy that scenery and sunshine -go a short way with those beggars," pointing to a group of brown -convicts, who were now wending silently down the road. "Do you not find -everything very different out here to what it is at home?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 82]</span></p> - -<p>"Yes; but I had no home, I was always at school. Papa and I have so few -belongings—but I am quite forgetting all this time that I have not -offered you a cup of tea."</p> - -<p>Mr. Lisle watched her as she busied herself among the spoons and -saucers, and thought what a nice child she was, and what a shame it -would be to let Jim Quentin break her heart!</p> - -<p>"You see a good deal of Quentin," he remarked rather suddenly; but -her colour did not rise as she handed him his tea, nor did the cup -rattle in the saucer at the mention of that potent name. She met Mr. -Lisle's keen interrogative glance with the utmost composure. How -different he seemed without his hat, and how strange it was that it had -never occurred to any one to mention that Mr. Lisle was handsome! The -circumstance came home to her quite unexpected, as she now noticed his -well-shaped head and profile; true his skin was tanned brown by the -sun, his hair was touched with grey upon the temples, but in her heart -she there and then discovered that he had a far more striking face than -irresistible "Apollo" Quentin.</p> - -<p>"I am taking this to papa," she said, rising; "he sits in the verandah, -you see."</p> - -<p>"Yes, I see"—receiving the cup from her hand and carrying it out to -his host who was absorbed in a blue document. (Mr. Quentin had trained -him to efface himself in this fashion, for to be quite frank, he could -not stand that gentleman's society, much less his songs and sentimental -speeches.)</p> - -<p>"I suppose," said Mr. Lisle, as he passed the piano—Helen's own -property,—"that that is Quentin's last new ditty," indicating a -piece on the music stand. "I know it's just in his line, 'Told in the -Twilight.'"</p> - -<p>"Yes."</p> - -<p>"I'm sure it gives him great pleasure coming over here, and listening -to your music?"</p> - -<p>"I believe he derives some enjoyment from his own singing also," she -replied, demurely,—remembering the hours that she had toiled over his -accompaniments. "Are you musical?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 83]</span></p> - -<p>"In theory only, not in practice. I am very fond of listening to a -string band, or to good instrumental performers, but as far as I'm -concerned myself, I cannot play on a comb, much less a Jew's-harp! I -see"—glancing at some books—"that you read, Miss Denis. May I ask -where you get your literature?"</p> - -<p>"Some from the library at Calcutta,—some from Mr. Quentin." This -latter announcement was a shock.</p> - -<p>"Ah!—I daresay his contributions are more entertaining than -instructive! So you read French novels?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, no!"—becoming scarlet—"I have never read any except a few French -stories, Miss Twigg picked out. Mr. Quentin merely lends me books of -poetry and magazines, more solid reading I get elsewhere."</p> - -<p>"Why do you read solid books?"</p> - -<p>"Chiefly to discover my own deplorable ignorance, I live and unlearn," -and she laughed.</p> - -<p>"Really"—also smiling—"and how?"</p> - -<p>"Well, for instance, until last week I was under the impression that -America had been discovered by Christopher Columbus, in the year 1492."</p> - -<p>"I fancy that most people are still labouring under the same delusion."</p> - -<p>"But it is quite wrong"—shrugging her shoulders—"it was found by -Buddhist priests in the fourth century, at least so says a book that I -have just finished, and there does not seem to be the smallest doubt -upon the question in the author's mind."</p> - -<p>"Miss Denis," said her listener, gravely, "your reading is too deep -for me, and I shall be quite afraid of you. The next time I see you, -you will be telling me that it is all a mistake about the battle of -Waterloo, that there was no such person as Queen Elizabeth, and that -Ireland was first discovered by the Japanese."</p> - -<p>Helen laughed immoderately, and then said,—</p> - -<p>"Why Ireland of all places?"</p> - -<p>"I don't know, unless because it is generally the unexpected that -happens with regard to that country."</p> - -<p>"Have you ever been there?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, frequently; I've an uncle in the Emerald Isle, who has carried - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 84]</span> - -on an ink feud for years with my father,—but is gracious enough to me."</p> - -<p>"And I've an aunt there, who is the very reverse, for she never answers -papa's letters!"</p> - -<p>"Then supposing we make an exchange of relatives?" suggested Mr. Lisle.</p> - -<p>Colonel Denis was quite astonished to hear so much animated -conversation and laughter in his neighbourhood, and could not see why -he should not have a share in whatever was going on; but shortly after -he made his appearance Mr. Lisle took his leave; and Helen was really -amazed, when she saw by the little clock that his visit had lasted -almost an hour!</p> - -<p>"A very gentlemanly, agreeable man, no matter <em>who</em> he is," said her -father, after he had sped the parting guest; "eh, Nell?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, papa."</p> - -<p>"And <em>I</em> don't believe with Mrs. Creery, that he is one of our -fellow-countrymen who are obliged to roam the world over,—owing to -their invincible ignorance of the number of kings which go to a pack of -cards," added Colonel Denis as he picked up a newspaper, and subsided -into an arm-chair.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Mr. Lisle imparted the history of his visit to his host that same -evening after dinner.</p> - -<p>"And what do you think of her now you have seen her in daylight?" asked -Mr. Jim, who seemed anxious to have his friend's verdict.</p> - -<p>"Oh, that she is a pretty girl, of course, unspoiled as yet, and -charmed with her surroundings, and immensely delighted at finding -herself grown up, and mistress of that bungalow,—which is her doll's -house so far."</p> - -<p>"And do you think she likes <em>me</em>?"</p> - -<p>"Yes; of course I did not put the delicate question point-blank as your -deputy, but I daresay she does; for her own sake I hope she won't get -any further than liking!"</p> - -<p>"You are frankness itself, my dear fellow, and <em>why</em>?"</p> - -<p>"Because she is much too good for you, and you know it! You have been - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 85]</span> - -in love about fifty times already, and for pure lack of something to -do, are thinking of offering the shell of your heart to this pretty -penniless child. She would accept it—if she cared for you—<i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">au grand -sérieux</i>, and give hers in return, for always; but you, once your -little <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">entr'acte</i> was played out here—say in three months—would sail -away, leave her, and forget her! You have done it to dozens according -to your own confession;—why not again?"</p> - -<p>The expression of tolerant amusement on his hearer's face rapidly gave -way to indignation, and he said with much asperity,—</p> - -<p>"This is vastly fine! You are uncommonly eloquent on behalf of Miss -Helen's maiden affections; you beat old Parks in a common walk! One -would imagine that I was some giant Blunderbore who was going to eat -her! Or that——" and he paused, and blew a cloud of smoke into the air.</p> - -<p>"Or what?" asked the other quietly.</p> - -<p>"That you meant to enter the lists yourself, since you <em>will</em> have it."</p> - -<p>Mr. Lisle picked a crumb off the cloth, and made no reply, and his -companion proceeded,—</p> - -<p>"But of course you know as well as I do myself, that such an idea for -<em>you</em> would be all the same as if you went and hanged yourself out on -the big tree in Chatham!"</p> - -<p>To this Mr. Lisle said nothing, but smoked on for a long time in dead -silence. At last he got up, threw his napkin over the back of his -chair, and said, gravely,—</p> - -<p>"If you are really in earnest for once, and hope to win the girl, and -marry her,—well and good. I believe you will have all the luck on your -side; if on the other hand, you merely intend to seize such a rich -opportunity for amusing yourself, and playing your old game——"</p> - -<p>"What then?" demanded Jim with a lazy challenge in his eye.</p> - -<p>"You will see what then!" rejoined the other, standing up and looking -at him fixedly, with his hands grasping the back of his chair. He -remained in this attitude for fully a minute, and neither of them -spoke; then he turned abruptly, walked out into the back verandah, and - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 86]</span> - -down the steps, and away in the direction of the sea-shore.</p> - -<p>Mr. Quentin took his cigar out of his mouth, leant his head on one -side, and listened intently to his fast receding footsteps. When their -final echo had died away, he resumed his cheroot with a careless shrug -of his shoulders.</p> - -<p>"Did Lisle mean to threaten him?"</p> - -<p>It certainly looked uncommonly like it.</p> - -<hr class="r15" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XI">CHAPTER XI.<br /><br /> -<span class="small">THE FINGER OF FATE!</span></h2> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container39"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="blockquot"> -<div class="verse first-line">"Gigantic shapes and shadows gleam,</div> -<div class="verse indent2">Portentous through the night."</div> - </div> - </div> - </div> -</div> -<div class="sig-left60"><cite>Longfellow.</cite></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">From</span> this time forward, Mr. Lisle -occasionally accompanied his companion to Ross, and listened to the -band, and was even to be met with at tennis parties, in brave defiance -of Mrs. Creery's frowns and Miss Caggett's snubs. Helen noticed that he -was tabooed, and lost no opportunity of speaking to him or smiling on -him—but such opportunities were rare. Mr. Quentin had a way, acquired -by long practice,—of elbowing away all intruders from the vicinity -of those whom he delighted to honour; and effectually introduced his -own large person between Helen and any other swains that might seek -her society;—in short, he monopolized her completely. Mr. Lisle had -entirely abandoned photography, shooting, and sailing, for the very -poor exchange of the <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">rôle</i> of a -dispassionate spectator. Why did he come to Ross to see what he did -not like? his friend's handsome face bent over the beautiful Miss -Denis, eliciting her smiles and merry laughter. Naturally, like most -lookers-on, he saw a good deal—the envious outer circle of young men, -and Miss Caggett, who had long ago made a truce with Helen, but who -loved her as little as of yore, and was about as fond of her as any -lady could be who beheld her rival - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 87]</span> - -appropriating her own special property! Still, she figuratively folded -her enemy to her bosom, and smothered her feelings wonderfully,—but -Mr. Lisle fathomed them. Perhaps he had a fellow-feeling for her, who -knows? It appeared to him, that the citadel of Miss Denis's heart -was carried at last; and who could wonder, that an inexperienced -school-girl would long hold out against the artillery of Mr. Quentin's -attractions; attractions that had proved irresistible to so many -of her sex! No, he noticed that she coloured, and looked conscious -whenever he appeared, and was not that a sure symptom that the outer -fosse was taken? Little did he imagine, that the unfortunate young -lady felt exactly as if she were helplessly entangled in the web of a -huge spider, that she would have given worlds to rid herself from this -ever-hovering, ever-overshadowing presence,—that so effectually kept -any one she wished to speak to aloof and out of reach. Her natural good -nature, and politeness, prevented her from actually dismissing him, and -she had not the wit, or the experience to get rid of him otherwise. -She had indeed ventured on one or two timid hints, but with regard to -anything touching another person's wishes, Mr. Jim had no very keen -perceptions; and with respect to his own company being anything but -ever welcome, he would not have believed Miss Denis, even if she had -told him so in the plainest terms! Why should <em>she</em> be different -to the rest of her sex? they all liked him! So Mr. Quentin kept his -station by her side, by his own wish, and by public concurrence. He -immediately joined her whenever she appeared, carried her bat, her -shawl, or her band programme, held her tea-cup, walked home with her, -and visited her three or four times a week. It was too tiresome, that -he should be her invariable companion, and vainly had she endeavoured -to break her chains, but he was older, and more experienced, than -she was,—and thoroughly understood the art of making <em>her</em> -conspicuous, and himself immovable! Little did Mr. Lisle guess that -Miss Denis would have much preferred him as a companion. Alas! the -world is full of contrariness.</p> - -<p>Mr. Quentin appreciated Helen because she was difficult to fascinate, -Helen appreciated Mr. Lisle because he held himself aloof, and never - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 88]</span> - -gave any one the chance of acquiring that familiarity, which notably -breeds contempt! and Mr. Lisle was greatly surprised to find, that he -was exceedingly envious of his friend, that he admired Helen Denis more -than any girl he had ever seen! But he admired, and stood afar off; no -thought of disloyalty to James Quentin. No <em>arrière pensée</em> of that -motto, "All's fair in love and war," ever entered his mind, he was only -sorry, as he said to himself, that he was too late!</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The Settlement band played twice a week in the little public gardens -on Ross, and their strains were an irresistible summons to all the -(free) inhabitants. One special afternoon, we notice Mrs. Home holding -animated converse with Mr. Latimer, in his cool, black alpaca coat; -we see Mrs. Creery enthroned on a sofa (which she always provided) -alone, clad in a gorgeous combination of colours, that could only have -been achieved by a daring soul! We observe Helen and Miss Caggett in -company—the latter had apologized for her outbreak. "It would not -<em>do</em>," she said to herself, "to be on bad terms with the Denis girl, -she was too popular, all the men would be on her side, Captain Rodney, -Mr. Green, and that ugly Irishman, Dr. Malone; wretches who were always -praising her rival in her hearing!" A day or two after the storm, she -had gone to Helen, and begged and implored her to forget a certain -scene between them in the forest above North Bay; declared that she -would be miserable for life if Helen was not her friend, that she would -rather have her little finger than Mr. Quentin's whole person, that she -would sooner marry the typical crossing-sweeper than him, and that she -had been very cross and bad-tempered, and hoped that Helen would forget -an occasion that it would make her blush to recall! This was very fine, -but <em>who</em> had ever seen Miss Caggett blush? However, Helen was quite -ready to accept the olive-branch, and, like the school-boys, to say -"Pax."</p> - -<p>There was a considerable gathering at the band, including "Mr. Quentin -and Co.," as Mrs. Creery humorously called them. On band nights, the -former usually reclined on the sward, literally and figuratively at - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 89]</span> - -Helen's feet, but to-night this butterfly was occupied (in quite a -temporary manner) with a nice-looking widow, who had come over from -Rangoon to pay a visit to her sister, Mrs. King, at Viper. People were -walking about in couples, standing in groups, and sitting down in rows. -Mrs. Creery (who did not appreciate the solitude of greatness) nodded -to Helen to approach, and take a place beside her, saying, rather -patronizingly, as she accepted the invitation, "So I hear that your -little bachelor's dinner went off quite nicely, and that everything was -eatable except the ice pudding!"</p> - -<p>Helen felt annoyed, "quite nicely" was indeed but faint praise, after -all the trouble she had taken, and the success that she flattered -herself she had achieved.</p> - -<p>She made no reply, but became rather red.</p> - -<p>"And you had Mr. Quentin, of course, and the General, and Mr. Latimer, -and Dr. Parks. What champagne did you give them; from the mess, or the -bazaar?"</p> - -<p>"Bazaar champagne! Oh, Mrs. Creery"—indignantly—"there is no such -thing, is there?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, and why not? I believe no one can tell the difference between -it and that expensive stuff at the mess. I declare—" her attention -suddenly distracted to another quarter—"look at Mr. Lisle, in a -respectable suit of clothes"—glancing over to where that gentleman was -talking to three men.</p> - -<p>"Billy!" she screamed to one of Mrs. Home's little boys, "go over -to Mr. Lisle, and tell him that I want him at once. Fancy"—turning -to Helen and speaking in a tone of pious horror—"those men are -European convicts, tickets-of-leave, and allowed to use the garden and -library—a very unwise indulgence. I quite set <em>my</em> face against it, -and so I've told the General. Of course no decent person would speak to -the wretches; no one but a man like Lisle!"</p> - -<p>"What have they been sent here for?" asked her companion.</p> - -<p>"One for forgery, one for stabbing a man in a sailor's row in -Calcutta, and one was, <em>he</em> says, sent here by mistake; but most of -them say <em>that</em>! Well," raising her voice, "Mr. Lisle, permit me to - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 90]</span> - -congratulate you on your choice of companions."</p> - -<p>"Poor creatures! They never have the chance of exchanging a word with -any one but each other, it pleases them, and does <em>me</em> no harm. Lots of -worse fellows are at large,—and prospering!"</p> - -<p>"Oh, pray don't excuse yourself, Mr. Lisle. Birds of a feather—you -know the adage."</p> - -<p>"Yes, thank you, Mrs. Creery," making an inclination of such -exaggerated deference, that Helen now understood what Miss Caggett -meant, when she said that he was polite to rudeness. "You sent for me, -Mrs. Creery?"—interrogatively.</p> - -<p>"Yes, because I did not choose to see you talking to those jail birds! -You can talk to <em>me</em> instead."</p> - -<p>Here was alluring invitation!</p> - -<p>"Of course you know Miss Denis—but only recently. You were late in -welcoming her to Port Blair!"</p> - -<p>"I have the pleasure of knowing Miss Denis, but as to welcoming her to -Port Blair, such a proceeding would be altogether presumptuous on my -part, and no doubt she received a welcome, from the proper quarter." -And he once more bowed himself before Mrs. Creery.</p> - -<p>Helen could scarcely keep her countenance when she met his eyes, and -hastily turned off her smiles by saying,—</p> - -<p>"I am sorry you could not dine with us last night."</p> - -<p>"Mr. Lisle <em>never</em> dines out," replied the elder lady, speaking -precisely as if she was Mr. Lisle's interpreter.</p> - -<p>"Quentin is talking of getting up a dinner," he said, "in fact he is -rather full of it."</p> - -<p>"Dinner! Well, don't let him give it till full moon. I hate crossing -in the dark, and be sure it is on a mutton-day!" said the elder lady -authoritatively. (N.B. Mutton was only procurable once a week.)</p> - -<p>"I will remember your suggestions, but a good deal depends on the -butler, and <em>his</em> inclination. He is rather an imperious person, we -have but little voice in the domestic arrangements."</p> - -<p>"<em>You!</em>"—scornfully—"of course not; but I should hope that Mr. -Quentin is master of his own house."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 91]</span></p> - -<p>"He leaves all to Abraham, and generally everything has turned out -well—except perhaps the writing of the <em>menu</em>! Last time, people were -a little startled on glancing over it, to see that they were going to -partake of 'Roast lion and jam pupps.'"</p> - -<p>Helen laughed delightedly, but the elder lady gravely said, "Oh, roast -loin and jam puffs. Well, that's the worst of not having a lady in the -house. Such mistakes never happen in <em>my</em> establishment!"</p> - -<p>"Would you like to take a turn now, Miss Denis?" said Mr. Lisle, -glancing at her as he spoke.</p> - -<p>"I daresay she would, and so would I," returned Mrs. Creery briskly, -rising and walking at the other side of him, an honour for which he was -by no means prepared.</p> - -<p>"What is that unearthly noise?" inquired Helen; "<em>what</em> are those -sounds that nearly drown the band?"</p> - -<p>"Yes; reminds me of a pig being killed," rejoined Mr. Lisle; "but it -is merely the Andamanese school-children on the beach. This is the day -that their <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">wild</i> parents come to see them; they arrived this morning -in a big canoe, and doubtless brought all kinds of nice, wholesome, -dainty edibles for their young people. They are sitting in a circle, -whooping and yelling, real <i xml:lang="la" lang="la">bonâ fide</i> savages! Would you like to come -out and see them?"</p> - -<p>"Certainly not," exclaimed Mrs. Creery, indignantly.</p> - -<p>At this moment they were joined by the General and Captain Rodney, who -had just entered the gardens.</p> - -<p>"Have you heard anything more about that fellow, sir?" inquired Mr. -Lisle.</p> - -<p>"No; nothing as yet, but Adams and King are doing their best. I fancy -he has taken to the bush."</p> - -<p>"Oh! then in that case, the Andamanese will soon bring him in," -observed Mr. Latimer. "That, or starvation; roots and berries won't -keep soul and body together, though many have tried the experiment."</p> - -<p>"What! <em>what</em> is all this about? What do you mean?" inquired Mrs. -Creery, excitedly.</p> - -<p>"Oh! rather a bad business at Hadow last night. One of the convicts -killed a warder, and has got away," replied the General.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 92]</span></p> - -<p>"How did it happen?"</p> - -<p>"It seems that this fellow, Aboo Sait, a Mahomedan, has always been an -unusually bad lot. A few months ago, he nearly beat out the brains of -another convict with his hoe, merely excusing himself on the plea that -he was tired of life, and wanted to be hanged. However, as his victim -recovered, we were unable to oblige him, and he was heard to say that -he would do for a white man next time! Last night, just before they -went to section, he was missed, and one of the warders was sent to -look for him; but as he did not return, a general search was made, and -the warder was found on his face among the reeds, stabbed through the -heart, and Aboo was still missing."</p> - -<p>"I'm glad he is on the mainland!" ejaculated Mrs. Creery, with a -shudder. "I would not change places with Mrs. Manners for a trifle!"</p> - -<p>"Then he is not so desirous of being executed as you imagined," said -Mr. Lisle. "He did not give himself up."</p> - -<p>"Not he!" rejoined the General. "Life is sweet; his threats meant -nothing."</p> - -<p>"Perhaps he has gone off to sea," suggested Colonel Denis. "I know they -have all a foolish notion that those far-away islands are India, and -that the steamboat that brings them here, merely goes round and round -for a few days to deceive them—they being below under hatches."</p> - -<p>"No fear of his taking to the water, Colonel," replied the General. "I -have put a stop to that little game with the boats, and no convict crew -can now take out a boat, unless the owner, or some European, is with -them. The rascals went off with no end of boats, and got picked up at -sea as shipwrecked lascars, &c. Two even got so far north as London, in -the affecting character of 'castaways.'"</p> - -<p>"And how did they fare there?" inquired Helen.</p> - -<p>"In princely style, by their own account, they would like to repeat the -visit; they were fed and clothed and fêted and supplied with money; -they actually went to the theatre, and had their photographs taken—the -last a fatal snare—but they were vain! The moment they landed in -Bombay, thanks to their photos, the police wanted them, sent them back -to us—and here they are!"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 93]</span></p> - -<p>"Yes, the boats were a great temptation; but now they go off on logs," -said Mr. Latimer, "and even take to the sea in chains; the Malays, -especially, can swim like fish. However, their fellow-convicts are -getting too sharp for them; the reward of five rupees puts them on -their mettle."</p> - -<p>"Too much on their mettle, sometimes!" protested Mrs. Graham, who had -joined the group. "Last monsoon, my boatmen nearly capsized the boat -one evening I was returning from church. What between the runaway's -struggles to escape, and their determination to land him, once or twice -we were all within a point of going over. My screams and expostulations -were quite useless!"</p> - -<p>"The natives are very sharp after convicts, too," said the General; -"and I'll double the reward this time; it's not pleasant to leave such -a scoundrel as Aboo Sait loafing round the settlements,—especially as -he is <em>armed</em>!</p> - -<p>"Miss Denis," turning to Helen, "there is a very singular object in the -sky to-night, which I'm sure you have never seen; we call it Moses' -Horn. Lisle, you should take her up the hill, and let her see it before -it fades. I've a lot of work to do, and I'm going home," (to Helen) "or -I would not depute any one to exhibit this rather rare sight."</p> - -<p>In compliance with the General's suggestion, Helen and Mr. Lisle left -the little gardens together (despite Mrs. Creery's angry signals to the -former), and walked up to the flagstaff, and surveyed the sea and sky, -and beheld a long purple streak extending from the south, and pointing -as it were directly to the island. It was very sharply defined, and -gigantic in size, and had to Helen rather an awful, and supernatural -appearance.</p> - -<p>"It is shaped like a finger," she said at last. "I never saw anything -so strange!"</p> - -<p>"Yes, the finger of fate," agreed her companion, "and if I were -superstitious, I would say that it was pointing straight at us. Perhaps -there may be some remote connection between our planets; perhaps they -are identical."</p> - -<p>As they stood gazing, the phenomenon gradually melted away before their -eyes, and was replaced by the moon, which now rose out of the sea like -a huge fire balloon!</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 94]</span></p> - -<p>"The moon is irrepressible out here," remarked Mr. Lisle, "she seems -always to the fore."</p> - -<p>"So much the better," replied Helen, "these Eastern nights are -splendid. I wonder, by-the-way, why the moon has always been spoken of -by the feminine gender."</p> - -<p>"As the Lady Moon? Oh! that question is easily answered:—Because she -is never the same two days running."</p> - -<p>"Now, Mr. Lisle, I call that rude—a base reflection on my sex. I don't -believe we are half as changeable as yours.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container35"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="blockquot"> -<div class="verse first-line">" 'One foot on sea and one on shore,</div> -<div class="verse indent7">To one thing constant never.'</div> - </div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p>Pray, to whom does that refer?" and she looked at him interrogatively.</p> - -<p>"I could give you a dozen quotations on the other side, but I -will spare you; it is my opinion that women are as changeable as -weathercocks."</p> - -<p>"An opinion founded on your own experience?"</p> - -<p>"Well, no, I am wise; <em>I</em> profit by the experience of my friends."</p> - -<p>"Oh!" rather scornfully, "second-hand things are never valuable!"</p> - -<p>Mr. Lisle laughed and said, "Well, don't let us quarrel. What did we -start with? Oh! the moon;" and gazing over at that orb, he added, "I, -too, can repeat poetry, Miss Denis, and this seems just a fitting place -to quote:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container28"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="blockquot"> -<div class="verse first-line">" 'Larger constellations burning—mellow moons and happy skies;</div> -<div class="verse">  Breadths of tropic shade, and palms in clusters—knots of paradise.' "</div> - </div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p>This was an apt quotation, and exactly illustrated the scene before -them. The loud striking of a clock aroused these two people from a -rather reflective silence; it recalled them sharply from day dreams, -to the dinner-hour! And, after a little desultory conversation, they -retraced their steps, and rejoined the crowd in the gardens just as the -band was playing "God Save the Queen."</p> - -<hr class="r15" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 95]</span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XII">CHAPTER XII.<br /><br /> -<span class="small">THE WRECK.</span></h2> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container39"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="blockquot"> -<div class="verse">"The direful spectacle of the wreck."</div> - </div> - </div> - </div> -</div> -<div class="sig-left60"><cite>Tempest</cite></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">It</span> may be among the facts not generally known, that the Andaman seas -and shores are wealthy in shells; and people who grumble at being -despatched to do duty at the settlement are usually consoled by their -friends (who are not accompanying them), saying, "Oh, it's a charming -place! if you have a taste for conchology, you will have any quantity -of shelling."</p> - -<p>In most cases, the shelling is angrily repudiated, and yet the chances -are, that once arrived upon the scene of action, and stimulated by -general example and keen emulation, the new-comers will develop into -the most unwearying, rabid, and greedy of shellers!</p> - -<p>When I say a greedy sheller, I refer to an individual who, when tide, -wind and moon favour, will secretly take boat, and steal away to the -most likely parts of Corvyn's Cove, or some favourite reef at Navy Bay, -and there reaping a rich and solitary harvest, return with bare-faced -triumph, and swagger, dripping up the pier, between two lines of -outraged acquaintances, with a shameless air of,—</p> - -<p>"Ah, ha! see what <em>I</em> have got!"</p> - -<p>From the General, down to Billy Home, every one went shelling at Port -Blair, and some of these "shell maniacs" (as Mrs. Creery dubbed them) -had superb and valuable collections. There was as much excitement and -competition over a day's quest as would be expended on covert shooting -or salmon fishing at home. It was not merely a frivolous picking up -of pretty objects; it was a very serious business. The finder of the -rarest shells was the hero of the hour: the owner of "ring" cowries was -a person of repute!</p> - -<p>Behold, then, one afternoon, a few days after the band, two large -rowing-boats waiting at the pier for shellers! and kindly notice the - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 96]</span> - -party coming down to embark. An inexperienced eye would naturally -assume that they were all going to bathe, for each individual carries a -bag and a couple of bath towels—to put round the back of their heads -as they stoop in the sun. Their garments are whole, indeed, and quite -good enough for the occasion, but how faded, and shrunken, and cockled -with sea-water! Their boots—but no, we will draw a veil over these. To -be brief the appearance of the company is the reverse of distinguished. -In a few short happy hours they will return: they will be all soaking -in water from the waist downwards. (Luckily, wading about in the -nice, warm sea is rather pleasant after the first plunge, and people -in the excitement of shelling are insidiously drawn in deeper and -deeper still.) Yes, by six o'clock, if all goes well, we shall see -the company of shellers, returning like a party of half-drowned rats; -but there will be no shyness, no reluctance, in their progress up the -pier; without the least diffidence, they will run the gauntlet of -all the idlers, with an air of lofty pride, born of the noble spoils -they usually carry. Have they not in their bags such treasures as -"woodcocks," "staircases," "tigers," and "poached eggs"! We spare the -reader the Latin names of these rarities.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>To-day, the General (a keen sheller,) is going, also Mr. Latimer, -Captain Rodney, Dr. Parks, Miss Caggett, Dr. Malone, Colonel Home, -Colonel and Miss Denis, and last, but by no means least, Mrs. Creery -(and Nip). She does not condescend to shell, but she goes on principle, -as she rarely suffers an expedition to leave Ross without her patronage.</p> - -<p>Colonel Denis and his daughter came hurrying down, just as the party -were about to descend the steps.</p> - -<p>"Good gracious, Helen!" cried Mrs. Creery, "you are never going to -shell in <em>that</em> dress!" speaking exactly as if it were her own property.</p> - -<p>"No, no," shaking her head, and exhibiting a small block and paint-box. -"Have you forgotten that you are to leave me on the wreck to sketch?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 97]</span></p> - -<p>"Oh, true, so we are. Well, get in, <em>do</em>! My dear, you are keeping us -all waiting."</p> - -<p>In another two minutes the boats were full, and rowing away across -the water with long, steady strokes; then up the estuary, between -the wooded hills of Mount Harriet on one hand, and Hadow—where the -lepers were kept—at the other, past the little isle of Chatham, where, -according to a legend (for which I will not vouch), eighty convicts -were hanged on yon old tree, one May morning, and round the bend, till -they were in sight of the wreck, a large three-masted ship, stranded -on the muddy shallows, cast away there by some terrible cyclone as it -tore its way up the Bay of Bengal. Her history was unknown, for she was -already there when the Andamans were opened up, where she came from, -and what had been the fate of her crew and passengers—would never now -be learned. From her rigging, it was guessed that she was of American -build,—but that was all.</p> - -<p>Even in the brilliant afternoon light, she appeared grey and weird, -with her skeleton gear aloft, and her dark, wide-open ports, looking -like so many hollow eyes, as she lay among the tall bulrushes, sheathed -in sea-weed. Her cabins and deck were intact, and she had been used as -a hulk in former years, till, being the scene of a ghastly tragedy, and -other prisons having been built, she was once more abandoned to the -barnacles and the rats. She seemed much larger, and more awe-inspiring -at close quarters; and as they rowed under her stern, Helen, in -her secret heart, was rather sorry that she had been so determined -to spend two hours upon the wreck alone; that all the way down she -had jeered and laughed at Dr. Malone's warnings of cockroaches and -ghosts. However, there was no possibility of changing her mind <em>now</em>, -especially with Lizzie Caggett's inquiring eyes bent upon her—Lizzie, -who was mentally revelling in the prospect of the undivided attentions -of all Miss Denis' admirers, for the next two hours!</p> - -<p>"Now that it has come to the pinch, I believe you are afraid," she -remarked, with a malicious smile.</p> - -<p>The only reply that Helen vouchsafed to this taunt was by immediately -standing up. Greatly to her surprise, Mrs. Creery also rose, saying,—</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 98]</span></p> - -<p>"I think I'll go with you! Nip is fond of sniffing among old timber, -and he hates shelling, like his mistress."</p> - -<p>No one clamoured against <em>their</em> departure, and Helen was for once -in her life glad of Mrs. Creery's society, and grateful to Nip. The -two ladies were presently helped over the side (Nip being cautiously -carried up by the scruff of his neck), and the party were left by -themselves. To the last, Dr. Malone pressed Helen to "think better of -it, a quarter of an hour will be more than ample, you will see."</p> - -<p>At this prophecy, she merely shook her head, and showed her sketch-book.</p> - -<p>"I should not wonder if we find you both in the rigging when we come -back!" he shouted, as the boat rowed off, and making a speaking-trumpet -of his hands, he added, "she's full of rats!"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>As the sound of the oars grew fainter and fainter, Helen went to the -bows, from whence she hoped to make her sketch, and stood silently -looking at the view—at the wooded hills casting deep shadows into the -glassy water, at the arm of the sea they had just come up, and out in -the open ocean like a green gem in a silver setting—the distant island -of Ross. It was undoubtedly, as Mr. Latimer had suggested, a capital -place for a sketch, and she must lose no time, and make the most of the -light whilst it lasted. So she got out her paint-box and immediately -set to work; but,—and here I appeal specially to artists,—<em>is</em> it -easy to draw, with a large solar topee thrust over your right shoulder, -and a voice perpetually in your ear, saying,—</p> - -<p>"Oh, you are not making Ross nearly high enough! Surely that point is -never meant for Hopetown? those trees are too far apart; and Chatham is -crooked!"</p> - -<p>Helen was almost beside herself, every stroke was rudely criticized, -and Mrs. Creery emphasized her remarks with her chin, which was nearly -as sharp as that of the Duchess in <em>Wonderland</em>. At length she turned -her attention elsewhere, much to her victim's relief, and began to -investigate, and poke about among old spars and rubbish.</p> - -<p>After a delightful respite, Helen heard her calling out,—</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 99]</span></p> - -<p>"I see a little boat coming this way, with two men in it—no, one man -is a dog; it's from Navy Bay, and is sure to be Mr. Manners. I'll wave -and beckon him here, for it's very dull for me!"</p> - -<p>Accordingly Mrs. Creery's handkerchief (which was the size of an -ordinary towel) was seen being violently agitated over the side, and -met with an immediate response, for the little boat rowed by one man, -with one dog passenger, was soon within easy hail.</p> - -<p>"I do declare," cried Mrs. Creery peevishly, "if it is not that odious -Mr. Lisle! I never wanted <em>him</em>." However, wanted or not, he was -already alongside, looking up at the bulwarks expectantly.</p> - -<p>"Oh! it's you, Mrs. Creery! can I be of any service to you?"</p> - -<p>"I thought it was Mr. Manners," she called down in an aggrieved tone. -"I never dreamt of its being <em>you</em>! However, you may come up," speaking -precisely as if she were in her own verandah.</p> - -<p>Mr. Lisle did not look as if he was going to seize this niggardly -invitation; on the contrary, he took a firmer hold of the sculls, -glanced over his shoulder, and was evidently about to depart, when Mrs. -Creery casually remarked, as if it were a mere afterthought,—</p> - -<p>"Oh! by-the-way, Miss Denis is here too, sketching."</p> - -<p>Apparently this intelligence altered the case, for the gentleman -paused, rested on his oars, and said rather nonchalantly,—</p> - -<p>"Very well, I shall come aboard—since you wish it so particularly!" -and, rowing round, made fast his boat, and was soon on deck, closely -followed by a big brown retriever.</p> - -<p>"Oh, dear me!" cried Mrs. Creery, lifting up her hands. "So you have -brought that nasty dog! he is sure to fight with Nip."</p> - -<p>"Not he, I will be security for his good conduct. And how are you -getting on, Miss Denis?" to Helen, who was shyly hiding her drawing -with her arm.</p> - -<p>"Not at all well; I am not accustomed to sketching, and my attempt here -is such a libel on the view, that I am quite ashamed to let you see - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 100]</span> - -it, but it" (apologetically) "seems a pity not to try and take away -some recollections of these lovely islands."</p> - -<p>"Yes, you are quite right; and I shall be very glad to give you some -photographs, that is if you would care for them—they don't give the -colours, of course."</p> - -<p>(At this offer Mrs. Creery became rigid and gave a little warning -cough.)</p> - -<p>"But," taking up Helen's sketch, "this is not at all bad! Your -perspective is a bit out here, and you have not got the right shade in -the sea!"</p> - -<p>"I know it is all frightful; sea, and land, and sky," returned Helen, -colouring; "I am sure you can draw, Mr. Lisle: please have the charity -to do something to it for me, and make it look less like a thing on a -tea-tray," holding her box and brushes towards him as she spoke.</p> - -<p>Mr. Lisle, without another word, laid the block upon the bulwarks, -gazed for a moment at the scene, and then dashed in two or three -effective strokes, with what even Mrs. Creery (who had, of course, -followed up the sketch) could see was a master's hand.</p> - -<p>Helen's pale, meek, school-girl attempt received in three minutes -another complexion; with a few rapid touches, a glow of the setting-sun -lit up the sky, and threw out in bold relief the dark promontory of -Mount Harriet; a touch to the sea, and it became sea (no longer mere -green paper); palms and gurgeon trees appeared as if by magic; Helen -had never seen anything like the transformation. She almost held her -breath as she gazed—not quite so closely as the elder lady, whose -topee was in its old place;—why, the drawing-master at Miss Twigg's -could not paint a quarter as well as Mr. Lisle; who now looked at the -view, with his head on one side, and then glanced at Helen, amused at -the awe and admiration depicted on her countenance.</p> - -<p>"Yes, <em>that's</em> more like it," cried Mrs. Creery, encouragingly. "I told -you, you know," to Helen, "that your sea was too green and flat, and -your perspective all wrong! I know a good deal about drawing myself." -(May she be forgiven for this fable!) "My sister, Lady Grubb is a - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 101]</span> - -beautiful artist, and has done some lovely Decalcomanie vases; but -<em>you</em> paint very nicely, too, Mr. Lisle, really quite as well as most -drawing-masters!" Then, looking suddenly round, "But all this time -where is Nip? I do believe that he has followed that horrible brute of -yours down into the cabins!"</p> - -<p>"Not at all likely, Mrs. Creery, you know that they are not affinities; -Nip has followed his own inquisitive impulses, for Hero," moving aside, -"is here."</p> - -<p>"Well, where can he be? Nip, Nip, Nip!" walking away in search of her -treasure.</p> - -<p>"He is not <em>lost</em>, at any rate," muttered Mr. Lisle, "no such luck." -Then, in a louder tone, "Is not this a strange, out-of-the-world -place?" to Helen, who was watching his busy brush with childlike -interest. "If I had been suddenly asked about the Andamans, a couple of -years ago, I should have been puzzled to say whether they were a place, -a family of that name, or something to <em>eat</em>—wouldn't you?"</p> - -<p>"Not quite so bad as that," smiling.</p> - -<p>"Oh, of course, pardon me—I forgot that you are a young lady of most -unusual information."</p> - -<p>"No, no, no, I knew nothing about them, I candidly confess, till papa -came here."</p> - -<p>"They certainly well repay a visit," continued her companion, painting -away steadily as he spoke, "there is a sort of Arcadian simplicity, a -kind of savage solitude, an absence of worry, and not the slightest -hurry about anything, that has wonderful charms for me."</p> - -<p>"Then I suppose you are naturally lazy, and would like to bask in the -sun all day, and have one person to brush away the flies, and another -to do your thinking."</p> - -<p>"Miss Denis," suddenly looking up at her, with mock indignation, "you -speak as if you were alluding to one of the animals of the lower -creation;—what have I done to deserve this? I deny the impeachment -of laziness. 'Coming, sir,' my servant, will testify that I am out -every morning at half-past five; neither am I idle, but I like to -spend my time in my own way, not to be driven hither and thither by -dinner gongs, and railway bells, and telegrams. I like to pull my neck - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 102]</span> - -out from under the social yoke,—to carry out your uncomplimentary -simile,—and figuratively, to graze a bit!"</p> - -<p>Helen made no reply, but leant her chin on her hand, and looked down -abstractedly at the water for some time; twice her companion glanced -up, and saw that she was still buried in reflection. At last he said, -"I would not presume to purchase your thoughts, Miss Denis, but perhaps -you will be so generous as to share them with me?"</p> - -<p>"You might not like them! Some of them were about myself," and she -laughed rather confusedly.</p> - -<p>"And may I not ascertain whether I approve of them or not?"</p> - -<p>"You may, if you will promise not to be offended."</p> - -<p>"I promise in the most solemn manner; I swear by bell, book, and -candle; and I am very much honoured that you should think of me <em>at -all</em>!"</p> - -<p>"You are laughing at me, Mr. Lisle," she said, colouring vividly, -divining a lurking sarcasm in this speech. "I am dumb, and indeed I -have no business to criticize you even in my thoughts, much less to -your face——"</p> - -<p>"Speak out plainly, Miss Denis," he interrupted eagerly; "let me have -your views, good and bad, or bad alone."</p> - -<p>"It is very presumptuous in me I know—I am only a girl, and you are -a great deal older than I am—but it seems to me that every one has -some place of their own in the world allotted to them—some special -duty to fulfil—" here her listener glanced at her sharply, but her -eyes were bent unconsciously on the water, and she did not note his -gaze—"surely it is scarcely right to shirk one's share of all the toil -and the struggling in the outer world, and the chances of helping one's -fellow-creatures, in ways however small,—just for the selfish pleasure -of being securely moored from all annoyances among these sleepy -islands!"</p> - -<p>She stopped, and looked up at him rather timidly, with considerably -heightened colour, and added, in answer to his unusually grave face, -and stare of steadfast surprise,—</p> - -<p>"I can see that you think me a very impertinent girl, and will never -speak to me again; but you <em>would</em> have my thoughts, and there they -are, just as they entered my head!"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 103]</span></p> - -<p>"I think you are a brave and noble young lady, Miss Denis, and you -have taught me a lesson that I shall certainly take to heart. I came -here for six weeks, and have stayed nearly six months, enjoying this -lotus-eating existence, oblivious of my place in the world, and my -duty—and I <em>have</em> duties elsewhere; thank you for reminding me of -them, and indeed, my relations are beginning to think that I am lost, -or have fallen a prey to cannibals!"</p> - -<p>Here was Mr. Lisle speaking of his belongings and his plans for -once,—oh, why was not Mrs. Creery on the spot?</p> - -<p>However, she was not far off, and her shrill cry of "Nip, Nip, Nip! -where are you, Nip?" was coming nearer and nearer.</p> - -<hr class="r15" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XIII">CHAPTER XIII.<br /><br /> -<span class="small">"BLUE BEARD'S CHAMBER."</span></h2> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container35-5"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="blockquot"> -<div class="verse">"I doubt some danger does approach you nearly."</div> - </div> - </div> - </div> -</div> -<div class="sig-left60"><span style="margin-left: 1em;"><cite>Macbeth.</cite></span></div> - -<p>"<span class="smcap">He</span> must be in the saloon!" cried Mrs. Creery. "I've hunted the whole -ship, and I'm sure he has gone down. You," to Mr. Lisle, "will have to -go after him; I dare not, it looks so dark."</p> - -<p>To explore the rat-haunted cabins of this old hulk in search of "Nip," -was by no means an errand to Mr. Lisle's taste; he would infinitely -have preferred to remain sketching on the bulwarks, and conversing with -Helen Denis. However, of course he had no alternative. Go he must! -Somewhat to his surprise, the young lady said,—</p> - -<p>"I shall go too; the ports are open, there will be plenty of light, and -I want to investigate the cabins downstairs."</p> - -<p>"You had much better not, mind! you will only dirty your dress," urged -Mrs. Creery dissuasively, but Helen's slim white figure had already -vanished down the companion-ladder, in the wake of Mr. Lisle.</p> - -<p>At first it was as dark as Erebus—after coming out of the glare -above—but as their eyes became accustomed to the gloom, there was - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 104]</span> - -sufficient light from the open stern windows to show that they were -standing in a long narrow saloon, with numerous cabins at either side.</p> - -<p>"It looks quite like the steamer I came out in!" exclaimed the young -lady. (Anything but a compliment to a first-class P. and O.) "That is -to say, the length and shape. There are tables, too!" (These had not -been worth removing, and were fastened to the floor.)</p> - -<p>"It was used as a prison long ago, I believe," said Mr. Lisle.</p> - -<p>"Yes, and——"</p> - -<p>Helen was about to add that murder had been done there, but something -froze the sentence on her lips; it seemed scarcely the time and place -to speak of <em>that</em>.</p> - -<p>"Nip, Nip, Nip!" cried his infatuated mistress, who had cautiously -descended to the foot of the stairs, holding her petticoats tightly -swathed round her. "Where are you, you naughty dog? Ah!" shrieking, and -skipping surprisingly high, "I'm <em>sure</em> that was a rat!"</p> - -<p>"Not at all unlikely," rejoined Mr. Lisle, rattling noisily along the -wainscot with a bit of stick, whilst Mrs. Creery hurriedly withdrew up -half-a-dozen steps, where she remained plaintively calling "Nip, Nip, -Nip!"</p> - -<p>Miss Denis had meanwhile been looking out of the stern windows on the -now moonlit water, the tall bulrushes, and the wooded shores; and -here in a few moments she was joined by her fellow-explorer, who was -examining something in his hand.</p> - -<p>"See what I have found!" he said. "When I was hammering the old -boarding just now, a plank fell away, and this thing rolled out. I -believe," wiping it in his handkerchief as he spoke, and tendering it -for her inspection, "that it is a woman's ring."</p> - -<p>"A ring! so it is," returned Helen; "and it looks like gold."</p> - -<p>"Oh, yes! it's gold right enough, I fancy, and must have belonged to -one of the passengers of this ship."</p> - -<p>"I wonder who wore it last," turning it over. "I wish it could speak -and tell us its history, and how many years it is since it was lost."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 105]</span></p> - -<p>"It was a woman's ring; you see it would only just fit my little -finger," observed Mr. Lisle, putting it on as he spoke; "now try it on -yours." Helen slipped it on—it fitted perfectly.</p> - -<p>"It is an old posy or betrothal ring,—at any rate it resembles one -that my mother used to wear!"</p> - -<p>"Helen and Mr. Lisle! what are you doing?" screamed Mrs. Creery. -"You are chattering away there, and not helping me one bit." She was -standing on the ladder exactly as they had left her. "You have never -searched in the cabins! He may be shut up in one of them; try those -opposite, Helen! Do you hear me?"</p> - -<p>Thus recalled to their duty, Mr. Lisle now undertook to inspect one -side of the saloon, and his companion the other. All the compartments -that Helen had examined were empty so far,—but she came at last to -one—with a closed door!</p> - -<p>"Take care! it may be Blue Beard's closet," suggested Mr. Lisle -facetiously, as he looked in and out of cabins in his own neighbourhood.</p> - -<p>Helen laughed, turned the handle and entered; the moon shone clear -through the paneless port, and showed her a cabin exactly similar to -the others—just two wooden worm-eaten bunks, and that was all. Behind -the door—ah! a little song she was humming died away upon her lips, -and she uttered a stifled exclamation, as her startled eyes fell upon -a tall, powerful man in convict's dress, in short, no less a person -than Aboo Sait! In a twinkling his grasp was on her throat, crushing -her savagely against the wall. Vain indeed were her struggles, he was -strangling her with iron hands; his fierce turbaned face was within an -inch of hers, she felt his hot breath upon her cheek! She could not -scream or move, her hands fell nerveless at her sides, her sight was -failing, hearing seemed to be the only sense that had not deserted her! -she could distinctly catch the faint, irregular lapping of the water -against the old ship's sides, and Mrs. Creery's querulous voice calling -"Nip, Nip, Nip!" whilst <em>she</em> was dying!</p> - -<p>"Well, have you found Blue Beard or Nip?" demanded Mr. Lisle, pushing -back the door as he spoke. "Good God!"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 106]</span></p> - -<p>In another instant she was released—she breathed again. That awful -grip was off her throat, for with one well-delivered blow Aboo's prey -was wrenched from his grasp, and he himself sent staggering across the -cabin; but his repulse was merely momentary; the convict was armed with -a knife,—<em>the</em> knife; in a second it shone in his hand, and with a -tigerish bound he flung himself on the new-comer.</p> - -<p>And now within the narrow space of that cabin commenced such a struggle -for life and death as has seldom been witnessed. Mr. Lisle was a -middle-sized, well-made, athletic Englishman, endowed with iron muscles -and indomitable pluck—but he was over-matched by the convict in bone -and weight. Aboo was six foot two, as wiry as a panther, as lithe as a -serpent, and all his efforts were edged by the fatal fact that <em>he</em> had -everything to gain and everything to lose!</p> - -<p>The issue of this conflict meant to him, liberty and his very existence -on one hand, and Viper Island and the gibbet, on the other.—Win he -must, since the stake was his LIFE!</p> - -<p>They wrestle silently to and fro, finally out of the cabin, locked -in a deadly embrace. The Englishman, though stabbed in the arm, had -succeeded in clutching the convict's right wrist, so that for the -moment that sharp gleaming weapon is powerless! Aboo, on his side, -holds his antagonist in a wolfish grip by the throat—they sway, they -struggle, they slide and stagger on the oozy floor of the saloon. At -the moment, the advantage is with Aboo Sait—if he gets the chance -he will strangle this Feringhee devil, and cut the throat of that -white-faced girl, who is still leaning against the cabin wall, faint -and breathless.</p> - -<p>But he has not reckoned on another female—a female who has ceased -to call "Nip, Nip, Nip, Nip," and has now rushed up on deck with -outstretched arms, shrieking, "Murder! murder! murder!"</p> - -<p>"Fly, save yourself!" gasped Mr. Lisle to Helen, at the expense of an -ugly wound in the neck. She cannot fly; a kind of hideous spell holds -her to the spot, gazing on the scene before her with eyes glazed with -horror. Her very hair seems rising from her head, for she is perfectly -certain that murder will be done; the convict will kill Mr. Lisle, - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 107]</span> - -and <em>she</em> will be an involuntary witness of the awful deed! And yet -she cannot move, nor shake off this frightful nightmare; she is, as it -were, chained to her place. But hark! her ears catch distant singing, -and the rise and fall of oars. This familiar noise is the signal of her -release—the spell is broken.</p> - -<p>"They are coming! they are coming!" she screamed, and rushed upstairs, -calling "Help! help! help!" She sees the boats approaching steadily in -the moonlight, but, alas! their occupants are so entirely engrossed -in chaunting "Three Blind Mice," that her agonized signals, and Mrs. -Creery's piercing cries, are apparently unnoticed. And whilst they -are singing, <em>what</em> is being done in that dark cabin down below? She -thought with sickening horror of those two struggling figures, of that -gleaming, merciless knife, and hurried once more to the head of the -stairs. As she did so, she heard the sound of a heavy fall, and in -another moment, fear thrown to the wind, she was in the saloon.</p> - -<p>Mr. Lisle had slipped upon the slimy boards, made a valiant effort to -recover himself, but, overborne by the convict's superior weight, he -fell, still locked in that iron embrace. In the fall, the weapon had -flown out of Aboo's hand,—but only a short way, it was within easy -reach; and now, Gilbert Lisle, your hour has come! He sees it in the -criminal's face, he knows that his life is to be reckoned by seconds, -and yet his eye, as it meets that malignant gaze, never quails, though -it seems a hard fate to perish thus, in this old hulk, and at the hands -of such a ruffian! With his knee pressed down upon his victim's chest, -a murderous smile upon his face, Aboo stretched out a long, hairy, -cruel arm, to seize the knife, just as Helen reached the foot of the -ladder. Like lightning she sprang forward, pounced on it, snatched at -it, secured it—and running down the cabin, flung it far into the sea, -which it clave with one silvered flash, and then sank.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Miss Denis was not nearly so much frightened now,—nay, she felt -comparatively brave since <em>that</em> was gone. She heard the near sound - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 108]</span> - -of voices, and a noise of many steps hurrying downstairs. There was a -desperate struggle. In three minutes Aboo, once more a prisoner, with -his arms bound in his turban, was led up on deck, cursing and howling -and spitting like a wild cat. Here we behold Mrs. Creery, the centre -of an anxious circle, volubly narrating a story in which the personal -pronoun "I" is frequently repeated; and Helen, quite broken-down, -and trembling from head to foot, clinging to her father, looking the -picture of cowardice, as at the same moment Mrs. Creery might have sat -for the portrait of "Bellona" herself.</p> - -<p>Miss Caggett (who had had a most satisfactory afternoon) approached the -former and examined her curiously.—She was scarcely able to speak, and -was shaking like a leaf, and at this instant the General and Dr. Malone -came up from the saloon, followed by Mr. Lisle, minus his hat, his coat -in rags, and his arm in a sling. Every one looked at him for a moment -in silence, and then a torrent of words broke forth—words conveying -wonder, sympathy, and praise.</p> - -<p>But he, scarcely noticing the crowd, went straight up to Colonel Denis -and said, "Sir, I suppose you know that your daughter has just saved my -life?"</p> - -<p>"I—I—did not," he replied, astounded at this rather abrupt address; -"I thought it was the other way—that you saved hers!"</p> - -<p>"That fellow nearly strangled her; I'm afraid she got a fearful shock."</p> - -<p>"Miss Denis," addressing her in a lower voice, "words seem but feeble -things after such a deed as yours; but believe me, that I shall never -forget what your courage and presence of mind have done for me to-day."</p> - -<p>"No, no," she answered in a choked voice, shaking her head, "it was -you—<em>you</em>." More she could not utter, as the recollection of her -recent ordeal flashed before her, when Aboo had his deadly clutch upon -her throat. She turned away, and hiding her face against her father's -arm, burst into tears.</p> - -<p>"What a queer, hysterical creature!" remarked Miss Caggett <i xml:lang="it" lang="it">sotto -voce</i> to Dr. Malone. "All this fuss, just because Mr. Lisle caught a - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 109]</span> - -convict, and the convict tore his coat!"</p> - -<p>"I think there was more in it than that," objected her listener. "The -man nearly strangled her, and he was armed; somehow she got hold of the -knife and threw it away. The story is all rather confused as yet—but -she is an uncommonly plucky girl!"</p> - -<p>"She <em>looks</em> it," returned Lizzie, with a malicious giggle.</p> - -<p>"And," continued Dr. Malone, not noticing her interruption, "as for -Lisle, I always knew that he was a splendid chap."</p> - -<p>This speech was not palatable to Miss Caggett; she tossed her head and -replied,—</p> - -<p>"<em>I</em> see nothing splendid about him; and for that matter, Mrs. Creery -says that she saved everybody——"</p> - -<p>"Oh, of course," ironically. "I can tell you this much, that it's -well for Mrs. Creery that it was not an elegant, indolent fop that -happened to be aboard, like her friend, Mr. James Quentin; if <em>he</em> had -fallen foul of Aboo, Aboo would have made short work of him with his -flaccid muscles and portly figure; it was ten to one on the convict, -an exceptionally powerful man—he was desperate, like a wolf in a -cage, and he was armed. However, Lisle is as hard as nails, and a very -determined fellow, and whatever Mrs. Creery may choose to say, we owe -her valuable life to <em>him</em>."</p> - -<p>"He managed to save his own too," snapped Lizzie, as if she rather -regretted the circumstance.</p> - -<p>"Yes, but he has got a couple of very ugly deep cuts—one of them -dangerously near the jugular!"</p> - -<p>"It strikes me as a very curious fact, that within the last two months -Mr. Lisle and Miss Denis have been concerned in two most thrilling -adventures: they were nearly drowned coming from North Bay—at least, -so <em>she</em> says—and now they have been all but murdered; a remarkable -coincidence, and really very funny."</p> - -<p>"Funny! Miss Caggett. I think it would scarcely strike any one else in -a humorous light. It was a mere chance, and a lucky one for Miss Denis, -that she had Lisle to stand by her on both occasions."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 110]</span></p> - -<p>"She is welcome to him, as far as I'm concerned," retorted the young -lady waspishly.</p> - -<p>Dr. Malone grinned and thought of "sour grapes," and wondered if Miss -Denis was equally welcome to Apollo Quentin.</p> - -<p>All the shelling party were now assembled about the deck awaiting -a boat, which had been signalled for from Viper, to take charge of -the criminal. Mrs. Creery was still volubly expounding to one or two -listeners; Helen was sitting down with her face well averted from the -direction of Aboo, who, guarded by brother-prisoners (boatmen), stood -near the bulwarks, looking the very incarnation of impotent fury and -sullen despair. His late opponent remained somewhat aloof from the -crowd, talking to Mr. Latimer; he bore evident traces of the recent -deadly struggle, and leant against the weather-beaten wheel-house, as -if he was glad of its support. It was many a year since the deck of the -old wreck had carried such a crowd of passengers. After a considerable -delay the expected boat and warders arrived, and the writhing, -gibbering criminal was despatched in chains to Viper, having previously -made several frantic efforts to throw himself into the sea. Mr. Lisle -departed in his own little skiff, accompanied by Dr. Malone and the -brown dog, and the remainder of the company re-embarked and rowed back -to Ross in unwonted silence; there was no more singing, and even Mrs. -Creery was unusually piano. Nip, the immediate cause of the search -and the strife, and who had appeared in quite a casual manner at the -last moment, now sat in his mistress's lap, the picture of dignified -satisfaction—undoubtedly <em>he</em> considered himself the hero of the hour.</p> - -<hr class="r15" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XIV">CHAPTER XIV.<br /><br /> -<span class="small">"MR. LISLE HAS GIVEN ME A RING."</span></h2> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container40"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="blockquot"> -<div class="verse">"Vouchsafe to wear this ring."</div> - </div> - </div> - </div> -</div> -<div class="sig-left60"><span style="margin-left: 1em;"><cite>Richard III.</cite></span></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">For</span> several days after this startling occurrence, Miss Denis did not - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 111]</span> - -appear in public. She would gladly have denied herself to all visitors -save Mrs. Home; but who could shut out Mrs. Creery? She penetrated -to Helen's room, and from thence issued daily bulletins to the whole -station in this style,—</p> - -<p>"The girl was knocked up; her nerves were unstrung. She was in a very -weak state. She required rousing!"</p> - -<p>Miss Caggett also forced her way in, and imparted to her friends and -acquaintances "that, from what she saw of the invalid, it would never -surprise <em>her</em> to hear that there was insanity in the Denis family, and -SHE would not be astonished if she was going off her head!"</p> - -<p>This affair had given Mrs. Creery something fresh to talk about, and -she related the whole story at least thrice separately to every one -in Ross, and as often as she had the opportunity to the people from -the out-stations. On each occasion she added a little touch here, and -detail there, till by the end of a week it was as thrilling a narrative -as any one would wish to hear. Mrs. Creery flattered herself that she -told a story uncommonly well; so also said public opinion—but then -their reading of the word <em>story</em> was not exactly the same as hers. She -had brought herself to believe that she had been the only person on -the wreck who had evinced any presence of mind, and it would take very -little to persuade her that she herself had been in personal conflict -with Aboo—Aboo who had been duly hanged at Viper on the succeeding -Monday morning! She now commenced all conversations with,—</p> - -<p>"Of course you have heard of my terrible adventure on the wreck? and -the marvellous escape we all had?" and then, before she could be -interrupted, the rehearsal was in full swing. This intrepid, loquacious -lady entirely ignored Mr. Lisle, of whom Dr. Malone reported that -he was nearly convalescent, the cuts from Aboo's knife were healing -rapidly, and that he was going about as usual at Aberdeen.</p> - -<p>Mr. Lisle was among Helen's first visitors; and he came alone. He wore -his arm in a sling—this gave him quite an interesting aspect,—and -carried a small parcel in his hand. He was struck, as he entered the -drawing-room, with Miss Denis's altered appearance; her face was thin - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 112]</span> - -and white, and her eyes had a startled, sunken look. They shook hands -in silence, and for quite a moment neither of them spoke. At last he -said,—</p> - -<p>"I hope you are all right again?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, thank you. And your arm?"</p> - -<p>"Is well; this sling is only Malone's humbug. I have heard of you daily -from him—our mutual medical attendant, you know—and would have been -over before, only he said you saw no one. I have brought you this."</p> - -<p>"What is it? Oh, my sketch!"</p> - -<p>"Yes, I fetched it from the wreck. I thought you might not like to lose -it."</p> - -<p>"Oh, I don't care! I had forgotten it. But how <em>could</em> you go back to -that horrible place?" and she shuddered visibly.</p> - -<p>"Why not?"</p> - -<p>She did not answer this question, but said in a rather husky voice,—</p> - -<p>"Mr. Lisle, you remember what you said to papa. That was absurd. Only -for you I would not be sitting here now. No," raising her hand with a -deprecatory gesture as she saw that he was about to speak, "if you had -not come that time, I know in another moment I would have been dead."</p> - -<p>"Was it so bad as all that? Well, but Miss Denis, that I should drag -that fellow off was a matter of course—that's understood. Do you think -any man would stand by and see that brute throttle a girl before his -face? But that you should interfere in my behalf was quite a different -affair—you know that. My life hung on a thread—I believe I was within -ten seconds of eternity. If you had not made that dash when you did, I -should have been a dead man. I owe my life to your courage."</p> - -<p>"Courage! Oh, if you only knew how little I deserve the word! You would -not believe what a miserable coward I am. I actually tremble in the -dark; I dread to open a door—much less to look round a corner; in -every shadow I seem to see <em>Aboo's face</em>. I never, never could have -believed that in so short a time I should have sunk to such an abject -condition."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 113]</span></p> - -<p>"You will get over it all right. It is the reaction. You will soon -forget it all," he answered reassuringly.</p> - -<p>"I wish I could—all but your share in it. I shall never forget that!"</p> - -<p>"Miss Denis," he answered gravely, "I am not good at making speeches, -like—" he was going to add Quentin, but substituted—"other people; -but whatever I say, I mean. I shall always remember that you stood by -me at a great crisis, just as a man might have done. If you were a man, -I would ask you to be my friend for life—and I am not a fellow of many -friends—but as it is—" and he hesitated.</p> - -<p>"But as it is," she was the only girl he had ever cared two straws -about, and she was in love with James Quentin.</p> - -<p>As it was, she repeated, surprised at this sudden pause, "I shall be -very glad to be your friend all the same." Then, with a sudden pang of -apprehension lest she had been over-bold, she blushed crimson, and came -to a full stop.</p> - -<p>"Agreed, Miss Denis. If you ever want a friend—I speak in the fullest -sense of the word—remember our bargain, and that you have one in me."</p> - -<p>The conversation had become so extremely personal that Helen was glad -to change it rather abruptly by saying,—</p> - -<p>"I have something here belonging to you," opening her work-basket as -she spoke, and carefully unfolding from some tissue-paper the ring from -the wreck.</p> - -<p>He received it from her in silence, turned it over several times in the -palm of his hand, and seemed to waver about something. At last he said -with an evident effort,—</p> - -<p>"Would you think me very presumptuous if I asked you to keep it?"</p> - -<p>The young lady looked at him with startled eyes and vivid colour.</p> - -<p>What did he mean?</p> - -<p>Observing her bewilderment, he added quickly,—</p> - -<p>"Only as a memento of last Thursday—not to recall the whole hateful -business, but just to remind you," and he stammered—"of—a friend."</p> - -<p>"I should like to have it, thank you; and I shall always keep it," she - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 114]</span> - -replied, "and value it very much. Papa!" to her father, who had just -entered the room, "look here—Mr. Lisle has given me a ring!"</p> - -<p>Colonel Denis started visibly, and was not unnaturally a good deal -amazed at this somewhat suggestive announcement. He liked Lisle far -better than Quentin. Despite of the latter's fascinating manners to -most, he scarcely noticed Colonel Denis during his constant visits; he -considered him a slow old buffer, left him to walk behind, elbowed him -out of the conversations, and altogether folded him up, and put him by. -Helen's parent was an easy-going gentleman, but he had his feelings, -and he did not care for Apollo, and he liked his pauper-friend Lisle; -nevertheless he was not prepared to give him Helen—indeed, he had -never dreamt of him as being one of her cloud of admirers, and he -looked very blank indeed to hear his daughter say, "Mr. Lisle has given -me a ring!" and saying it with such supreme <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">sang-froid</i>, as if it were -a matter of course!</p> - -<p>Mr. Lisle read his host's face like a book, and saw that, for once in -his life, he was quite capable of uttering the word "No."</p> - -<p>"It is only a queer old ring that I found on the wreck," he hastened -to explain. "It fell out from behind the wainscoting in the cabin, -and your daughter was looking at it, and in the subsequent confusion -carried it away. She wished to restore it to me now, but I have been -asking her to do me the honour of keeping it, as——"</p> - -<p>"Certainly, certainly," interrupted the elder gentleman, greatly -relieved; "and so she shall, so she shall."</p> - -<p>"It just fits me, papa," she said, slipping it on her third finger, and -holding it up for approval.</p> - -<p>The two men gazed at it in silence, and made no verbal remark, but the -same thought occurred to both—assuredly that strange old ring had -never graced a prettier hand!</p> - -<p>When Mr. Lisle had taken his departure, Colonel Denis said to his -daughter, as he picked up the <em>Pioneer</em>,—</p> - -<p>"I like that fellow—uncommonly; there is no nonsense about <em>him</em>."</p> - -<p>"So you should, papa, if you put any value on me."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 115]</span></p> - -<p>"That is a thing apart, my dear. But I had always a fancy for Lisle, -for he reminds me of a very old friend of mine, who was killed in the -Mutiny. His name was not Lisle, but Redmond; but, all the same, the -likeness is something extraordinary, especially about the eyes—and -Lisle has his very laugh!"</p> - -<p>"Which you do not often hear," remarked his daughter. "I'm sure Mr. -Lisle is a gentleman by birth,—no matter what Mrs. Creery says."</p> - -<p>"What does she say?"</p> - -<p>"That she is sure his mother was a Portuguese half-caste from -Chittagong."</p> - -<p>"She be blessed!" angrily. "Lisle may have empty pockets, but he has -good blood in his veins."</p> - -<p>"Mrs. Creery also says she notices——"</p> - -<p>"She notices everything! If any one has a button off their glove, she -proclaims it on the house-top," rattling his paper irritably.</p> - -<p>"I declare, papa!" pausing in the act of rubbing up the ring with her -handkerchief, "What do you think is in this ring?"</p> - -<p>"A finger, of course," without lifting his head.</p> - -<p>"No, you dear, silly old gentleman, but a motto, and I believe I can -make it out. Listen to this."</p> - -<p>Colonel Denis looked over his paper, now all attention.</p> - -<p>"It is rather faint, but," holding it close to her eye, "the first is a -big L. Love—me—Love me—and leave—"</p> - -<p>"Love me and leave!" cried her father. "A pretty motto, truly! I could -do better than that myself!"</p> - -<p>"Wait, here's another word. Now I have it; here it is, 'Love me and -leave me not.'"</p> - -<p>"Show it!" holding out his hand. "It's one of those old posy rings. -Yes, there is a motto, but it was not intended for you, my young -lady——"</p> - -<p>"Of course not, papa," colouring. "Mr. Lisle did not even see it." (We -would not be so sure of that.)</p> - -<p>"I could not make out what you meant, Nell, when you told me so -suddenly that he had given you a ring—I declare, I fancied for a -second that—that—but of course it was utter nonsense,—and, of all -people, LISLE!"</p> - -<hr class="r15" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 116]</span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XV">CHAPTER XV.<br /><br /> -<span class="small">"WHY NOT?"</span></h2> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container28"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="blockquot"> -<div class="verse">"Friendship is constant in all things, save in the office and affairs of love."</div> - </div> - </div> - </div> -</div> -<div class="sig-left60"><span style="margin-left: 1em;"><cite>Shakespeare.</cite></span></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Things</span> went on much as usual after this at Port Blair; there were no -more tragedies, nothing startling to record, and people had quietly -settled themselves down to wonder if Lizzie Caggett would catch Dr. -Malone, and when the Quentin and Denis engagement would be given out?</p> - -<p>There had been the ordinary settlement amusements, including a grand -picnic to Mount Harriet (the last place Lord Mayo visited before he -was stabbed on the pier below). Mount Harriet was a very high hill, -covered with trees and dense jungle, and on the top of it was situated -the general's country bungalow. He did not often live there himself, -but it was in constant demand by people who "wanted a change," also -for honeymoons and picnics. From the summit of the hill, there was a -magnificent view of inland winding water, islands, mountains, and sea; -but this view was only to be obtained by a steady two-mile climb from -the pier, and an elephant, Jampanees (men carrying chairs), and two -ponies, awaited the picnic party.</p> - -<p>The elephant at Mount Harriet was a character; he was fifty years of -age, and his name was "Chootie;" once upon a time he had got tired of -drawing timber, and slaving for the Indian Government, and had coolly -taken a holiday and gone off into the bush, where he had remained -for three whole years. However, here he was, caught and once more in -harness, waiting very discontentedly at the foot of the hill, with a -structure on his back resembling an Irish jarvey, minus wheels, which -was destined to carry six passengers.</p> - -<p>Helen and Lizzie Caggett, with happy Dr. Malone between them, went on -one side; Mrs. Creery, Mr. Quentin and Mrs. Home on the other, and -presently they started off at quite a brisk pace; but the day was hot, -the hill-road was rugged, and "Chootie" paused, like a human being, - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 117]</span> - -and seemed to express a wish to contemplate the landscape. His mahout -expostulated in the strongest language (Hindustani). "What did he -want?—water? Then he was not going to get water—pig that he was!" -Nevertheless he exhausted his vocabulary in vain. Vainly did he revile -Chootie's ancestors in libellous terms; Chootie remained inflexible, -until two policemen armed with very stout sticks arrived, and whacked -him with might and main, and once more he started off again, and -kept up a promising walk for nearly half a mile; and now the praises -lavished on him by his doating driver were even sweeter than new honey, -but alas! he was praised too soon. Without the slightest warning, he -suddenly plunged off the road down a place as steep as the side of, not -a house—but a church; deaf to Mrs. Creery's screams and the mahout's -imprecations! He had happened to notice a banana tree—he was extremely -partial to bananas!—and he made his way up to it, tore off all the -branches within his reach, and devoured them with as much deliberation -and satisfaction, as if there were not seven furious, frightened, -howling, screaming human beings seated on his back. He flatly refused -to stir until he chose! The policemen were not within sight, and he -seemed to be tossing a halfpenny in his own mind, as to whether he -would go for a ramble through the jungle or return to the path of duty -which led to Mount Harriet and his afternoon rice. The afternoon rice -had it, and he accordingly strolled back, nearly tearing his load off -the howdah as he passed under big branches—but that he evidently -considered was entirely their affair—and then climbed in a leisurely -manner up the steep bank he had recently descended, and resumed the -public road,—merely stopping now and then, to snatch some tempting -morsel, or to turn round and round in a very disagreeable fashion. The -fact was he was not accustomed to society, nor to carrying a load of -pleasure-seekers, and he did not like it. Dragging timber and conveying -stores was far more to his taste, and, besides this, Mrs. Creery's -squeals, and her lively green umbrella, annoyed him excessively; he had -taken a special dislike to her;—Chootie was not an amiable elephant, - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 118]</span> - -and would have thoroughly enjoyed tossing the lady with his trunk—and -stamping on her subsequently. At last the party found themselves in -front of the Mount Harriet bungalow, to their great relief and delight, -and scrambled down a ladder, for of course, their late conveyance would -not condescend to kneel. Mrs. Creery, once safe on <i xml:lang="la" lang="la">terra firma</i>, -was both bold and furious; and, standing on the steps, harangued the -mahout in Hindustani on the enormity of the elephant's behaviour. -She called him all the epithets she could immediately bring to mind, -said she would complain to the General, and have him shipped to the -Nicobars—that he was an ugly, unruly, untamed brute!</p> - -<p>Naturally the elephant understood every word of this! (Hindustani is -to them, as it were, their native language.) He calmly waited till -the irate lady had said her say and furled (oh, foolish dame!) her -umbrella; and then he slowly turned his trunk in her direction like a -hose; there was a "whish," and instantly she and her elegant costume -were drenched from head to foot in dirty water. What a spectacle -she was! What a scene ensued! Vainly she fled; the wetting was an -accomplished fact; it had been very sudden, and disastrously complete. -Dr. Malone actually lay down and rolled in the grass, like the rude -uncivilized Irish savage that he was; Miss Caggett was absolutely -hysterical, and screamed like a peacock. Helen and Mrs. Home, with -difficulty restraining themselves, endeavoured to ameliorate the -condition of the unhappy lady. They escorted her inside the bungalow, -helped her to remove her gown, gloves, and hat; she was for once in -her life actually too angry to <em>speak</em>—she wept. Her dress had to -be dispatched to the cook-house to be washed and dried, and she, of -course, was in consequence prevented from taking the head of the -table, and had to have her meal sent out to her in the retirement of -the bedroom, where she discussed it <em>alone</em>. And the worst of it was, -that she met with but little real sympathy. When she reappeared once -more in public, she was met with wreathed smiles and broad grins. -Such is friendship! The company wandered about the hill after dinner, -and Helen, thinking to checkmate James Quentin for once, offered her - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 119]</span> - -society to Dr. Parkes, who was only too pleased to accompany her—as -long as she did not go too far, and there was no climbing. To punish -Miss Denis for her want of taste, Apollo once more devoted himself to -Lizzie,—being under the foolish impression that, in so doing, he was -searing Helen's very soul. It was soon tea-time; there was no moon, -for a wonder; people had to depend on the stars and the fire-flies, -and Mrs. Creery,—who had had a most disagreeable day,—gave the -signal for an early departure. They all descended by a long, steep, -winding pathway through the jungle, instead of by the more public -road, as their boats were awaiting them at Hopetown pier; Mrs. Creery -led the van, in a jampan carried by four coolies—and, indeed, all -the ladies preferred this hum-drum mode of transport to trusting -themselves again to "Chootie," who was the bearer of some half-dozen -adventurous spirits, whom he took right through the jungle, thereby -reducing their garments to rags, and covering their faces with quite -a pretty pattern of scratches! Mr. Quentin travelled per jampan, but -Mr. Lisle walked, and considered that he had much the best of it; so -he had—for he walked at Helen Denis' right hand, and they both found -this by far the most delightful part of the day!—whether this was -due to the surrounding influences, or to each other's society, I will -leave an open question. About a dozen ticket-of-leave men accompanied -the procession with flaring lights, as it wound down and down the -rugged pathway through the forest, and gave the whole scene a fantastic -and picturesque appearance. It was a lovely night, though moonless; -millions of silent stars spangled the heavens, millions of fire-flies -twinkled in the jungle. Helen never forgot that balmy tropical evening, -with the glow of torches illuminating the dark, luxuriant underwood, -the scent of the flowers, and the faint sound of the sea.</p> - -<p>Mr. Lisle realized as he descended that steep hill-path, that he was -deeply in for it at last, and in love with this Helen Denis, helplessly -in love—hopelessly in love—for he might not speak, nor ever "tell his -love;" he could only play the part of confidant to James Quentin, and, - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 120]</span> - -perchance, the thankless <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">rôle</i> of best man!</p> - -<p>Little did he guess that the young lady at his side was not wholly -indifferent to him; that her blushes, when he appeared with Jim, were -to be put down to his own, not to his companion's credit; that his mere -presence had the curious effect of abstracting the interest from every -one else, as far as she was concerned—though, to be candid, she never -admitted this tell-tale fact to herself. A gleam of the truth, a ray -of rapture, came to Gilbert Lisle by the flash of one of those flaming -torches,—was it imaginary? or was it not? She smiled on him, as, he -believed, a girl only smiles on a man she cares for—and yet Jim was -absent—Jim was yards behind, a leaden burden to his lagging bearers.</p> - -<p>A wild, ecstatic idea flashed through his mind, that she might—might -not care for Quentin, after all! But this notion was speedily -extinguished by his friend, who had noticed Lisle in attendance on -Miss Denis on the way down the hill,—noticed that they stood a little -apart on the pier before embarking, and neither "liked nor loved the -thing he saw!" Lisle the invulnerable was proof no longer. Lisle was a -good-looking fellow, despite his shabby clothes and sunburnt skin. Yes, -he had somewhat overlooked that fact. But Lisle was not a ladies' man, -and he was a man of honour, and Mr. Quentin fully determined to give -him to understand that he must not trespass on <em>his</em> preserves. Miss -Denis belonged exclusively to him. And now let us privately examine Mr. -Quentin's mind. Briefly stated, he did not "mean anything," in other -words, he did not wish to marry her now—<em>that</em> fevered dream was past. -He was not an atom in love with her either; she was too irresponsive, -and, in fact, too—as he expressed it to himself—"stupid." Between -ourselves, if any wandering damsel had appeared upon the scene, he was -ready to whistle Miss Denis down the wind at once! But damsels were -rare at Ross—and he still admired her greatly; he did not mean to -"drop" her, till he went away, and he intended to take precious good -care that no one should have it in their power to say that <em>she</em> had - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 121]</span> - -dropped him—much less, abandoned him for another. His character as a -lady-killer was at stake; he could not, and would not, lose what was as -precious to him as the very breath of his nostrils.</p> - -<p>He accordingly took an early opportunity of giving Lisle what he called -"a bit of a hint."</p> - -<p>"I saw you making yourself very agreeable to the fair Helen yesterday," -he remarked with affected <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">bonhomie</i>. "You mustn't make yourself too -agreeable, you know!"</p> - -<p>"Why not?" demanded his companion with exasperating composure.</p> - -<p>"Why, not? My dear fellow, the idea of your asking <em>me</em> such a -question! You know very well why not."</p> - -<p>"Am I to understand that she is engaged to you?"</p> - -<p>Mr. Quentin hated these direct questions, and why should Lisle look at -him as if he were a witness that he was examining on his oath?</p> - -<p>"What is it to you?" he returned evasively. "Come now, Lisle," leaning -on his elbow, and smiling into the other's face with one of his most -insinuating expressions.</p> - -<p>"Answer my question first," roughly.</p> - -<p>"Well, I will."</p> - -<p>Word fencing was easy to him, and he never thought it any harm to -dissemble with a woman, and juggle his sentences so that one almost -neutralized another; <em>they</em> were fair game, but a man was different. -With men he could be frank enough—firstly, because he had more respect -for his own sex; and secondly, because their eyes were not likely to be -blinded by love, admiration, or vanity. Meanwhile, here was Lisle, an -obstinate, downright fellow, sternly waiting for his reply. An answer -he must have, so he made a bold plunge, and said, with lowered eyelids -and in a confidential voice,—</p> - -<p>"What I tell you is strictly masonic, mind—but I know you are to be -depended on. There is no actual engagement as yet between Helen and -me—but there is an understanding!"</p> - -<p>"I confess, the distinction is too subtle for me. Pray explain it!"</p> - -<p>"How can I go to her father whilst my money affairs are in such a - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 122]</span> - -confounded muddle? Until I can do that, we cannot be what you call -engaged. Do you see?"</p> - -<p>"I see. But there is one thing I fail to see—that Miss Denis treats -you differently to any one else, or as if she were attached to you—in -fact, latterly, it has struck me that she rather avoids you than -otherwise!"</p> - -<p>This was a facer, but his companion was equal to the occasion. "That is -easily explained," he replied. "She is the very shyest girl that you -ever saw—in public."</p> - -<p>Mr. Quentin thoroughly understood the art of innuendo, and the -management of the various inflections of the human voice. He was a -matchless amateur "star," and could "act" off, as well as on the stage.</p> - -<p>After receiving this confidence, Mr. Lisle was silent; he leant back in -his chair, and nearly bit his cigar in two. That last speech of Jim's -had made him feel what the Americans call "<em>real</em> bad." A very long gap -in the conversation ensued, and then he, as it were, roused himself -once more,—</p> - -<p>"Then she <em>is</em> engaged to you!"</p> - -<p>"No, not quite, not altogether—but our position is such, that no man -of honour, knowing it, would take advantage of the situation,—would -he?"</p> - -<p>"No—of course not."</p> - -<p>And with this admission the subject dropped.</p> - -<p>Mr. Quentin had succeeded brilliantly. He had assured Lisle that he -was not engaged; and yet he had impressed him with the fact that an -engagement existed—indeed, he had almost persuaded <em>himself</em>, that -there was an understanding between him and Helen! "Understanding" was -a good, useful, elastic word; it might mean an understanding to play -tennis, to sit next each other at an afternoon tea, or to share the -same umbrella!</p> - -<p>"No, no, Mr. Gilbert Lisle," he said to himself exultantly, as he -watched the other's gloomy face, "I'm not just going to let you cut me -out—not if I <em>know</em> it. 'Paws off, Pompey.'"</p> - -<hr class="r15" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XVI">CHAPTER XVI.<br /><br /> -<span class="small">"STOLEN FROM THE SEA!"</span></h2> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container39"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="blockquot"> -<div class="verse first-line">"Love, whose month is ever May,</div> -<div class="verse">Spied a blossom passing fair."</div> - </div> - </div> - </div> -</div> -<div class="sig-left60"><span style="margin-left: 1em;"><cite>Much Ado About Nothing.</cite></span></div> - -<p>"<span class="smcap">Another</span> fine, sunshiny day," is naturally of common recurrence in -the East, and it was yet another magnificent afternoon at Ross—very -bright, very warm, and very still. Underneath the long wooden pier -vast shoals of little silver sardines were hurrying through the water, -pursued by a greedy dolphin, and leaping now and then in a glittering -shower into the air to escape his voracious jaws. Coal-black, stunted -Andamanese were here and there squatting on the rocks, patiently -angling with the most primitive of tackle, and two or three policemen, -in roomy blue tunics and portentous turbans, were gossiping together -about rupees and rice. Some half-dozen soldiers, with open coats and -pipe in mouth, sat, with their legs dangling over the pier, fishing. -Further on, with folded arms, and wistful eyes, a tall gaunt Bengalee -stood, aloof and alone. He was a zemindar from Oude, and had been in -the settlement since 1858 (an ominous date); now he was the holder -of a ticket, was free to open a shop in the bazaar, and make a rapid -fortune; free to accept a plot of the most fertile ground on the -face of the globe, free to marry a convict woman, free within the -settlement, but there his liberty ended. His body is imprisoned, but -who can chain the mind? His is far away beyond those dim, blue islands, -and the shining "Kala Panee!" In imagination he now stands, not upon -Ross pier, but on wide-stretching plains far north; his horizon is -bounded by magnificent forest trees, and topes of fragrant mangoes: -once more he sees his native village, and the familiar well, his plot -of land, his home; just as he saw it twenty years ago. But too well -does he remember every inmate of those small, white-washed hovels; -their faces are before him now—for, alas! what has been left to <em>him</em> - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 124]</span> - -but memory? Bitterly has he expiated those few frenzied weeks, when -for a brief space, he and his neighbours felt that they had broken the -accursed yoke, and trampled it beneath their feet—bitterer, ten times, -is it to know that he was sold and betrayed by his own familiar friend!</p> - -<p>At this maddening recollection, a kind of convulsive spasm contracts -his features, and he mutters fiercely in his beard. He would -gladly—nay, gratefully—give all that remains to him of life, just to -have "Ram Sing" at his mercy for one short moment—ay, but one! These -are some of the thoughts that flit through his mind, as he stands apart -with folded arms, and his dark, hawk-like countenance immovably bent -on the sea, deaf to the hoarse, loud laughter of Tommy Atkins, who -has had a good "take"—to the screeching home-bound peacocks, and the -discordant yells of the Andamanese at play.</p> - -<p>They have no tragic memories, this group of young men coming down the -pier in tennis garb; or, if they have, their faces much belie them—Mr. -Quentin, Captain Rodney, Mr. Reid, and Dr. Malone (whose smooth, fair -skin, and sandy hair disavow his thirty summers).</p> - -<p>"I told you so!" he exclaimed, as he hitched himself up on the edge of -the pier. "They are all gone out, every man Jack of them—the Creerys, -the Homes, Dr. Parkes, and Mr. Latimer, not to speak of our two young -ladies. They have gone down to Chatham to take tea with Mrs. Graham, -and the island is a desert!"</p> - -<p>"Fancy going three miles by water for a cup of hot water," said Mr. -Quentin derisively; "but women will go <em>anywhere</em> for tea. Where are -Jones and Lea?" he inquired.</p> - -<p>"Where you ought to be, my boy: up decorating the mess for the dance -this evening."</p> - -<p>"Oh!" rather grandly, "I sent my butler over, and lots of flowers."</p> - -<p>"If we were all to do that, I wonder 'what like it would be,' as they -say in your native land, Reid?" remarked Dr. Malone. "And where is -Green?"</p> - -<p>"Out fishing with Lisle," replied Captain Rodney. "And, ahem! talk of - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 125]</span> - -angels, here they come," as at this moment a sailing-boat suddenly shot -round a point and made for the pier.</p> - -<p>"I've not seen Lisle for weeks!" remarked Dr. Malone; "not since the -picnic on Mount Harriet. What has he been up to?"—to Mr. Quentin.</p> - -<p>"Oh! he only enjoys society by fits and starts, and a little of it goes -a long way with him."</p> - -<p>"Hullo, you fellows!" hailed the doctor, leaning half his long body -over the railings, "any luck?"</p> - -<p>"Luck? I should just think so!" returned Lisle, standing up. "Two -bottle-nosed sharks, a conger-eel, a sword-fish, and any quantity of -sea-monsters, name and tribe unknown."</p> - -<p>"Is that all?"</p> - -<p>"No, not all. Green caught about a dozen crabs going out."</p> - -<p>"Oh! now I say," expostulated Mr. Green, a fair young subaltern about -six months from Sandhurst, "it was those beastly oars."</p> - -<p>"There was an animal like a sea-cow that nearly towed us over to -Burmah," said Mr. Lisle, as he came up the steps, "and finally went off -with all the tackle."</p> - -<p>"The sea serpent, of course!" ejaculated Dr. Malone. "And, by-the-way, -how is it that we have not seen you for a month of Sundays, eh? Coming -to the ball to-night?"</p> - -<p>"Ball! what ball? How can there be one without ladies?"</p> - -<p>"Nonsense, man alive! what are you talking about? Haven't we -seventeen?" putting his hat under his arm and commencing to count on -his fingers. "There is Mrs. King, Mrs. Graham, Mrs. Manners—the widow -from Viper—Mrs. Creery——"</p> - -<p>"Mrs. Creery! You may as well say Mrs. Caggett while you are about it."</p> - -<p>"I may <em>not</em>. Mrs. Creery is a grand woman to dance, and you will see -her and your humble servant taking the floor in style before you are -many hours older! If all the ladies put in an appearance, and do their -duty, we shall have an A1 dance. Of course you are coming?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 126]</span></p> - -<p>"No," put in Mr. Quentin, rather quickly. "How could you ask him? -Does he look like a dancing man? Here are the fish coming up. What -whoppers!" turning towards the steps.</p> - -<p>"And here comes something else!" exclaimed the doctor, pointing to -a white sail approaching the island. "It's easy to see what <em>you</em> -have come down for, my boy!" to Apollo, who smiled significantly, and -accepted the soft impeachment without demur.</p> - -<p>"Quentin is a lucky fellow, isn't he?" said Mr. Green, addressing -himself to Mr. Lisle with all the enthusiasm of ignorance. "He has had -it all his own way from the first; none of us were in it! And although -our circle of ladies <em>is</em> small, I'll venture to say we could show a -beauty against Madras or Rangoon; yes, and I'll throw in Calcutta, too! -I'll back 'La Belle Hélène' against anything they like to enter, for -pace, shape and looks!"</p> - -<p>Here Mr. Lisle turned upon his heel and walked away.</p> - -<p>"What's up? What's the matter, eh?" demanded the youth of Mr. Quentin, -who was now gazing abstractedly at the approaching boat, with a -cigarette between his teeth.</p> - -<p>"Oh, he did not approve of your conversation; he does not think ladies -should be talked about, and all that sort of rubbish."</p> - -<p>"Pooh; why not?—and was I not praising her up to the skies? What more -could I have said? And I'm sure if you don't mind, <em>he</em> need not!"</p> - -<p>"No, but he did," remarked Dr. Malone. "He looked capable just now of -tossing you out as a sort of light supper to the sharks, my little C. -Green!"</p> - -<p>"And a very light meal it would be," said Mr. Green with a broad grin. -"Nothing but clothes and bones. Here comes Miss Caggett and a whole lot -of people, and won't she just walk into <em>us</em> for not decorating the -mess!"</p> - -<p>At this instant Miss Caggett and some half-dozen satellites appeared -in view, and behind her, walking with Dr. Parkes, came a lady we have -never seen before, Mrs. Durand, who had only that morning returned to -the settlement.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 127]</span></p> - -<p>"Well," cried the sprightly Lizzie, surveying the guilty group with -great dignity, "I call this <em>pretty</em> behaviour! What a lazy, selfish, -good-for-nothing set!" beginning piano, and ending crescendo.</p> - -<p>Dr. Malone nodded his head like a mandarin at each of these adjectives, -and declared,—</p> - -<p>"So they <em>are</em>, Miss Caggett, so they are. I quite agree with you."</p> - -<p>The young lady merely darted a scornful glance in his direction, and -proceeded,—</p> - -<p>"Mr. Quentin, well, I've given you up long ago. Mr. Green, I cannot -say much to <em>you</em>, when grown-up people set you such an example" (a -back-handed slap at Mr. C. Green's tender years). "Mr. Lisle, you here? -and pray what have you got to say for yourself? What is your excuse?"</p> - -<p>"My excuse," coming forward and doffing his hat, "is, that I have no -more idea of decorating a room than one of the settlement elephants—in -fact, my genius is of a destructive, rather than of a constructive -order. But I am always prepared to appreciate other people's handiwork."</p> - -<p>"Well, you <em>are</em> cool," staring at him for a second in scornful silence.</p> - -<p>"Now, Dr. Malone," pointing at him with her parasol, "let us hear what -you have got to say for yourself."</p> - -<p>Dr. Malone rested his chin on the top of his tennis-bat, and calmly -contemplated his fair questioner in a somewhat dreamy fashion, and then -was understood to say,—</p> - -<p>"That as long as Miss Caggett was in a ball-room, any other decoration -was quite superfluous!"</p> - -<p>To which Miss Caggett responded by rapping him on the knuckles with the -handle of her sunshade, and saying,—</p> - -<p>"Blarney!"</p> - -<p>Meanwhile Mrs. Durand had joined the group, and now received a very -warm welcome. It was easy to see that she was a popular person at Port -Blair. She was upwards of thirty, with a full but very erect figure, -smiling dark eyes, good features, and white teeth, the upper row of -which she showed very much as she talked. She wore a hat with a dark -blue veil, a pretty cambric dress, and carried a red parasol over her - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 128]</span> - -arm (a grand landmark, that same parasol, for Mrs. Creery).</p> - -<p>"Great events never happen alone!" quoth Dr. Malone, bowing over his -bat. "Here, in one day, we have the mail in, the full moon, the ball, -and Mrs. Durand! It is quite needless to inquire after Mrs. Durand's -health?"</p> - -<p>Mr. Quentin moved forward to accost the lady, his large person having -hitherto entirely concealed his friend, and as he moved, Mrs. Durand's -eyes fell upon Gilbert Lisle. She opened them very wide, shut them, and -opened them once more, and said in a slow, staccato voice,—</p> - -<p>"I believe I am not dreaming, and that I see Mr. Lisle. Mr. Lisle," -holding out a plump and eager hand, "what on <em>earth</em> brings <em>you</em> here?"</p> - -<p>Precisely what every one wanted to know.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Durand had a habit of laying great stress on some of her words, -and she uttered the word earth with extraordinary emphasis.</p> - -<p>Her acquaintance, upon whom all eyes were now riveted, smiled, shook -hands, muttered incoherently, and contrived, by some skilful manœuvre, -to draw the lady from the centre of the crowd.</p> - -<p>"I never was so amazed in my life!" she reiterated. "What put it into -your head to come here, of all places?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, I wanted to see something out of the common, and to enlarge my -ideas."</p> - -<p>"Indeed, I did not know that they required extension! One could -understand our being here—we are sent, like the convicts; but -outsiders—and, of all people, you!"</p> - -<p>"There is first-class fishing to be had, and boating, and all that sort -of thing; and the scenery is perfect," he answered.</p> - -<p>"Granted—and pray how long have you been at Port Blair?"</p> - -<p>"I came in July," he replied, rather apologetically.</p> - -<p>"July!" she echoed, "and this is November!—<em>five</em> months! And may I -ask what is the attraction, besides sailing and sharks?"</p> - -<p>"The unconventional life, the temporary escape from politics and post - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 129]</span> - -cards, express trains, telegrams, and the bores of one's acquaintance."</p> - -<p>"Well, every one to their taste, of course! You like Port Blair, give -<em>me</em> park Lane. As to politics, we have our politics here. Have you not -discovered that we are an absolute monarchy?"</p> - -<p>"Yes," smiling; "but, alas! I am not in favour at court."</p> - -<p>"No? neither am I. I'm in the Opposition. I'm one of the reds," -laughing, and displaying all her teeth. "Here are all these people -coming back, and I must go; I have a great deal to do at home. -Remember, that I shall expect to see you very often—<i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">sans cérémonie</i>. -Oh, I suppose that tall girl is Miss Denis? Charlie says she is -uncommonly pretty, and not spoiled <em>yet</em>. By the way," pausing, and -looking at him significantly, "I wonder if you have been losing your -heart, as well as enlarging your ideas?"</p> - -<p>"Do I ever lose my heart?" he asked. "Am I an inflammable person?"</p> - -<p>"No, indeed—quite the reverse; warranted not to ignite, I should say," -shaking her head. "And now I really must be going, or Mrs. Creery will -catch me, and cross-examine me. Of course, we shall meet this evening?" -Mr. Lisle walked with her to the end of the pier, bending towards her, -and apparently speaking with unusual earnestness, as Miss Caggett -remarked. At the gate, he and the lady parted, he taking off his hat, -she waving her hand towards him twice, as if to enforce some special -injunction.</p> - -<p>The gig was now alongside the steps, and its late passengers had -ascended to the pier. Miss Denis was the last to leave the boat, and -was at once surrounded by Mr. Quentin, Dr. Malone, Captain Rodney, and -Mr. Green, a faithless quartette, who all quitted Miss Caggett in a -body.</p> - -<p>"Well, Miss Denis," said Mr. Green, "I am glad to see that you have -not forgotten the button-hole I asked you to bring me," pointing to a -flower in the front of her dress.</p> - -<p>"Oh, this!" taking it out and twirling it carelessly in her fingers. -"I certainly did not gather it for your adornment, but still, if you -like," half tendering it; but becoming conscious of Mr. Quentin's -greedy, outstretched hand, she paused.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 130]</span></p> - -<p>"You surely would not?" he began pathetically.</p> - -<p>"No, I would <em>not</em>, certainly not. I will give it to the sea," and -suiting the action to the word, she tossed it over the railings into -the water.</p> - -<p>"Oh, Miss Denis," exclaimed Mr. Green with a groan, "how could you -trifle with my feelings in such a manner? How could you raise me to a -pinnacle of happiness, and cast me down to the depths of despair? Have -you no conscience?"</p> - -<p>"It would have been a precedent," she answered gaily. "I know you only -too well—you would have demanded a bouquet every time I returned to -the island."</p> - -<p>Here, for the first time, her eyes fell upon Mr. Lisle, who had now -joined the outer circle—Mr. Lisle, whom she had not seen for six -weeks. She coloured with astonishment, and accorded him rather a stiff -little bow. He did not come forward, but contented himself with merely -raising his hat, and remaining in the background.</p> - -<p>Helen had once rather timidly asked after him, from Mr. Quentin (it -seemed so strange, that he had never been over to Ross, since the day -of the picnic, when they had made that never-to-be-forgotten expedition -down the mountain, escorted by torches and fire-flies).</p> - -<p>To Miss Denis's somewhat faltering question, Mr. Quentin had brusquely -replied "that Lisle had on one of his sulky fits, and the chances were, -he would not come over to Ross again—he was an odd, unsociable, surly -sort of beggar!"</p> - -<p>Apparently he had now recovered from the sulks; for there he stood, -looking as sunburnt, as shabby, and as self-possessed as ever!</p> - -<p>"We had a pleasant sail," remarked Mrs. Creery, "but I could not go in -at Chatham on account of Nip! Mrs. Graham makes such a fuss about that -hideous puppy of hers—and, after all, it's only Nip's play! Of course, -I could not leave the poor darling in the boat by himself, so we had -our tea sent out to us, and were very happy all the same," hugging him -as she spoke with sudden rapture.</p> - -<p>But Nip (whose <em>play</em> was death to other dogs) stiffened his spine, -and threw back his head; he evidently considered public endearments - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 131]</span> - -inconsistent with personal dignity. He weighed fully twenty-four -pounds, and why Mrs. Creery carried an animal who had the excellent use -of his four legs, was best known to herself.</p> - -<p>As she proceeded up the pier, with his head hanging over her shoulder, -he surveyed Dr. Malone and Lisle, who walked behind him, with -unconcealed contempt.</p> - -<p>"What a fool she makes of herself about that beast!" muttered the -former. "He despises <em>us</em> for not being carried too. I see it in his -eye! Brute! I'd like to vivisect him."</p> - -<p>"Only imagine!" exclaimed Miss Caggett suddenly, "Miss Denis has never -been to a dance in her life!—and," giggling affectedly, "never danced -with any but <em>girls</em>."</p> - -<p>"And remember," said Jim Quentin, impressively turning and speaking to -Helen in a tender undertone (for the benefit of his friend), "that you -have given <em>me</em> the promise of the first waltz."</p> - -<p>The party had now reached a little square, from whence their various -paths diverged.</p> - -<p>"You wait for me on the pier like a good fellow," he said to his -companion. "I am just going to walk home with Miss Denis."</p> - -<p>Every one now departed in different directions, excepting Mrs. Creery, -who remained behind at the cross-roads, for a moment, and waving her -green umbrella, called after them authoritatively,—</p> - -<p>"Now mind that none of you are <em>late</em> this evening!—especially you -men!"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Mr. Lisle went slowly back to the pier; it was almost deserted now. -Tommy Atkins had adjourned to his well-earned supper, the jailer to his -rice, the Andamanese to unknown horrors. The zemindar is alone—alone -he stands, and sees what is to him another wasted sun sink into the sea -like a ball of crimson fire! Apparently he is unconscious of a figure, -who comes and leans over the railings, with his eyes fixed abstractedly -on the sea, till with a sudden flash they become riveted on something, -scarcely deserving such eager inspection—merely a floating flower! - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 132]</span> - -As Gilbert Lisle gazed, he was the prey of sore temptation. Surely, he -argued with himself, there would be no harm in picking up a castaway -lily, even Quentin would hardly grudge him that, and <em>he</em> might as -well have it as the sea! Then he turned half away, as if thrusting the -impulse from him (the convict now noticed him for the first time); but -the flower was potent, and drew him back; he leant his arms on the -railings, and stared at it steadily. The zemindar watched him narrowly -out of his long, black eyes. The Sahib was debating some important -question in his own mind! he looked at his watch, he glanced nervously -up and down the pier, apparently his companion was as nought. Then -he hurried to the foot of the steps and unmoored a punt, and rowed -out several lengths, in quest of <em>what</em>? A white flower that the tall -English girl had thrown away.</p> - -<p>The native followed his quest with scornful interest. He has it -now;—no, it has evaded him, and still floats on. Ah, he has reached -it this time, he has lifted it out of the water, as reverently as if -it were one of the sacred hairs of Buddha! He has dried it; he has -concealed it in his coat!</p> - -<p>Bah! the Feringhee is a fool!</p> - -<hr class="r15" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XVII">CHAPTER XVII.<br /><br /> -<span class="small">THE BALL.</span></h2> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container38"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="blockquot"> -<div class="verse">"There was a sound of revelry by night."</div> - </div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Night</span> had fallen, and the full moon to which Dr. Malone had alluded -was sailing overhead, and flooding Ross with a light that was almost -fierce in its intensity; the island seemed to be set in a silver sea, -over which various heavily laden boats were rowing from the mainland, -conveying company to the ball! Jampans bearing ladies were to be seen -going up towards the mess-house in single file, the guests kept - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 133]</span> - -pouring in, and, despite the paucity of the fair sex, made a goodly -show! We notice Mrs. Creery (as who would not?) in a crimson satin, -with low body, short sleeves, and a black velvet coronet on her head. -Helen Denis in white muslin, with natural flowers; she had been -forbidden by the former lady to even so much as <em>think</em> of her white -silk, but had, nevertheless, cast many yearnings in that direction. -All the same, she looks as well as her best friends could wish, and -a certain nervousness and anticipation gives unwonted brilliancy to -her colour (indeed Miss Caggett has already whispered "paint!"), and -unusual brightness to her eyes.</p> - -<p>The world seems a very good place to her this evening. She is little -more than eighteen, and it is her first dance; if she has an <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">arrière -pensée</i>, it has to do with Mr. Lisle, who after being so—well, shall -we say "interesting?" and behaving so heroically, has calmly subsided -into his normal state, viz. obscurity. What is the reason of it? Why -will he not even speak to her? Little does she guess at the real motive -of his absence. As little as that, during his long daily excursions by -land and sea, a face, <em>hers</em>, forms a constant background to all his -thoughts—try and forget it as he will.</p> - -<p>The mess-room looked like a fairy bower, with festoons of trailing -creepers and orchids twined along the walls, with big palms and -ferns, in lavish profusion, in every available nook. It was lit up by -dozens of wall-lamps, the floor was as smooth as glass, and all the -most comfortable chairs in Ross were disposed about the ante-room and -verandahs.</p> - -<p>The five-and-forty men were struggling into their gloves, and hanging -round the door, as is their usual behaviour, preliminary to a dance; -and the seventeen ladies were scattered about, as though resolved to -make as much show as possible. Mrs. Creery occupied a conspicuous -position; she stood exactly in the middle of the ball-room, holding -converse with the General, who bowed his head acquiescently from time -to time, but was never so mad as to try and get in a word edgeways. -"Nip" was seated on a sofa, alert and wide awake, plainly looking -upon the whole affair as tomfoolery and nonsense; but he had been to -previous entertainments, and knew that there was such a thing as - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 134]</span> - -<em>supper</em>!</p> - -<p>Near the door, stood Miss Caggett, the centre of a noisy circle, -dangling her programme, and almost drowning the bass and tenor voices -by which she was encompassed, with her shrill treble, and shrieks of -discordant laughter at Dr. Malone's muttered witticisms. Her dress -was pink tarletan, made with very full skirts, and it fitted her neat -little figure to perfection. Altogether, Miss Caggett was looking her -best, and was serenely confident of herself, and severely critical of -others.</p> - -<p>Every one had now arrived, save Mr. Quentin, but he thoroughly -understood the importance of a tardy and solitary <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">entrée</i>. At last -his tall figure loomed in the doorway, and he lounged in, with an air -of supreme nonchalance, just as the preliminary bars of the opening -Lancers were being played.</p> - -<p>He was not alone, to every one's amazement he was supplemented by Mr. -Lisle—Mr. Lisle in evening dress! There had been grave doubts as to -his possessing that garb; and his absence from one or two dinners, had -been leniently attributed to this deficiency in his wardrobe! People -who looked once at James Quentin, looked twice at Gilbert Lisle; -they could hardly credit the evidence of their senses. Mr. Lisle -in unimpeachable clothes, with a matchless tie, a wide expanse of -shirt-front, and skin-fitting gloves, was a totally different person -to the individual they were accustomed to see, in a rusty old coat, -a flannel shirt, and disreputable wide-awake! How much depends on a -man's tailor! Here was the loafer, transformed into a handsome (if -rather bronzed), distinguished-looking gentleman. He received the fire -of many eyes with the utmost equanimity, as he leant lazily against -the wall, like his neighbours. Miss Caggett, having breathed the words -"Borrowed plumes," and giggled at her own wit, presently beckoned him -to approach, and said pertly,—</p> - -<p>"This is, indeed, an unexpected pleasure. I thought you said you were -not coming, Mr. Lisle?"</p> - -<p>"Did I?" pausing before her. "Very likely; but, unfortunately, I am the -victim of constitutional vacillation."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</span></p> - -<p>"In plain English, you often change your mind?"</p> - -<p>"<em>Never</em> about Miss Caggett," bowing deeply, and presently retiring to -the doorway.</p> - -<p>Lookers-on chuckled, and considered that "Lizzie," as they called her -among themselves, had got the worst of <em>that</em>! Mrs. Creery, who had -been gazing at this late arrival with haughty amazement, now no longer -able to restrain herself, advanced upon him, as if marching to slow -music, and said,—</p> - -<p>"I've just had a letter about <em>you</em>, Mr. Lisle."</p> - -<p>Mr. Lisle coloured—that is to say, his tan became of a still deeper -shade of brown, and his dark eyes, as they met hers, had an anxious, -uneasy expression.</p> - -<p>"Oh, yes!" triumphantly, "I know <em>all</em> about you, and who you are, and -I shall certainly make it my business to inform every one, and——"</p> - -<p>"Do not for goodness' sake, Mrs. Creery!" he interrupted eagerly. "Do -me the greatest of favours, and keep what you know to yourself."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Creery reared back her diademed head, like a cobra about to -strike, and was on the point of making some withering reply, when the -General accosted her with his elbow crooked in her direction, and said, -"I believe this is our dance," and thus with a nod to her companion, -implying that she had by no means done with him, she was led away to -open the ball.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile Helen had overheard Mrs. Graham whisper across her to Mrs. -Home,—</p> - -<p>"What do you think? When Mrs. Creery came back from us, she found her -letters at home, and she has heard something <em>dreadful</em> about Mr. -Lisle!"</p> - -<p>Helen was conscious of a thrill of dismay as she listened. She was so -perplexed, and so preoccupied, that she scarcely knew what she was -saying, when Mr. Quentin came and led her away to dance. During the -Lancers she was visibly <em>distrait</em>, and her attention was wandering -from the figures and her partner, but she was soon brought to her -senses by Mr. Quentin saying rather abruptly,—</p> - -<p>"I've just heard a most awful piece of news!"—her heart bounded. "Only -fancy their sending <em>me</em> to the Nicobars!"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 136]</span></p> - -<p>Helen breathed more freely as she stammered out,—</p> - -<p>"The Nicobars?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, the order came this evening by the <i>Scotia</i>—sharp work—and I -sail in her for Camorta to-morrow at cock-crow."</p> - -<p>"And must you go really?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, of course I must. Isn't it hard lines? Some bother about the new -barracks. The Nicobars are a ghastly hole, a poisonous place. I shall -be away two months—that is, if I ever come <em>back</em>," he added in a -lachrymose voice.</p> - -<p>"And what about Mr. Lisle?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, he is such a beggar for seeing new regions—he is coming too."</p> - -<p>"I'm sorry you are going to the Nicobars, they have such a bad name for -fever and malaria."</p> - -<p>"I believe you! I hear the malaria there rises like pea-soup!"</p> - -<p>"Mr. Lisle is foolish to go; you should not let him."</p> - -<p>"Oh! he may as well be there as here! He is as hard as nails, and it -would be deadly for me without a companion. He promised to come, and I -shan't let him off, though I must confess, what he <em>says</em>, he sticks -to."</p> - -<p>Miss Denis thought Mr. Quentin's arrangement savoured of abominable -selfishness, and between this news, and the sword of Damocles that -was swinging over Mr. Lisle's head, her brain was busy. Dancing went -on merrily, but she did not enjoy herself nearly as much as she -anticipated. After all, this apple of delight, her first ball, had -turned to dust and ashes in her mouth. And why?</p> - -<p>Mr. Lisle leant against a doorway, and looked on very gravely: -doubtless he knew the fate that was in store for him. He remained -at his post for the best part of an hour, and had any one taken the -trouble to watch him, they would have noticed that his eyes followed -Helen and Jim Quentin more closely than any other couple. As they -stopped beside him once, she said,—</p> - -<p>"I did not know that you were coming to-night, Mr. Lisle."</p> - -<p>"Neither did I, till quite late in the afternoon. I suppose there is - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 137]</span> - -not the slightest use in my asking for a dance?"</p> - -<p>Now if the young lady had been an experienced campaigner, and had -wished to dance with the gentleman (which she did), she would have -artlessly replied,—</p> - -<p>"Oh, yes! I think I can give you number so and so," mentally throwing -over some less popular partner; but Helen looked straight into his face -with grave, truthful eyes, displayed a crowded programme, and shook her -head.</p> - -<p>Jim Quentin, who was evidently impatient at this delay, placed his arm -round his partner's waist, and danced her away to the melting strains -of the old "Kate Kearney" waltz.</p> - -<p>None gave themselves more thoroughly up to the pleasures of the moment, -or with more <em>abandon</em> than Dr. Malone and Mrs. Creery. They floated -round and round, and to and fro, with cork-like buoyancy, for Mrs. -Creery, though elderly and stout, was light of foot, and a capital -dancer; and her partner whirled her hither and thither like a big red -feather! Every one danced, and the seventeen revolving couples made -quite a respectable appearance in the narrow room. And what a sight -to behold the twenty-eight partnerless men, languishing in doorways, -and clamouring for halves and quarters of dances! Men who, from the -wicked perversity of their nature, were they as one man to ten girls, -would certainly decline to dance at <em>all</em>! Mr. Lisle had abandoned his -station at last, and waltzed repeatedly with Mrs. Durand; they seemed -to know each other intimately, and were by far the best waltzers in the -room. There was a finish and ease about their performance that spoke of -balls in the Great Babylon, and though others might pause for breath, -and pant, and puff, these two, like the brook, seemed to "go on for -ever!"</p> - -<p>They also put a very liberal interpretation upon the term "sitting -out!" They walked up the hill in the moonlight, and surveyed the -view—undoubtedly other dancers did the same—but not <em>always</em> with -the same companion; to be brief, people were beginning to talk of the -"marked" attention that Mr. Lisle was paying Mrs. Durand—attentions - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 138]</span> - -not lost on Helen, who noticed them, as it were, against her will, -and tried to keep down a storm of angry thoughts in her heart by -asking herself, as she paced the verandah with Dr. Parkes, and dropped -haphazard sentences, "Was it possible that she was jealous, bitterly -jealous, because Mr. Lisle spoke to another woman?—Mr. Lisle, who -avoided her; Mr. Lisle, who had a history; Mr. Lisle, who was going -away?"</p> - -<p>She held her head rather higher than usual, pressed her lips very -firmly together, and told herself, "No, she had not <em>yet</em> fallen quite -so low. Mr. Lisle and his friends were nothing to her."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Supper was served early. Mrs. Creery was the hostess, and we know that -she had "Nip" in her mind, when she suggested that at twelve o'clock -they should adjourn for refreshment, and sailed in at the head of the -procession on the General's arm. "Nip," who had been the first to enter -the supper-room, sat close to his doating mistress, devouring tit-bits -of cold roast peacock, and <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">pâté de foie gras</i>, with evident relish; -<em>this</em> was a part of the entertainment that he could comprehend. His -mistress was also pleased with the refection, and condescended to pass -a handsome encomium upon the mess-cook, and priced several of the -dishes set before her (with an eye to future entertainments of her -own). She was in capital spirits, and imparted to Dr. Malone, who sat -upon her left, that she had never seen a better ball in Ross in all her -experience; also, amongst many other remarks, that Miss Caggett's dress -was like a dancer's.</p> - -<p>"But is not that as it ought to be?" he inquired, with assumed -innocence.</p> - -<p>"I mean a columbine!" she replied sternly; "and her face is an inch -deep in powder—she is a <em>show</em>! As to Helen Denis——"</p> - -<p>"Yes, Mrs. Creery. As to Miss Denis?"</p> - -<p>"I'm greatly disappointed in her. She is no candle-light beauty, after -all."</p> - -<p>"Ah, well, maybe she will come to <em>that</em> by-and-by. So long as she can - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 139]</span> - -stand the daylight, there is hope for her—eh?"</p> - -<p>Mrs. Creery told Dr. Malone that "she believed he was in love with the -girl, or he would not talk such nonsense!" and finally wound up the -conversation by darkly insinuating something terrible about Mr. Lisle, -adding that he had craved for her forbearance, and implored her to hold -her tongue!</p> - -<p>"But I won't," she concluded, rising as she spoke, and dusting the -crumbs off her ample lap. "It is my <em>duty</em> to expose him! We don't want -any wolves in sheep's clothing prowling about the settlement," and with -a nod weighty with warning, she moved away in the direction of the -ball-room.</p> - -<p>Miss Caggett had torn her dress badly—her columbine skirts—and -Helen was not sorry to be called aside to render assistance. She was -unutterably weary of Mr. Quentin and his monotonous compliments. His -manner of protecting, and appropriating her, as if she belonged to him, -and they had some secret bond of union, was simply maddening! As she -tacked up Lizzie's rents, in a corner of the ante-room, Lizzie said -suddenly,—</p> - -<p>"I suppose you have heard all the fuss about Mr. Lisle? Mrs. Creery is -bubbling over with the news. Don't pretend <em>I</em> told you, but she has -heard all about him at last; very <em>much</em> at last," giggling.</p> - -<p>"Yes?" interrogated her companion.</p> - -<p>"He was in the army—I always suspected that; he looked as if he had -been drilled. He was turned out, cashiered for something disgraceful -about racing; and as to his flirtations, we can imagine <em>them</em>, from -the way he is behaving himself to-night! He has danced every dance with -Mrs. Durand, though I will say this, she asked him; and, of course, it -was because <em>she</em> came back, that he changed his mind about the ball."</p> - -<p>"Now your dress will do, I think," said Helen, rising from her knees -with rather a choking sensation in her throat.</p> - -<p>"Oh, thanks awfully, you dear girl!" pirouetting as she spoke. "I'll -do as much for you another time; there's a dance beginning, and I must -go!" and she hurried off.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 140]</span></p> - -<p>In the doorway Helen came face to face with Mr. Lisle, who was -apparently searching for some one—for her!</p> - -<p>She held up her chin, and, with one cool glance, was about to pass by, -when he said, rather eagerly,—</p> - -<p>"Miss Denis, I was looking for you. Malone has been sent for to -barracks, and he said that I might ask you to give me his dance—the -next—the last."</p> - -<p>Helen fully intended to decline the pleasure, but something in Mr. -Lisle's face compelled her to say "<em>Yes</em>," and without a word more, -she placed her hand upon his arm; they walked into the ball-room, and -immediately commenced to waltz; this waltz was "Soldate Lieder." Her -present partner was very superior to Jim Quentin, and she found that -she could go on much longer with him without stopping, keeping up one -even, delightful pace; but at last she was obliged to lean against the -wall—completely out of breath. Her eyes, as she did so, followed Mrs. -Durand enviously, and she exclaimed,—</p> - -<p>"I wish I could dance like her." Now, had she breathed this aspiration -to Mr. Quentin or Dr. Malone, they would have assured her that her -dancing was already perfection, but Mr. Lisle frankly replied,—</p> - -<p>"Oh, all you want is practice; you must remember that she has been at -it for years. We used to dance together at children's parties,—I won't -say <em>how</em> long ago."</p> - -<p>"I know I dance badly," said Helen, colouring; "but the reason of that -is that, although I danced a great deal at school, it was always as -gentleman, because I was tall."</p> - -<p>"Ah! I see," and he laughed. "Now I understand why you were so bent on -steering me about just now. Well, you are not likely to dance gentleman -again, I fancy. There!" regretfully, "it's over; shall we go outside?"</p> - -<p>Helen nodded her head, and accordingly they went down the steps arm in -arm. She meant to seize this opportunity of giving him a hint of the -mine on which he was standing,—one word of warning with regard to Mrs. -Creery. She had accepted his friendship, and surely this would be the -act of a friend.</p> - -<p>Mr. Quentin—sitting in the dusky shades of a secluded corner, -whispering to Lizzie Caggett—saw the pair descending from the - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 141]</span> - -ball-room, pass down the steps, and out into the moonlight, and looked -after them with an expression of annoyance that was quite a revelation -to his sprightly companion.</p> - -<hr class="r15" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XVIII">CHAPTER XVIII.<br /><br /> -<span class="small">"BUT WHAT WILL PAPA SAY?"</span></h2> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container38"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="blockquot"> -<div class="verse first-line">"Joy so seldom weaves a chain</div> -<div class="verse">Like this to-night, that, oh! 'tis pain</div> -<div class="verse indent8">To break its links so soon."</div> - </div> - </div> - </div> -</div> -<div class="sig-left60"><span style="margin-left: 1em;"><cite>Moore.</cite></span></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Helen</span> and her partner ascended the steep gravel pathway, lined with -palms, gold mohur, and orange-trees, and turning a sharp corner, came -suddenly upon a full view of the sea, with the moon on her bosom. It -was a soft, still, tropical night; not a sound broke the silence, save -a distant murmur of human voices, or the dip of an oar in the water.</p> - -<p>That moon overhead seldom looked down upon fairer scene, or a more -well-favoured couple, than the pair who were now leaning over the -rustic railings, and gazing at the prospect beneath them—or rather, -the man was looking at the girl, and the girl was looking at the sea. -Doubtless moon-shine idealizes the human form, just as it casts a -glamour over the landscape; but at the present moment Helen appears -almost as beautiful as her world-renowned namesake. Her lovely eyes -have a fathomless, far-away expression, her pure, clear-cut profile -is thrown into admirable relief by the glossy dark leaves of a -neighbouring orange-tree. In her simple muslin dress, with its soft -lace ruffles, and a row of pearls round her throat, she seemed the -very type of a modest English maiden (no painted columbine this!), -and, perhaps, a little out of place amid her Eastern surroundings. She -continued to gaze straight before her, with her hands crossed on the -top of the railing, and her eyes fixed on the sea. As she gazed, a -boat shot out of the dim shadows, and across the white moonlit track, - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 142]</span> - -then passed into obscurity again.</p> - -<p>"Thinking as usual, Miss Denis?" said her companion.</p> - -<p>"Yes," she answered rather reluctantly, "thinking of something that I -must say to <em>you</em>, and wondering how I am to say it."</p> - -<p>"Is it much worse than last time?" he inquired with a smile (but there -was an inflection of eagerness in his voice).</p> - -<p>"Oh! quite different."</p> - -<p>"Ah, she is going to announce that she is engaged to Quentin," he said -to himself with a sharp twinge.</p> - -<p>"Do you find it so very hard to tell me?" he inquired in a studiously -indifferent tone.</p> - -<p>"Yes, very hard; but I must. I owe you much, Mr. Lisle—and—I am -your—friend—I wish to warn you." Suddenly sinking her voice to a -whisper, she added,—"Mrs. Creery has had a letter about YOU!"</p> - -<p>"Containing any startling revelations, any bad news?"</p> - -<p>"Yes," she returned faintly. "Bad news. Oh, Mr. Lisle,—I am so sorry!"</p> - -<p>"Is the news too terrible to be repeated?" he asked with marked -deliberation.</p> - -<p>Helen fidgeted with her fan, picked a bit of bark off the railing in -front of her, and, after a long silence, and without raising her eyes, -she said,—</p> - -<p>"Must I tell you?"</p> - -<p>"If you please," rather stiffly.</p> - -<p>"She—she—hears that you have been in the army."</p> - -<p>"Yes, so I was—I was not aware that it was criminal to hold her -Majesty's commission; but, of course, Mrs. Creery knows best."</p> - -<p>"She says you were—were obliged to—to leave disgraced," continued his -companion in a rapid, broken whisper.</p> - -<p>"Cashiered, you mean, of course!"</p> - -<p>"Yes," glancing at him nervously. To her amazement, he was smiling.</p> - -<p>"Do you believe this, Miss Denis?" he asked, raising himself suddenly -from a leaning posture and looking at her steadily.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 143]</span></p> - -<p>"No," she faltered. "I think not. No," more audibly, "I do not," -blushing deeply as she spoke.</p> - -<p>"Why?" he asked rather anxiously.</p> - -<p>"I cannot give you any reason," she stammered, somewhat abashed by the -steadfastness of his gaze, "except a woman's reason, that it is so——"</p> - -<p>"I am sincerely grateful to you, Miss Denis; your confidence is not -misplaced.—I am <em>not</em> the man in question. Mrs. Creery has got hold of -the wrong end of the stick for once. I know of whom she is thinking," -his face darkened as he spoke, "a namesake and, I am ashamed to say, a -relation of mine. It is extremely good-natured of the old lady, to make -me the subject of her correspondence." Then in quite another tone he -said, "I suppose you have heard of our start to-morrow?"</p> - -<p>"Yes," she replied, scarcely above a whisper.</p> - -<p>"I'm a regular bird of passage, and ought to have been away weeks ago; -and you yourself will probably be on the wing before long." (He was -thinking of her marriage with Jim Quentin, but how could she know that?)</p> - -<p>"Oh, not for a year at any rate! Papa does not expect that we shall be -moved before then," she answered quite composedly. "I am sorry you are -going to the Nicobars—I mean, you and Mr. Quentin," hastily correcting -herself. "It's a horribly unhealthy place—soldiers and convicts die -there by dozens from—fever," her lip quivered a little as she spoke.</p> - -<p>"Not quite so bad as you think," returned her companion, moving his -elbow an inch closer to her. "I'm an old traveller, you know,—and I -will look after him for you."</p> - -<p>"Look after who?" she asked in amazement.</p> - -<p>"Why, Quentin, to be sure. I know all about it. I," lowering his voice, -"am in the <em>secret</em>."</p> - -<p>"Mr. Lisle, will you kindly tell me at once what you mean?"</p> - -<p>"Certainly, Miss Denis. I mean that Quentin is the happiest of men."</p> - -<p>"I am extremely pleased to hear it, but why?" she interrogated firmly.</p> - -<p>"What is the use of fencing with me in this way?" he exclaimed with a - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 144]</span> - -gesture of impatience. "You may trust me.—I know all about it. Quentin -has told me himself, that he is engaged to you."</p> - -<p>"Engaged to <em>me</em>!" she echoed with glowing eyes. "Mr. Lisle, you are -joking."</p> - -<p>"Do I look as if I was joking?" he demanded rather bitterly.</p> - -<p>"It is not the case. It is the first that I have heard of it," -exclaimed the young lady in a voice trembling with agitation and -indignation. "How dared he say so?"</p> - -<p>Mr. Lisle felt bewildered; a rapturous possibility made his brain reel. -Yet who was he to believe? Quentin had been very positive; he had never -known him to utter a deliberate lie. And here, on the other hand, stood -this girl, saying "No;" and if ever the truth was traced upon proud, -indignant lips, it was written on hers.</p> - -<p>"Do you believe me, Mr. Lisle?" she asked impatiently.</p> - -<p>For fully a moment he did not speak; and was it the moonlight, or some -sudden emotion, that made him look so white?</p> - -<p>"I do believe you, of course," he answered in a low voice. "And now," -he continued in the same low tone, urged to speak by an irresistible -impulse, "perhaps you can guess <em>why</em> i have stayed away? How, from a -sense of mistaken loyalty, my lips have been locked?"</p> - -<p>Her eyes, which up to this, had been fixed intently on his, now sank. -Suddenly a suspicion of the truth now dawned upon her mind, and she -turned aside her face.</p> - -<p>"Miss Denis," he said, "I see you have guessed my secret—I love you."</p> - -<p>These three magic words were almost inaudible; barely louder than the -orange leaves which whispered in the scented air. Nevertheless a busy -little zephyr caught them up, carried them away, and murmured them to -the sleepy flowers and the drowsy waves, that washed the invulnerable -rocks beneath them.</p> - -<p>Helen made no reply. This was the first love-tale to which she had ever -listened, and those three syllables stirred every fibre of her heart.</p> - -<p>"Do you remember that time on the wreck," he continued, "when you told - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 145]</span> - -me that I was leading a lazy, useless life, and that I ought to go back -to the outer world? You little guessed that it was you, yourself, who -were keeping me a prisoner here!"</p> - -<p>Still the young lady said nothing, but kept her face steadily turned -towards the sea.</p> - -<p>He waited a moment, as if expecting some reply, but none came. At last -he said, in quite a different tone,—</p> - -<p>"I see how it is.—I have been a presumptuous idiot! And, after all, I -had no right to expect that you would care a straw about me. I am years -older than you are; I am—"</p> - -<p>"Mr. Lisle," she interrupted, turning towards him at last, and speaking -with apparent effort, "you are quite wrong.—I—I——" she stopped, and -a little half-frightened smile played round her mouth, as she added, -almost under her breath, "But what will papa say?"</p> - -<p>"Then <em>you</em> mean to say 'Yes'!" he exclaimed, coming nearer to her, and -grasping the railing firmly in his hand, to conceal how it shook.</p> - -<p>Again she made no reply, but this time Mr. Lisle undoubtedly took -silence for consent.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Creery and Dr. Parkes were standing on the very summit of the -hill, overlooking everything and everybody, and the former had not -failed to notice a couple at some distance below them, leaning over the -rails, and contemplating the sea, a tall girl in white, Helen Denis, -of course; and who was the man? It looked like Captain Durand. There, -Captain Durand had just bent over her, and kissed her hand! Pretty -doings, certainly, for a married man.</p> - -<p>"There!" she exclaimed, suddenly nudging Dr. Parkes, "did you see -<em>that</em>?"</p> - -<p>"See what, my dear madam?"</p> - -<p>"That man down there with Helen Denis. I believe it's Captain Durand; -he has just kissed her hand. Oh! WAIT till I see his wife!"</p> - -<p>"Pooh!" returned her companion contemptuously, "the moonlight must have -deceived you, it was his own hand; he was stroking his moustache."</p> - -<p>"Oh, well, I'm not so sure of that!—but I suppose I must take your -word for it, doctor."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 146]</span></p> - -<p>Meanwhile, to return to Mr. Lisle, who <em>had</em> kissed Helen's hand. (Mrs. -Creery's eyes seldom deceived her.) "Won't you say something to me, -Helen?" he pleaded anxiously.</p> - -<p>"Yes," turning round and drawing her fingers away, "I will.—I -say—don't go to the Nicobars."</p> - -<p>"But I must; I have promised Quentin and Hall, and I cannot break my -word. I would gladly give half I possess to get out of it; but I little -guessed this afternoon, when Quentin asked me to go and I said 'Yes,' -that I would so soon have such very strong reasons for saying '<em>No</em>.'"</p> - -<p>"I wish they would let you off; I have a presentiment about the -Nicobars."</p> - -<p>"Presentiment of what?"</p> - -<p>"I cannot say, but of something bad. Do <em>you</em> believe in -presentiments?" looking at him wistfully.</p> - -<p>"No, and yet I should not say so! That night of the storm, when you -ran down the pier steps and called me back, your voice and your face -haunted me afterwards for days. I had a kind of conviction that I had -met my fate, and so I <em>had</em>, you see! By the way, I wonder why you like -me, Helen? or what you see in me?"</p> - -<p>The young lady smiled, but said nothing.</p> - -<p>"All the world can understand my caring for you, but I am, in one way, -an utter stranger; you could not answer a single question about me, -if you were asked! As far as appearances go, I am an idler, a mere -time-killer, without friends, station, or money."</p> - -<p>"If you are idle you will have to amend your ways——"</p> - -<p>"And work for you as well as myself," he interrupted with a laugh.</p> - -<p>"As to friends, I would say you could share mine, but then I have so -few. Still——"</p> - -<p>"Still, for better or worse you will be Mrs. Gilbert Lisle?"</p> - -<p>"Yes—some day," faltered the young lady.</p> - -<p>"I know I am not half as fascinating, nor a quarter as good-looking as -Quentin; honestly, what do you see in me, Helen?"</p> - -<p>"Do you expect me to pander to your conceit, and to make you pretty - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 147]</span> - -speeches?" she asked with rather a saucy smile.</p> - -<p>"Indeed I do not; all the pretty speeches, of course, should come from -<em>me</em>. I only want to hear the truth," he returned, looking at her with -his steady dark eyes.</p> - -<p>"Well, then, since you must know, and you seem generally to have your -own way, I will try and tell you. Somehow, from the first—yes, the -very <em>first</em>—I was sure that you were a person that I could trust; and -ever since that time on the wreck——" she paused.</p> - -<p>"Yes," he repeated, "ever since that time on the wreck?—go on, Helen."</p> - -<p>"I have felt that—that—I would not be afraid to go through anything -with you, to—to spend my life with you. <em>There!</em>" becoming crimson, -she added, "I know I have said too much, <em>far</em> too much," clasping her -hands together nervously.</p> - -<p>A look more eloquent than words illumined Lisle's face.</p> - -<p>"And you would give yourself to me in this blind confidence? Helen, I -little dreamt when I came down here rather aimlessly, that in these -unknown islands, I should find such a pearl beyond price. You cannot -understand what it is to me, to feel that I am valued for myself, -simply as Gilbert Lisle, poor, obscure, and—" he paused, his voice -sounded rather husky, and then he went on, "I must see your father -to-night. But how? I left him at billiards. I wonder what he will say -to me?"</p> - -<p>"Perhaps, perhaps," began Helen rather nervously, "<em>I</em> had better speak -to him first. I know he likes you but——"</p> - -<p>"Yes, there would seem to be a very considerable <em>but</em>," smiling -significantly. "Nevertheless, I hope he will listen to me. No, Helen, I -would rather talk to him myself."</p> - -<p>"At any rate, you will not ask me to leave him for ages,—not for a -long time?"</p> - -<p>"What do you call a long time?"</p> - -<p>"Two or three years; he will be so lonely."</p> - -<p>"Two or three years!—and pray what is to become of me?"</p> - -<p>"Have you no relations?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 148]</span></p> - -<p>"Yes, some. Chiefly a father, who is pining for the day when I shall -introduce him to a daughter-in-law."</p> - -<p>"Now you are joking, surely," looking at him with a bewildered face. "I -have heard of mothers being anxious to get their daughters married—but -a father his sons, never!"</p> - -<p>"Ah," repressing a smile, "well, you see, you live and learn."</p> - -<p>"And what is your father like?"</p> - -<p>"He is old, of course; he has white hair and a red face, and is short -in stature and in temper."</p> - -<p>"You do not speak of him very respectfully."</p> - -<p>"You are always hauling me up, Helen. First I am lazy, now I am -unfilial."</p> - -<p>"I beg your pardon. I forget, I am too ready to say the first thing -that comes into my head."</p> - -<p>"Never mind begging my pardon. I like to be lectured by <em>you</em>," taking -her hand in his.</p> - -<p>"Do not—supposing Mrs. Creery were to see you?" trying to withdraw -hers,—and vainly.</p> - -<p>"What if she did?" he returned boldly; "it is my own property."</p> - -<p>Thus silenced, Helen submitted to have her arm drawn within her -lover's, and her hand clasped tightly in his.</p> - -<p>"Where does your father live, and what does he do, and like?" she asked -presently.</p> - -<p>"He lives in London. What does he do? Nothing particular. What does he -like? He likes a rubber of whist, he likes politics, he likes his own -way. He is certain to like <em>you</em>."</p> - -<p>"Oh, I always get on well with old gentlemen," she rejoined with some -complacency.</p> - -<p>Her companion looked at her with an odd twinkle in his eye, and said,—</p> - -<p>"As, for instance?"</p> - -<p>"As, for instance, the General, Colonel Home, Dr. Parkes."</p> - -<p>"And you call <em>them</em> old gentlemen! Why, they are men in the prime of -life! Perhaps you consider me an old gentleman also!"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 149]</span></p> - -<p>"Nonsense," she returned with a smile. "Now tell me something about -your mother."</p> - -<p>"Ah! my mother," he answered with a sudden change in his expression. -"My mother died five years ago."</p> - -<p>"I am sorry," began Helen.</p> - -<p>"And <em>I</em> am sorry, that she did not live to know you. She was the most -beautiful woman I ever saw—and the best."</p> - -<p>"You were better off than I was. I do not remember my mother; she was -lovely, too," returned Helen, jealous for a certain painted miniature -that was the most precious of her treasures.</p> - -<p>Mr. Lisle looked at Helen thoughtfully. His mind suddenly travelled -back to the night that she had landed on Ross—and a certain scathing -sketch of the late Mrs. Denis. Of course this child beside him was -totally ignorant of her mother's foibles. "The prettiest woman in -India" had, at any rate, bequeathed her face to her daughter. Yes, he -noted the low brow, straight nose, short upper lip, and rounded chin. -But what if Helen had also inherited the disposition of the false, -fair, unscrupulous Greek?</p> - -<p>That was impossible; he was bitterly ashamed of the thought, and -mentally hurled it from him with scorn. His lady-love was rather -surprised at his long silence. Of what was he thinking?</p> - -<p>"It is a well-known fact," he said at length, "that the value people -place upon themselves is largely discounted by the world; but when I -came down here, merely to see what the place was like, and to shoot and -fish, I never guessed that I should be taken for counterfeit coin by -the head of the society for the propagation of scandal."</p> - -<p>"Meaning Mrs. Creery," said Helen with a smile.</p> - -<p>"Yes. Because I declined to unbosom myself to her, and tell her where I -came from, where I was going, what was my age, my religion, etc., etc., -she made up her mind that I was a kind of social outcast, and was not -to be tolerated in decent company. This, as you may have remarked, sat -very lightly on my mind; I did not come here for society, but it amused -me to see how Mrs. Creery set me down as a loafer and a pauper. It does -not always follow that, because a fellow wears a shabby coat, his - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 150]</span> - -pockets must be empty. I am not a poor man; far from it. Do you think, -if I were, I would have the effrontery to go to your father, and say, -'Here I am. I have no profession, no prospects, no money. Hand me over -your treasure, your only child, and let us see if what is not enough -for one to live on will suffice for two?' Were a man to come to <em>me</em> -with such a suggestion, I should hand him over to the police."</p> - -<p>Helen looked at him in awe-struck astonishment.</p> - -<p>"Then you are rich,—and no one guesses it here!"</p> - -<p>"Oh, the General knows all about me; so does Quentin; so shall <em>you</em>! -How I wish," he exclaimed with sudden vehemence, "that these miserable -Nicobars had never been discovered! Six weeks will seem a century, -especially in the company of Quentin. I shall be obliged to have it out -with Master James," he added, with a rather stern curve of his lips. "I -had thought that lying was an obsolete vice! Only that Hall is going, -and is entirely depending on me as a kind of buffer between him and -Quentin,—whom he detests,—I would not consider my promise binding. I -never knowingly associate with——" he stopped short, and apparently -finished the sentence to himself. "Anyway, it will seem years till I -come back!"</p> - -<p>"And you <em>will</em> come back?" she said, looking at him with a strangely -wistful face.</p> - -<p>For a moment he returned her gaze in reproachful amazement. Then, -stretching his hand out towards the east, replied,—</p> - -<p>"As sure as the sun will rise there to-morrow, so surely will I return. -What have I said or done that you should doubt me now—you who have -trusted me so generously?"</p> - -<p>"I cannot tell. I have a strange feeling that I cannot get out of my -head; and yet I'm sure you would laugh were you to hear it, Mr. Lisle."</p> - -<p>"Gilbert," he corrected.</p> - -<p>"Yes, Gilbert," she repeated softly.</p> - -<p>"I must tell you, Helen, what I have more than once been tempted to -confide to you. I am not what I seem. I——"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 151]</span></p> - -<p>"It was <em>not</em> captain Durand, after all," interrupted a harsh female -voice close by, and at this critical moment Mrs. Creery and Dr. Parkes -came swooping down from the hill-top.</p> - -<p>"Helen and Mr. Lisle! Well, I declare! Pray do you know that every one -is going home? What can you have been thinking of? The band played 'God -save the Queen' half an hour ago."</p> - -<p>Mr. Lisle drew himself up to his full height (which was five feet ten), -and looked as if he wished the good lady—say, at Jericho; and Helen -fumbled with her fan, and murmured some incoherent excuse. They both -hung back, evidently expecting and hoping that the elder couple would -lead the way down the hill; but, alas! for their expectations, Mrs. -Creery suddenly put out a plump hand and drew Helen's reluctant one -under her own arm, saying, as she shouldered herself between her and -her cavalier,—</p> - -<p>"Come along with me; it's high time little girls like you were at -home," and without another word Helen was, as it were, marched off -under a strong escort in the direction of the ball-room.</p> - -<p>Good-bye to those few transcendental moments, good-bye to the moonlight -on the water, the scent of orange-flowers, and all the appropriate -surroundings to a love-tale! Say good-bye to Gilbert Lisle and love's -young dream, Helen Denis, and go quietly down the hill with Mrs. -Creery's heavy arm firmly locked in yours.</p> - -<p>The two gentlemen followed in dead silence. Dr. Parkes was infinitely -diverted with this little scene; he had been young himself, and it did -not need the light of his own past experience to tell him, that this -good-looking, impecunious fellow beside him had been trying his hand -at making love to the island belle; but Mrs. Creery was a deal too -sharp for him, and on the whole, "though he was evidently a gentleman," -casting a glance at his companion's aristocratic profile and erect, -rather soldierly figure, he considered that it was a deuced piece of -cheek for <em>him</em> to think of making up to Helen Denis! Alas! little did -Dr. Parkes and the careful matron in his van, guess that they were -merely carrying away the key of the stable, the steed (meaning the - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 152]</span> - -young lady's heart) had been stolen long ago.</p> - -<p>As to Mr. Lisle's thoughts, the reader can easily imagine -them—disgust, impatience, rage were the least of them. How was he to -get another word with Helen? How was he to have a chance of seeing -Colonel Denis? Oh! rash and fatal promise that he had made that -afternoon. When the ladies all emerged, shawled and cloaked from the -mess-room verandah, he made one bold effort to walk home with his -<em>fiancée</em>; but every one was leaving simultaneously, and they all -descended in one compact body, Dr. Malone escorting Miss Denis on one -side, and Captain Rodney on the other; while her accepted lover walked -alone behind, and angrily gnawed his moustache. However, he was the -last to bid her good-bye, he even went a few paces down the little -walk; meanwhile from the high road a crowd looked on—and waited! -This was a trying ordeal, and Dr. Parkes' voice was heard shouting -impatiently,—</p> - -<p>"Now then, Lisle! if you are coming in my boat, look sharp, will you, -there's a good fellow?"</p> - -<p>He felt a fierce desire to throttle the little doctor! Moments to <em>him</em> -were more precious than diamonds, and what was half an hour more or -less to a dried-up old fogey like that?</p> - -<p>He stopped for a second under the palm-trees, and whispered,—</p> - -<p>"I'll come over to-morrow early; I mean this morning, if I may, and -if I can possibly manage it; if not, good-bye, darling—our first and -last good-bye. I shall be back in six weeks," and then he wrung her -hand and went. (A more tender leave-taking was out of the question, in -the searching glare of the moonlight, and under the batteries of forty -pairs of eyes.)</p> - -<p>Poor, ignorant Colonel Denis! who was standing within three yards, -little guessed what Gilbert Lisle was whispering to his daughter; -indeed, he was not aware that he had been whispering at <em>all</em>! nor that -here was a robber who wished to carry off his treasure—his all—his -one ewe lamb.</p> - -<p>No, this guileless, unsuspicious gentleman, nodded a friendly "good - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 153]</span> - -night" to the thief, and went slowly yawning up the steps, then, -turning round, said sleepily,—</p> - -<p>"Well, and how did my little girl enjoy herself?"</p> - -<p>His little girl looked very lovely in his fond eyes, as she stood below -him in her simple white gown, with her face still turned towards the -roadway."</p> - -<p>"Oh! very, very much, papa!" she replied most truthfully, now entering -the dim verandah, and thereby hiding the treacherous blushes that -mounted to her very temples.</p> - -<p>"That's right!" kissing her as he spoke. "There, be off to bed; it's -nearly two o'clock! dreadful hours for an old gentleman like me!"</p> - -<p>But Miss Denis did not obey her parent's injunction; on the contrary, -she went into the drawing-room, laid down her candle, removed her -gloves, and rested her hot face in her hands, and tried to collect her -thoughts, and realize her bliss. She was so happy, she could not bear -to go to bed, for fear she might go to sleep. She wanted to make the -most of the delicious present, to think over every moment, every word, -every look, that she had exchanged with Mr. Lisle this most wonderful -evening. And to think that all along he had stayed away because he -had thought that she was engaged to Jim Quentin—he had said so. Jim -Quentin! And she curled her lip scornfully, as she recollected a recent -little scene between that gentleman and herself.</p> - -<p>For a whole hour she sat in the dimly-lighted drawing-room, looking -out on the stars, listening to the sea, and tasting a happiness that -comes but once in most people's lifetime. She was rudely aroused from -her mental ecstacy, by a tall figure appearing in the doorway, clothed -in white; no ghost this—merely her ayah, with her cloth wrapped round -her, saying in a drowsy voice,—</p> - -<p>"Missy never coming to bed to-night?"</p> - -<hr class="r15" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 154]</span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XIX">CHAPTER XIX.<br /><br /> -<span class="small">PROOF POSITIVE.</span></h2> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container32"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="blockquot"> -<div class="verse">"About a hoop of gold—a paltry ring that she did give me."</div> - </div> - </div> - </div> -</div> -<div class="sig-left60"><span style="margin-left: 1em;"><cite>Merchant of Venice.</cite></span></div> - -<div class="poetry-container37"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="blockquot"> -<div class="verse first-line">"Is this a prologue—or the poesy of a ring?</div> -<div class="verse">'Tis brief, my lord—as woman's love."</div> - </div> - </div> - </div> -</div> -<div class="sig-left60"><span style="margin-left: 1em;"><cite>Hamlet.</cite></span></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">It</span> will not surprise any one to hear, that there was rather a stormy -meeting between Mr. Lisle and his fellow inmate. Mr. Quentin did not -return home till nearly four o'clock, and when he did, he found his -friend sitting up for him, and this of itself constitutes an injury, -especially when the last-comer has had rather too much champagne! -Apollo arrived tired and sleepy, with tumbled locks and tie, and in a -quarrelsome, captious mood, swearing roundly as he came up the steps, -at his unhappy servants—who had spent the night in packing.</p> - -<p>"Hullo!" he cried, seeing the other writing at the table, "not gone to -roost yet, my early bird?"</p> - -<p>"No," looking at him gravely, "I wanted to speak to you first," rising -as he spoke and shutting the door.</p> - -<p>"I say!" with a forced laugh, "you are not going to shoot me, eh?"</p> - -<p>"No, I merely want to ask you why you told me that you were engaged to -Miss Denis?"</p> - -<p>"Who says I'm not?" throwing himself into a chair, and extending his -long legs.</p> - -<p>"She does," replied his companion laconically.</p> - -<p>"And how dare <em>you</em> ask her or meddle in my affairs?" blustered Mr. -Quentin in a loud voice.</p> - -<p>"'Dare' is a foolish word to use to me, Quentin. I do not want to -quarrel with you," feeling that his adversary was not quite himself. -"But I wish to know why you deceived me in this way. What was your -motive?"</p> - -<p>Mr. Quentin was as much sobered by the stern eyes of his <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">vis-à-vis</i>, -as if he had had his head immersed in a bucket of iced water. - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 155]</span> - -He reviewed the circumstances with lightning speed; to tide over -to-morrow, nay, this very day, was all he wanted. In a few hours they -would be off; the <i>Scotia</i> sailed at nine, and the chances were ten to -one that Lisle and Helen Denis would never meet in this world again. -Lisle would probably go home from the Nicobars. He could not afford to -get into his black books (for various reasons, chiefly connected with -cheque books), and he would brazen it out now. As well be hanged for a -sheep as a lamb!</p> - -<p>"I <em>am</em> engaged to her," he said at last.</p> - -<p>"She says you are not; it's merely your word against hers."</p> - -<p>"And which do you believe?"</p> - -<p>"Well, this is no time for mincing matters. I believe Miss Denis," said -the other bluntly.</p> - -<p>"Believe her against me? A girl you have not spoken to ten times in -your life; and you and I have lived here under the same roof like -<em>brothers</em> for months. Oh, Gilbert Lisle!" and his beautiful blue -eyes looked quite misty, as he apostrophized his companion in a tone -as mournful as the renowned "<i xml:lang="la" lang="la">Et tu, Brute</i>."—But, as I have already -stated, Jim Quentin was a consummate actor.</p> - -<p>Mr. Lisle was rather staggered for a moment, and the other went on,—</p> - -<p>"Don't you know—but how should you? for you don't know woman's ways," -with a melancholy shake of the head, "that they <em>all</em>, even the -youngest and simplest of them, think it no harm to tell fibs about -their sweethearts? I give you my solemn word of honour that I've heard -an engaged girl swear she was not going to be married to a fellow up -to a week before the wedding-day. They think that being known to be -engaged, spoils their fun with other men; the more proposals they can -boast of the better. If you have been such a fool, as to believe Helen -Denis's little joke, all I can say is, that I am sorry for you!"</p> - -<p>This was hard swearing, certainly, but it was in for a penny, in for a -pound, and the <i>Scotia</i> sailed at nine o'clock.</p> - -<p>Still Mr. Lisle was not convinced, and he saw it and added,—</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</span></p> - -<p>"You think very little of my bare word, I see. No doubt you would like -to see some tangible proof of what I say. There is no time now ('thank -goodness,' to himself) to bring us face to face, but if I promise to -show you some token before we sail, will that content you?"</p> - -<p>Mr. Lisle made no reply.</p> - -<p>"And," he continued, "I'm going to turn in now, for it's four o'clock, -and I'm dead beat. Don't let us fall out, old fellow—no woman is worth -it. They are all the same, they can't help their nature," and with this -parting declaration, Mr. Quentin, finished actor and finished flirt, -sorrowfully nodded his head and took his departure.</p> - -<p>Once in his own apartment he tore off his coat, called his body-servant -to pull off his boots, threw himself into an arm-chair, and composed -himself with a cheroot, yea, at four o'clock in the morning! He had -shown a bold front, and had impressed Lisle—that he could see plainly. -But how about this little token? He did not possess a glove, a ribbon, -a flower, much less a photograph or a lock of hair. What was he to do? -For fully a quarter of an hour the query found no answer in his brain, -till his sleepy servant, asking some trivial question, gave him a clue; -he saw it all, as it were, in a lightning flash.</p> - -<p>Abdul was married to Miss Denis's ayah (a handsome, good-for-nothing -virago, who, it was rumoured, occasionally inflicted corporal -punishment upon her lord and master, and was avaricious to the last -degree).</p> - -<p>Abdul was a dark, oily-looking, sly person, who was generally to be -trusted—when his own interests did not clash with his employer's.</p> - -<p>"Abdul, look here," said Mr. Quentin suddenly, "I want you to do -something for me at once."</p> - -<p>"Yes, saar," said Abdul in a drowsy voice.</p> - -<p>"Go off, now, this moment, and get the boat, go across to Ross"—here -Abdul's face became very blank indeed,—"go to Colonel Denis's -bungalow, and speak to Fatima, and tell her." Mr. Quentin was, for once -in his life, a little ashamed of what he was about to do; but do it he -would, all the same—he <em>must</em>—he had burnt his boats. "Tell her to -give you that queer gold ring Missy wears—no stones, a pattern like - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 157]</span> - -this," talking the jargon of the East, and showing an ancient seal. "I -want it as 'muster' for another, just to look at; for a present for -Missy, and will give it back to-day. Mind you, Abdul, never letting -Missy know: if you do, or if Fatima says one word, you get nothing; if -you and she manage the job well, you shall have twenty rupees!"</p> - -<p>Abdul stared, and then salaamed and stolidly replied,—</p> - -<p>"I never telling master's business, master knows."</p> - -<p>"Then be off at once, and let me see you back by seven o'clock; and -don't attempt to show your face without <em>that</em>, or no rupees—you -understand?"</p> - -<p>"Master pleases," ejaculated Abdul, and vanished on his errand, an -errand that was much to his taste. A little mystery or intrigue, and -the prospects of a good many rupees, appeals to the native mind in a -very direct fashion.</p> - -<p>At seven o'clock he had returned, having accomplished his mission. -Breathless and radiant he appeared, and roused his sleeping master, -saying,—</p> - -<p>"I've come back, saar, and here"—unfolding a bit of his turban, and -holding out his hand—"I've brought the pattern master wanted."</p> - -<p>"By Jove!" leaning up on his elbow, and now wide awake, "so you have," -taking Helen's ring, and surveying it critically. Yes! nothing could be -better; she always wore it on the third finger of her right hand, and -there was surely some history about it, or he was much mistaken. "We -will see what Lisle will say to <em>this</em>," he muttered to himself as he -squeezed it on his own somewhat plump little finger. Then to Abdul,—</p> - -<p>"Very well. All right; I'll give it back, you know. Meanwhile go to my -box over there, and bring the money-bag, and count yourself out the -dibs I promised you."</p> - -<p>Abdul obeyed this order with great alacrity, salaamed, and then waited -for his next instructions.</p> - -<p>"You can go now; call me in half an hour," said his master, dismissing -him with a wave of his newly-decorated hand.</p> - -<p>"A first-class idea! and, by Jove, Miss Helen, I owed you this. The -idea of a little chit like you, the penniless daughter of an old - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 158]</span> - -Hindoo colonel, giving yourself such airs as you did last night," -alluding to a scene when Helen, wearied by his compliment, and -indignant at his presumption, had plucked up courage to rebuke him in a -manner that penetrated even the triple armour of his self-conceit. Such -a thing was a novel experience, the recollection of it stung him still, -and to such a man as Jim Quentin, the affront was unpardonable. It -awoke a slumbering flame of resentment in his rather stolid breast, and -a burning desire to pay her out! And he would take right good care that -she did not catch Lisle—Lisle, who was certainly inclined to make an -ass of himself about her. With this determination in his mind, he rose, -dressed, and languidly lounged into their mutual sitting-room, where -his companion had been impatiently awaiting him for an hour, intending -subsequently to sail across to Ross, and take one more parting with his -fair lady-love, and, if possible, obtain a word with her father.</p> - -<p>"So you have appeared at last?" he exclaimed; "I've been expecting you -for ages."</p> - -<p>"Have you? but we need not leave this till half-past eight," looking at -his watch. "They know we are going,—and Hall is never in time."</p> - -<p>"I'm not thinking of the <i>Scotia</i>," returned the other, scarcely able -to restrain his impatience; "but of what you promised to show me last -night—that proof you spoke of, you know."</p> - -<p>"Oh! yes; by-the-bye, so I did," as if it were a matter of the most -complete indifference. "I daresay I have something that will convince -you. Will this do?" tendering his hand as he spoke, in quite an airy, -nonchalant fashion.</p> - -<p>Mr. Lisle glanced at it, and beheld his ring, the wreck ring, adorning -Jim Quentin's little finger! He started as if he had been struck—his -own gift, that she declared she would never part with! And she had -bestowed it already,—given it to Quentin: this was enough, was too -much—he asked no more.</p> - -<p>"Well, will that do?" demanded Apollo, removing and tendering the -token. "Are you satisfied <em>now</em>?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 159]</span></p> - -<p>"Yes," replied Mr. Lisle, who had regained his self-command. But the -other had noted the sudden pallor of his face, the almost incredulous -expression of his eyes, and felt that this borrowed bit of jewellery -was indeed a trump card, boldly played.</p> - -<p>Jim was immensely relieved as this one syllable fell from his -companion's lips. The whole matter was now settled. Lisle was choked -off: his own credit was unimpeached, but it had had a narrow squeak, -and last night he had undoubtedly spent a very unpleasant quarter of an -hour.</p> - -<p>Of course Mr. Lisle did not return to Ross, although the white boat lay -waiting for him for an hour, by the landing steps. Helen had more than -half expected him, with trembling, delightful anticipations; how many -times did she run to look in the glass? how many times re-arrange the -flowers in her dress? how many times did she dart to the verandah as a -manly step came up the road? But, alas! after an hour's expectation, -her hopes were dashed to the ground by Miss Lizzie Caggett.</p> - -<p>"The <i>Scotia</i> has sailed!" she screamed out from the pathway. "Come up -to the flagstaff, and see the last of her."</p> - -<p>It was the custom for the ladies on Ross to take constitutionals -before breakfast, and Helen, on her way to the top of the hill with -Miss Lizzie, was joined by Mrs. Creery, Mrs. Home, and Mrs. Durand, -all discussing the previous evening's dissipation. Helen was (they all -remarked) unusually silent: generally she was full of fun and spirits. -She stood aloof, looking after the receding steamer, and said to -herself, "What if he should never come back!"</p> - -<p>But this was a merely passing thought that she silenced immediately. -Mr. Lisle was, as every one knew, a man of his word, and never broke a -promise.</p> - -<p>The little group of ladies stood watching the smoke of the steamer -become smaller and smaller till it vanished altogether, and Helen, as -she turned her face away from the sea at last, had a suspicion of tears -in her eyes,—tears which her companions attributed to Mr. Quentin. -As she walked down the hill with Mrs. Home, that warm-hearted little -lady, who was leaning on her, pressed her arm in token of sympathy, and -whispered in a significant tone,—</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 160]</span></p> - -<p>"He will come back, dear."</p> - -<p>"So he will," agreed Helen, also in a whisper, blushing scarlet as she -spoke. But she and Mrs. Home were not thinking of the same person!</p> - -<hr class="r15" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XX">CHAPTER XX.<br /> -<span class="small">"A GREAT BATTLE."</span></h2> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container40-5"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="blockquot"> -<div class="verse">"But 'twas a famous victory."</div> - </div> - </div> - </div> -</div> -<div class="sig-left60"><cite>Southey.</cite></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">It</span> is perhaps needless to mention that Mrs. Creery made it her -business, and considered it her duty, to circulate the intelligence -that she had received about Mr. Lisle without unnecessary delay. She -read portions of the letter referring to him, in "strict confidence," -to every one she could get hold of, and the missive was nearly worn -out from constant folding and unfolding. If any one ventured to impugn -her testimony, she would lay her hand upon her pocket with a dramatic -gesture, and say,—</p> - -<p>"That's nonsense! I've got it all here in black and white. I always -knew that there was a screw loose about that man. Perhaps you will all -be guided by <em>me</em> another time! I'm an excellent judge of character, as -my sister, Lady Grubb, declares. She always says, 'You cannot go far -wrong if you listen to Eliza'—that's me," pointing to her breast bone -with a plump forefinger. Then she would produce the billet and, after -much clearing of throat, commence to read what she already knew by -heart.</p> - -<p>"'You ask me if I can tell you anything about a Mr. Lisle, a mysterious -person who has lately come to the Andamans; very dark, age over thirty, -slight in figure, shabby and idle, close about himself, and with a -curious, deliberate way of speaking; supposed to have been in the army, -and to have come from Bengal. Christian name unknown, initial letter -G.'"</p> - -<p>(It sounded exactly like a description in a police notice.)</p> - -<p>"'My dear Mrs. Creery, I know him well, and he may well be close about - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 161]</span> - -himself and his affairs'"—here it was Mrs. Creery's cue to pause and -smack her lips with unction. "'If he is the person you so accurately -describe, he is a Captain Lisle, a black sheep who was turned out of a -regiment in Bengal on account of some very shady transactions on the -turf.'"—"He told me himself he was fond of riding," Mrs. Creery would -supplement, as if this fact clenched the business. "'He was bankrupt, -and had a fearful notoriety in every way. No woman who respected -herself would be seen speaking to him! The Andamans, no doubt, suit him -very well at present, and offer him a new field for his energies, and -a harbour of refuge at the same time. Do not let any one cash a cheque -for him, and warn all the young ladies in the settlement that he is a -<em>married</em> man!'"</p> - -<p>"There," Mrs. Creery would conclude, with a toss of her topee, "what do -you think of that?"</p> - -<p>"Mr. Lisle is not here to speak for himself," ventured Helen on one -occasion. "<i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">Les absents ont toujours tort.</i>"</p> - -<p>It was new to see Helen adopt an insurrectionary attitude. Mrs. Creery -stared.</p> - -<p>"Nonsense—stuff and nonsense," angrily. "And let me tell you, Helen -Denis, that it is not at all maidenly or modest for a young girl like -you to be taking up the cudgels for a notorious reprobate like this -Lisle."</p> - -<p>"I'm sure he is not a reprobate, and I'm certain you are mistaken," -rejoined Helen bravely.</p> - -<p>Here the elder lady flamed out, and thumped her umbrella violently on -the ground, and cried in her highest key,—</p> - -<p>"Then why did he go away? He knew that I had heard about him, for I -told him so to his face. I never say behind a person's back what I -won't say to their face." (Oh! Mrs. Creery, Mrs. Creery!) "And it is a -very remarkable coincidence, that in less than twelve hours, he was out -of the place! How do you account for that, eh?"</p> - -<p>She paused for breath, and once more proceeded triumphantly,—</p> - -<p>"He will never show here again, believe me; and, after all, I am -thankful to say he has done no great harm! As far as <em>I</em> know he ran - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 162]</span> - -no bills in the bazaar, and certainly neither you nor Lizzie Caggett -lost your hearts to him!"</p> - -<p>Helen became very pale, her lips quivered, and she was unable to reply -for a moment. Then she said,—</p> - -<p>"At any rate, I believe in him, Mrs. Creery,—and always will; deeds -are better than words. Have you forgotten the wreck?"</p> - -<p>"Forgotten it?" she screamed. "Am I ever likely to get it out of my -head? Only for my calling myself hoarse, you and Mr. Lisle would both -have been murdered in that hole of a cabin! You know I told you not to -go down, and you would, and see what you got by it."</p> - -<p>There was not the slightest use in arguing with this lady, who not -only imposed upon others, but also upon herself: she had a distorted -mind, that idealized everything connected with her own actions, and -deprecated, and belittled, the deeds of other people! The only persons -who had <em>not</em> heard the horrible tale about Mr. Lisle were the Durands -and the general; the latter was a singularly astute gentleman, and -never lost a certain habit of cool military promptitude, even when in -retreat. Each time Mrs. Creery had exhibited symptoms of extracting a -letter from her pocket, he had escaped! The Durands were Mr. Lisle's -friends,—a fact that lowered them many fathoms in Mrs. Creery's -estimation, and were consequently the very last to hear of the scandal!</p> - -<p>About a fortnight after the departure of the <i>Scotia</i>, the general -gave one of his usual large dinner-parties; every one in Ross was -invited, and about twenty-four sat down to the table. When the meal -was over, and the ladies had pulled a few crackers, and sipped their -glass of claret, they all filed off into the drawing-room in answer -to Mrs. Creery's rather dramatic signal, and there they looked over -photographs, noted the alterations in each other's dresses, drank -coffee, and conversed in groups. In due time the conversation turned -upon that ever fertile topic, "Mr. Lisle," and Mrs. Graham, who was -seated beside Mrs. Durand, little knowing what she was doing, fired -the first shot, by regretting very much "that Mr. Lisle had turned -out to be such a dreadful character, so utterly different from what -he seemed." Encouraged by one or two cleverly-put questions from her - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 163]</span> - -neighbour, she unfolded the whole story. Meantime, Mrs. Durand sat and -listened, in rigid silence, her lips pressed firmly together, her hands -tightly locked in her pale-blue satin lap. When the recital had come -to an end, she turned her grave eyes on her companion, and said in her -most impressive manner,—</p> - -<p>"<em>How</em> do you know this?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, it's well known, it's all over the place. Mrs. Creery had a -letter," glancing over to where that lady reclined in a comfortable -chair, with a serene expression on her face, and a gently-nodding -diadem.</p> - -<p>"Mrs. Creery," said Mrs. Durand, raising her voice, which was -singularly clear and penetrating, "pray what is this story that you -have been telling every one about Mr. Lisle?"</p> - -<p>This warlike invocation awoke the good lady from her doze, and, like -a battle-steed, she lifted her head, and, as it were, sniffed the -conflict from afar!</p> - -<p>"I've been telling nothing but the truth, Mrs. Durand"—rousing herself -at once to an upright position—"and you are most welcome to <em>hear</em> it, -though he <em>is</em> a friend of yours," and she tossed her diadem as much as -to say "Come on!"</p> - -<p>"Thank you! Then will you be so very kind as to repeat what you have -heard," returned Mrs. Durand with a freezing politeness that made the -other ladies look at each other significantly. There was going to be a -fight, and they felt a thrill of mingled delight and apprehension at -the prospect.</p> - -<p>Bold Mrs. Durand was the only woman in the island who had never veiled -her crest to Mrs. Creery. She was now about to challenge her to single -combat—yes, they all saw it in her face!</p> - -<p>"I always knew that there was something very wrong about that man," -began the elder lady in her usual formula, and figuratively placing her -lance in rest. "People who have nothing to hide, are never ashamed to -speak of their concerns, but no one ever got a word out of Mr. Lisle, -and I am sure he received every encouragement to be open! He was in the -army, he admitted <em>that</em> against his will, and that was all. He never - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 164]</span> - -deceived <em>me</em>;—I knew he was without any resources, I—knew he was out -at elbows, I knew——"</p> - -<p>"Pray spare us your opinion, and tell us what <em>facts</em> you have to go -upon," interrupted Mrs. Durand, calmly cutting short this flow of -denunciation.</p> - -<p>"I have a letter from a friend at Simla," unconsciously seeking her -pocket, "a letter," she retorted proudly, "which you can <em>read</em>, -saying that he was cashiered for conduct unbecoming an officer and a -gentleman, that he is a bankrupt, and a swindler, and a married man," -as if this last enormity crowned all.</p> - -<p>"It is not true—not a word of it!" replied Mrs. Durand, as coolly as -if she were merely saying, "How do you do?"</p> - -<p>"Not true! nonsense; is he not dark, aged over thirty, name Lisle? -did he not hang about the settlement for six months living on his -wits? Of course it is true," rejoined the elder lady, with an air that -proclaimed that she had not merely crushed, but pulverized, her foe!</p> - -<p>"Lisle is not an uncommon name, and I know that my friend is not the -original of your flattering little sketch."</p> - -<p>"But I tell you that he <em>is</em>! I can prove it; I have it all in black -and white!" cried Mrs. Creery furiously—her temper had now gone by -the board. Who was this Mrs. Durand that she should dare to contradict -her? She saw that they were face to face in the lists, and that the -other ladies were eager spectators of the tourney; it was not merely -a dispute over Mr. Lisle, it was a struggle for the social throne, -whoever conquered now would be mistress of the realm. This woman must -be browbeaten, silenced, and figuratively slain!</p> - -<p>"I have it all in writing, and pray what can <em>you</em> bring against that?" -she demanded imperiously.</p> - -<p>"Simply my word, which I hope will stand good," returned the other -firmly.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Creery laughed derisively, and tossed her head and then replied,—</p> - -<p>"Words go for nothing!"</p> - -<p>This was rude—it was more than rude, it was insulting!</p> - -<p>"Am I to understand that you do not believe mine?" said Mrs. Durand, - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 165]</span> - -making a noble effort to keep her temper.</p> - -<p>"Oh," ignoring the question, "I have never doubted that <em>you</em> could -tell us more about Mr. Lisle than most people, and a woman will say -anything for a man—a man who is a friend," returned the other lady -with terrible significance.</p> - -<p>This was hard-hitting with a vengeance, still Mrs. Durand never quailed.</p> - -<p>"Shall I tell you who Mr. Lisle really is? I did not intend to mention -it, as he begged me to be silent."</p> - -<p>(Here Mrs. Creery's smile was really worth going a quarter of a mile to -see.)</p> - -<p>"I have known him for many years; he is an old friend of mine, and of -my brothers."</p> - -<p>"Oh, of your brothers!" interrupted her antagonist, looking up at the -ceiling with a derisive laugh and an adequate expression of incredulity.</p> - -<p>"I am not specially addressing myself to <em>you</em>, Mrs. Creery," exclaimed -Mrs. Durand at white heat, but still retaining wonderful command of her -temper. "My brothers were at Eton with him," she continued, looking -towards her other listeners. "He is the second son of Lord Lingard and -the Honourable Gilbert Lisle."</p> - -<p>A silence ensued, during which you might have heard a pin drop; Mrs. -Creery's face became of a dull beetroot colour, and her eyes looked as -if they were about to take leave of their sockets.</p> - -<p>"And what brought him masquerading here?" she panted forth at last.</p> - -<p>"He was not masquerading, he came in his own name," returned Mrs. -Durand with calm decision. "He left the service on coming in for a -large property, and spends most of his time travelling about; he is -fond"—addressing herself specially to the other ladies, and rather -wondering at Helen Denis's scarlet cheeks—"of exploring out-of-the-way -places. I believe he has been to Siberia and Central America. The -Andamans were a novelty; he came for a few weeks and stayed for a few -months because he liked the fishing and boating and the unconventional -life."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 166]</span></p> - -<p>"And who is the other Lisle?"</p> - -<p>"Some distant connection, I believe; every family has its black sheep."</p> - -<p>"Why did he not let us know his position?" gasped Mrs. Creery.</p> - -<p>"Because he thinks it of so little importance; he wished, I conclude, -to stand on his own merits, and to be valued for himself alone. He -found his proper level here, did he not, Mrs. Creery? He lived in the -palace of truth for once!" and she laughed significantly—undoubtedly -turn-about is fair play, it was her turn now.</p> - -<p>"I must say that I wonder what he saw in the Andamans," exclaimed Mrs. -Graham at last.</p> - -<p>"One attraction, no doubt, was, because he could go away whenever he -liked; another, that he was left to himself—no one ran after him!" and -Mrs. Durand laughed again. "In London he is made so much of, as every -one knows he is wealthy and a bachelor, and that his eldest brother has -only one lung! Besides all these advantages, he is extremely popular, -and is beset by invitations to shoot, to dance, to dine, to yacht, from -year's end to year's end. Well, he got a complete holiday from all that -kind of thing <em>here</em>!"</p> - -<p>Then she recollected that in castigating Mrs. Creery and Miss Caggett -she was including totally innocent people—people who had always been -civil to the Honourable Gilbert Lisle, such as Mrs. Graham, Mrs. Home, -Miss Denis, and others, and she added,—</p> - -<p>"All the same, I should tell you that he enjoyed his stay here -immensely, he told me so, and that he would always have a kindly -recollection of Port Blair, and of the friends he had made in the -settlement."</p> - -<p>(Mrs. Durand, thought Helen, does not know everything; she evidently -is not aware that he is coming back.) The speaker paused at the word -settlement, for she had made the discovery that most of the gentlemen -had entered and were standing in the background while she had been, as -it were, addressing the house. A general impression had been gathered -about Mr. Lisle also, as Captain Rodney whispered to Dr. Malone, that -"Mrs. Creery had evidently had what she would be all the better for, - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 167]</span> - -viz., a rare good setting down."</p> - -<p>Infatuated Mrs. Creery! deposed, and humbled potentate, if there was -one thing that was even nearer to her heart than Nip, it was the owner -of a <em>title</em>.</p> - -<p>She could hardly grasp any tangible idea just at present, she -was so completely dazed. It was as if Mrs. Durand had let off a -catherine-wheel in her face.</p> - -<p>Mr. Lisle an Honourable! Mr. Lisle immensely rich! Mr. Lisle, whom she -had offered to pay for his photographs, whom she had never met without -severely snubbing. And all the time he was the son of a lord, and she -had unconsciously lost a matchless opportunity of cementing a lifelong -friendship with one of the aristocracy. Alas, for poor Mrs. Creery, her -mind was chaos!</p> - -<p>After the storm there ensued the proverbial calm; the piano was opened, -and people tried to look at ease, and to pretend, forsooth, that they -were not thinking of the recent grand engagement, but it was all a -hollow sham.</p> - -<p>Helen, if it had been in her power, would have endowed that brave -woman, Mrs. Durand, with a Victoria Cross for valour, and, indeed, -every lady present secretly offered her a personal meed of admiration -and gratitude. She had slain their dragon, who would never more dare -to rear her head and tyrannize over the present or vilify the absent. -Surely there should be some kind of domestic decoration accorded to -those who arm themselves with moral courage, and go forth and rescue -the reputation of their friends.</p> - -<p>Miss Caggett sat in the background, looking unusually grave and gloomy, -no doubt thinking with remorseful stings of <em>her</em> lost opportunities. -Dr. Malone grinned and nodded, and rubbed his rather large bony hands -ecstatically, and whispered to Captain Rodney that "<em>he</em> had always had -a notion that Lisle the photographer was a prince in disguise!"</p> - -<p>As for Mrs. Creery, as before mentioned, that truculent lady was -absolutely shattered; she resembled an ill constructed automaton who -had been knocked down and then set up limply in a chair, or a woman in -a dream—and that a bad one. After a while she spoke in a strangely - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 168]</span> - -subdued voice, and said,—</p> - -<p>"General, I don't feel very well; that coffee of yours has given me a -terrible headache. If you will send for my jampan, I'll just go quietly -home."</p> - -<p>Thus she withdrew, with a pitiable remnant of her former dignity, her -host escorting her politely to the entrance, and placing her in her -chair with faint regrets. Every one knew perfectly well, that it was -<em>not</em> the General's coffee that had routed Mrs. Creery, it was she -whose beautiful contralto was now filling the drawing-room as her late -antagonist tottered down the steps—it was that valiant lady, Mrs. -Durand!</p> - -<hr class="r15" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXI">CHAPTER XXI.<br /><br /> -<span class="small">THE NICOBARS.</span></h2> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container41"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="blockquot"> -<div class="verse first-line">"Once I loved a maiden fair,</div> -<div class="verse indent3">But she did deceive me."</div> - </div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">When</span> last we saw Mr. Quentin, he had just succeeded in convincing his -companion that he was Miss Denis's favoured suitor. This was well—this -was satisfactory. But it was neither well, nor yet satisfactory, to -behold Lisle calmly appropriate the posy ring, and put it in his -waistcoat pocket.</p> - -<p>"Hullo! I say, you know," expostulated Apollo, "give me back my -property."</p> - -<p>"No," returned the other very coolly; "it was originally mine, and as -it has once more come into my hands, I will keep it."</p> - -<p>Mr. Quentin became crimson with anger and dismay.</p> - -<p>"I found it on the wreck, and gave it to Miss Denis, who said she -valued it greatly, but as she has passed it on to you, I see that her -words were a mere <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">façon de parler</i>, and if she asks you what you have -done with it, you can tell her that you showed it to me, and that <em>I</em> -retained it."</p> - -<p>There was a high-handed air about this bare-faced robbery that simply - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 169]</span> - -took Mr. Quentin's breath away, and the whole proceeding put him in, as -he expressed it himself, "such an awful hat;" for he had never meant -to steal the ring—he only wanted the loan of it for half an hour, -and now that it had served his purpose, it was to be restored to its -mistress; but here was Lisle actually compelling him to be a <em>thief</em>! -Vainly he stammered, blustered, and figuratively flapped his wings! -he might as well have stammered and blustered to the wall. Lisle was -impassive—moreover, the boat was waiting; and Abdul returned to Ross -and Fatima, plus twenty rupees, but minus the ring. And what a search -there was for that article when Helen Denis missed it; rooms were -turned out, matting was taken up, every hole and corner was searched, -but all to no purpose—considering that the ring was, as we know, on -its way to the Nicobars.</p> - -<p>Fatima, the Cleopatra-like, was touched when she saw her Missy actually -weeping for her lost property; but all the same, she positively assured -her that she had never seen it since she had had it on her finger -last—indeed, if it had been in her power to return it she would have -done so, for Helen offered a considerable reward to whoever would -restore her the most precious of her possessions. Days and weeks went -by, but no ring was found.</p> - -<p>The <i>Scotia</i> left Calcutta once every six weeks, calling firstly -at Port Blair, then at the Nicobars, then Rangoon, and so back to -Calcutta; and the reason of Mr. Quentin's hurried departure was that -the order to start for the Nicobars came in the steamer that was to -take him there, otherwise there would have been the usual delay of six -weeks. Once on board, he went straight below to his cabin, turned in, -and recouped himself for his sleepless night. He slept soundly all day -long, having immense capacities in that line. Mr. Hall, the settlement -officer, walked the deck with Mr. Lisle, and subsequently they -descended to the saloon and played chess. The group near the flagstaff -had not been unnoticed by the passengers of the <i>Scotia</i> as she steamed -by under the hill; there had been some waving of handkerchiefs, but -Mr. Lisle's had never left his pocket. He had something else in that -selfsame pocket that forbade such demonstration—the fatal ring, and a - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 170]</span> - -ring that bore for motto, as he had now discovered, "Love me and leave -me not"—a motto that implied a bitter mockery of the present occasion. -This wreck ring was assuredly an unlucky token! Only last night, and -Helen had seemed to him the very incarnation of simplicity, truth, and -faith—what a contrast to those many lovely London sirens who smiled -on him—and his <em>rent roll</em>! Never again would he be deceived by -nineteen summers, and sweet grey eyes; no, never again. This was the -determination he came to, as he paced the deck that night beneath the -stars.</p> - -<p>The next morning the <i>Scotia</i> was off the low, long coast of the -Nicobars; so low was it, that it resembled a forest standing in the -water. In the midst of this seeming forest there was a narrow passage -that a casual eye might easily overlook; a passage just barely wide -enough to admit the steamer, with a natural arch of rock on one side; -the water was clear, emerald green, and very deep, and along the wooded -shores of the entrance to Camorta were many white native huts, built on -wooden piles, scattered up and down the high banks clothed in jungle. -Soon the passage widened into a large inland bay, lined with mangroves -and poison-breathing jungles, save for a clearing on the left-hand -side, where there was a rude pier, a bazaar of native houses, and some -larger wooden buildings on the overhanging hill. This was Camorta, the -capital of the Nicobars, to which Port Blair was as London to some -small provincial town.</p> - -<p>The natives were totally different to the Andamanese; they were Malays, -with brown skins, flat heads, and wide mouths, and came swarming round -the three Europeans as they landed, and commenced to climb the hill. -One, who was very sprucely dressed in a blue frock-coat, grey trousers, -white tie, and tall hat, and flourished a gold watch, was bare-footed, -and had it made known to Mr. Lisle, before he was five minutes on -<i xml:lang="la" lang="la">terra firma</i>, that he was prepared to give him one thousand cocoa-nuts -in exchange for his boots.</p> - -<p>The buildings on the hill included a big, gaunt-looking bungalow, in -which the three new arrivals took up their quarters. It was rather - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 171]</span> - -destitute of furniture, but commanded a matchless view of this great -inland bay and far-away hills; it also overlooked a rather suggestive -object, an old white ship, that lay off Camorta, the crew of which -had been killed and eaten, many years previously, by the inhospitable -Nicobarese! Gilbert Lisle had never in all his wanderings been in any -place he detested as cordially as his present residence. Days seemed -endless, the nights hot and stifling, the sun scorching, the sport -bad. And other things, such probably as his own frame of mind, did not -tend to enhance the charms of Camorta. Mr. Hall had ample occupation; -Jim Quentin an unlimited capacity for sleep. He had also a box full of -literature, a good brand of cigars, and, moreover, was at peace with -himself and all mankind. He could do a number of doubtful actions, and -yet he always managed to retain himself in his own good graces. He had -squared Lisle, who was going away direct from the Nicobars to Rangoon, -thence to Singapore and Japan. This was a most desirable move, and -there would be no more raking up of awkward subjects, and <em>he</em> would -never be found out. His period of expatriation was nearly at an end, -he was financially the better for his exile at Port Blair, and then, -hurrah for a hill-station, fresh fields, and pretty faces, or, better -still, Piccadilly and the Park! Meanwhile, he was at the Nicobars, and -there he had to stay, so he accepted the present philosophically, and -slept as much as possible, and grumbled when awake at the food, the -climate, and the heads of his department, and was not nearly as much -to be pitied as he imagined, not half as much as Lisle, who neither -read novels nor slept many hours at a stretch, or had agreeable -anticipations of future flirtations in hill-stations. He was remarkably -silent, and smoked many of the drowsy hours away. When he <em>did</em> join in -the conversation, his remarks were so cynical, and his words so sharply -edged, that Mr. Quentin was positively in awe of him, and was more -than usually wary in the choice of his topics. Out of doors, he shot -the ugly, greedy caymen, caught turtle, and sketched, or explored the -country recklessly; making his way through the rank, dank jungle, where -matted creepers hung from tree to tree, and snakes and spotted vipers - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 172]</span> - -darted up their hideous heads as he brushed past their moist, dark -hiding-places.</p> - -<p>A good deal of Mr. Lisle's time was spent in absolute idleness, and -though the name of Helen Denis never crossed his lips, he had by no -means cast her out of his mind. Hourly he fought with his thoughts: -hourly he weighed all the <em>pros</em> and <em>cons</em>. Her acceptance of -Quentin's attentions went to balance against her coolness to him -subsequently; her blushes when he appeared were a set-off against her -solemn denial of any understanding between them; her evident agitation -when he himself had wooed her was neutralized by the bestowal of his -ring upon Quentin—the ring kicked the beam; the ring was the verdict. -After all, Quentin was ten times more likely to engage a girl's fancy -than himself. Apollo was handsome, gay, and fascinating—when he chose; -<em>he</em> was sunburnt, shabby, rather morose, and seemingly a pauper; -that part of it was his own fault, he had no one but himself to blame -for that. Query, would it have been better if he had permitted the -truth to leak out, and allowed the community to know that they had the -Honourable Gilbert Lisle, the owner of ten thousand a year, dwelling -among them? In some ways things would have been pleasanter, but he had -not come down to the Andamans for society, but for sea-fishing, and -sailing, and an unfettered, out-door life. And when he was accidentally -thrown into the company of a pretty girl, who was as pleasant to him as -if he were a millionaire, who smiled on him as brightly as on others, -in far more flourishing circumstances, who could ask him to resist the -temptation that had thrust itself into his way—the triumph of winning -her in the guise of a poor and un-pretending suitor?</p> - -<p>The temptation led him on, and dazzled him, and for a moment he seemed -to have the prize in his hands; and what a prize! especially to him, -who was accustomed to being flattered, deferred to, and courted in a -manner that accounted for his rather cynical views of society. But, -alas! his treasure-trove (his simple-minded island maiden), had been -rudely wrested from him ere he had realized its possession; and - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 173]</span> - -yet, after all, it was no loss, the apparently priceless jewel was -imitation, was paste!</p> - -<p>Why had she told him a deliberate lie? He might forgive a little -coquetry (perhaps); he might forgive the unpleasant fact of her having -"made a fool of him," as his friend had so delicately suggested, but a -falsehood, uttered without a falter or a blush, <em>never</em>!</p> - -<p>Week succeeded week, and each day seemed as long as seven—each week -a month. Lisle, the ardent admirer of strange scenes, and strange -countries, was callous and indifferent to the natural beauties of the -place. He had actually come to <em>hate</em> the magnificent foliage, golden -mid-day hazes, and the gorgeous, blinding sunsets, of these sleepy -southern islands. All he craved for, was to get away from such sights, -and never, never, see them more! Latterly, he found ample occupation in -nursing Mr. Hall to the best of his ability—Mr. Hall, who had fallen a -victim to the deadly Nicobar fever, and tossed and moaned and raved all -through the scorching days and suffocating nights, and was under the -delusion that the hand that smoothed his pillow, and held the cup to -his parched lips, and bathed his burning temples, was his mother's! Jim -Quentin (the selfish) merely contented himself with languidly inquiring -after the patient once a day, and shutting himself up in his own side -of the bungalow, as it were in a fastness, partaking of his meals -alone, totally ignoring his companions, since one of them was sick, and -the other was stupid.</p> - -<p>The thin veneer of Mr. Jim's charm of manner, could not stand much -knocking about; a good deal of it had worn off, and Mr. Lisle beheld -him as he really was; selfish to the core, vain and arrogant,—yet -not proud, not very sensitive on the subject of borrowing money, and -with rather hazy ideas with regard to the interpretation of the word -"honour."</p> - -<p>Lisle, in his heart, secretly despised his fascinating inmate; but, -needless to say, he endeavoured to keep this sentiment entirely in the -background, though, now and then, a winged word like a straw, might -have shown a looker-on which way the wind blew.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 174]</span></p> - -<p>At length, the long-desired <i>Scotia</i> came steaming up Camorta Bay, -like a goaler to set free her prisoners; she remained off the pier -for a few hours, and Mr. Lisle was unfeignedly delighted to see her -once more, for she was to carry him away to Rangoon, to civilization, -occupation and oblivion. His traps were ready, but ere he took leave -of his companions and went on board, he sat for a while reading the -newly-arrived letters in the verandah, along with Jim Quentin.</p> - -<p>"Hullo!" exclaimed the latter, suddenly looking up. "I say, what do you -think! here is a letter from Parkes, and poor old Denis is dead!"</p> - -<p>"Dead?" ejaculated his companion.</p> - -<p>"Yes, listen to this,"—reading aloud,—"he was on the ranges one -morning, and in trying to save a native child who ran across the line -of fire, he was shot through the heart. We are all very much cut up, -and as to Miss Denis, the poor girl is so utterly broken-down you would -scarcely know her."</p> - -<p>"It must have been a fearful shock," said Mr. Lisle. "I'm very sorry -for Denis, very. Of course you will go back at once—now!"</p> - -<p>"How?" thrown completely off his guard, "why?"</p> - -<p>"How? by the <em>Enterprise</em>, which will be here in three days with -stores, and why? really, I scarcely expected you to ask <em>me</em> such a -question. She——"</p> - -<p>"Oh," interrupting quickly, "oh, yes! I quite understand what you mean. -Oh, of course, of course!"</p> - -<p>After this ensued a rather long silence, and then Mr. Lisle spoke,—</p> - -<p>"I now remember rather a strange thing," he said reflectively. "Denis -and I were looking over the wall of the new cemetery together one -evening, and I recollect his saying, that he wondered how long it would -be till the first grave was dug.—Strange that it should be his own!"</p> - -<p>"Strange indeed!" acquiesced his companion tranquilly, "but, of course, -everything must have a beginning. Here's a Lascar coming up from the -pier," he added, rising hastily, and collecting his letters as he -spoke, "and we had better be making a start."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 175]</span></p> - -<p>In another hour Mr. James Quentin was walking back to the bungalow -alone. As he stood on the hill above the pier, and watched the smoke of -the departing steamer above the jungle, he felt a curious and unusual -sensation, he actually felt,—his almost fossilized conscience told -him,—that he had not behaved altogether well to Lisle! Lisle, who had -been his friend by deeds, not words; Lisle, who had borne the blow he -had dealt him like a man; had never once allowed a word, or allusion -that might reflect on Helen, to pass his lips, and had accepted the -ring with unquestioning faith. Yes, Lisle, though rather silent and -unusually dull (for generally he was such an amusing fellow), had -taken his disappointment well. Mr. Quentin, however, rated such -disappointments very lightly. Judging others by himself, they were mere -pin-pricks at the time, and as such consigned to the limbo of complete -oblivion within a week.</p> - -<p>"After all," he said aloud, as he slowly strolled back with his hands -in his pockets, "I am in reality his <em>best</em> friend! It would never have -done for him, to entangle himself with a girl without connections, a -girl without a penny, a girl he picked up at the Andamans! Haw! haw! by -Jove! how people would laugh! No, no, Gilbert Lisle, you must do better -than that; you will have to look a little higher for the future Lady -Lingard. I don't suppose she has a brass farthing, and she certainly -would not suit my book at all."</p> - -<p>Needless to add, that this mirror of chivalry did not return to Port -Blair an hour sooner than was his original intention.</p> - -<hr class="r15" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXII">CHAPTER XXII.<br /><br /> -<span class="small">THE FIRST GRAVE.</span></h2> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container38-5"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="blockquot"> -<div class="verse first-line">"They laid him by the pleasant shore,</div> -<div class="verse">And in the hearing of the wave."</div> - </div> - </div> - </div> -</div> -<div class="sig-left60"><span style="margin-left: 1em;"><cite>Tennyson.</cite></span></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> news about Colonel Denis was only too true! He had started for the -ranges on Aberdeen one morning about nine o'clock, as his regiment - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 176]</span> - -was going through their annual course of musketry, and as he stood in -a marker's butt, close to the targets, a native child from the Sepoy -lines suddenly emerged from some unsuspected hiding-place, where she -had been lying <em>perdue</em>, and ran right into the open, across the line -of fire. Colonel Denis rushed out to drag her into shelter, but just -as he seized her, a bullet from a Martini-Henry struck him between the -shoulders, and without a groan, he fell forward on his face dead. Yes, -he was quite dead when they hurried up to him. The shock to every one -was stupefying; they were speechless with horror; but five minutes -previously he had been talking to them so cheerfully, and had to all -appearances as good a life as any one present,—and now here he lay -motionless on his face in the sand, a dark stain widening on his white -coat, and a frightened little native child whimpering beside him.</p> - -<p>"Instantaneous," said Dr. Malone, with an unprofessional huskiness in -his voice, when they brought him running to the spot. "What an awful -thing, and no one to blame, unless that little beggar's mother," -glancing at the imp, who stared back at the Sahib with all the power of -her frightened black eyes. "Poor Denis; but it was just like him,—he -never thought of himself." This was his epitaph, the manner in which he -met his death, "was just like him."</p> - -<p>And who was to break the terrible tidings to his daughter? People asked -one another the question with bated breath and anxious eyes, as they -stood around. Who was to go and tell her, that her father, to whom she -had bidden a playful good-bye an hour ago, was dead, that that smiling -wave of his hand had been, Farewell for ever!</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>It was about eleven o'clock, and Helen was sitting at the piano, -playing snatches of different things, unable to settle down to any -special song or piece. She had felt curiously restless all the morning, -and was thinking that she would run over and have a chat with Mrs. -Home,—for she was too idle to do anything else,—when a sudden loud - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 177]</span> - -sob made her start up from the music-stool and turn round somewhat -nervously.</p> - -<p>There she beheld her ayah, Fatima, staring at her through the purdah, -but the instant she was discovered, she quickly dropped it, and -vanished. It never occurred to Helen to connect Fatima's tears with -herself, or her affairs; it was more than probable that she had been -having a quarrel with her husband, and that they had been beating -one another, as was their wont,—when words were exhausted. She was -thinking of following her handmaiden, but she believed it would only be -the old story, "Abdul, plenty bad man, very wicked rascal," when her -ear caught the sound of footsteps coming up the front pathway. They -halted, then it was <em>not</em> Mrs. Creery; she never did that, and peeping -over the blind, she beheld to her amazement, Mr. Latimer and Mrs. Home. -And Mrs. Home was crying, what could it be? And they were both coming -to her.</p> - -<p>A pang of apprehension seemed to seize her heart with a clutch of ice, -some unknown, some dreadful trouble was on its way to <em>her</em>. She sprang -down the steps and met them, saying,—</p> - -<p>"What is the matter? Oh! Mr. Latimer, you have come to tell me -something—something," growing very white, "about papa?"</p> - -<p>Mr. Latimer himself was deadly pale, and seemed to find considerable -difficulty in speaking. At last he said,—</p> - -<p>"Yes; he has been hurt on the ranges."</p> - -<p>"Then let me go to him at once—at once."</p> - -<p>"Oh, my dear, my dear," cried Mrs. Home, bursting into tears, "you must -prepare yourself for trouble."</p> - -<p>"I am prepared; please let me go to him. Oh, I am losing time; where is -he? Why, they are bringing him home," as her quick ear caught the heavy -tramp of measured feet, bearing some burden,—an hospital dhoolie.</p> - -<p>Before either of her visitors had guessed at her intention, she had -flown down the pathway, and met the procession. She hastily pulled -aside the curtain, and took her father's hand in hers. But what was -this? this motionless form, with closed eyes? She had never seen it -before in all her life, but who does not recognize Death, even at - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 178]</span> - -their first meeting?</p> - -<p>"Oh! he is dead," she shrieked, and fell insensible on the pathway.</p> - -<p>For a long time she remained unconscious, and "it was best so" people -whispered. There were so many sad arrangements to be made. The General -himself superintended everything with regard to the funeral, which was -to take place at sundown, as was the invariable custom in the East. -There, there is no gradual parting as in England, where white-covered -dead lies amid the living for days. In India such hospitality is never -shown to death, he is thrust forth the very day he comes. The wrench is -agonizing, and, as in a case like the present, where death was sudden, -the shock overwhelming.</p> - -<p>To think that you may be laughing and talking with a relative, friend, -or neighbour, one evening, that they have been in the very best of -health, as little anticipating the one great change as yourself, and -that by the very next night, they may be dead and <em>buried</em>! In Eastern -countries, there seems to be almost a cruel promptness about the -funerals, but it is inevitable. By five o'clock everything was ready -in the bungalow on the hill; the bier and bearers, the mourners, the -wreaths of flowers, and the Union Jack for pall. Colonel Denis had that -morning been given a huge bunch of white flowers for Helen; lovely -lilies, ferns and orchids, that did not grow on Ross; he had brought -home and presented the offering with pride, and she, being unusually -lazy, had left the flowers in a big china bowl, intending to arrange -them after breakfast.</p> - -<p>How little are we able to see into the future! Happily for ourselves. -Would Colonel Denis have carried home that big bunch of lilies with -such alacrity had he known that they were destined to decorate his own -coffin!</p> - -<p>In deference to Helen, who was now alive to every sound, the large -<i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">cortège</i> almost stole from the door, and the band was mute. The -cemetery was on Aberdeen, not far from the fatal ranges, and the -funeral went by boat. Once on the sea, that profoundly melancholy -strain, "The Dead March in Saul," was heard, after three preliminary -muffled beats of the drum; and it sounded, if possible, more weird - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 179]</span> - -and sad than usual. As its strains were wafted across the water, and -reached the bungalow on the hill, Helen sat up on the sofa, and looked -wildly at Mrs. Home and Mrs. Durand.</p> - -<p>"I—I—hear—the 'Dead March' in the distance! Who—who is it for? It -is not playing for papa.—It is impossible, <em>impossible</em>. See, here are -some of the flowers he brought me this morning—there are his gloves, -that he left to have mended! I know," wringing her hands as she spoke, -"that people do die, but never—never like this! This is some fearful -dream; or I am going mad; or I have had a long illness, and I have been -off my head. Oh, that band—" now putting her fingers in her ears, and -burying her face in the cushions, "it is a dream-band—a nightmare!"</p> - -<p>After a very long silence, there was another sound from across the -water—the distant rattle of musketry repeated thrice, and now Mrs. -Home, and Mrs. Durand, were aware that the last honours had been paid -to Colonel Denis,—who had been alive and as well as they were that -very morning,—and was now both dead and buried.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Nothing short of the very <em>plainest</em> speaking had been able to keep -Mrs. Creery from forcing herself into Helen's presence. But Mrs. Home, -Mr. Latimer, and Dr. Malone, were as the three hundred heroic Greeks -who kept the pass at Thermopylæ. They formed a body-guard she could not -pass.</p> - -<p>Every one, even the last-mentioned matron, desired to have Helen under -their roof. Mrs. King came up from Viper, all the way in the mid-day -sun, to say that, "Of course, every one <em>must</em> see, that the farther -Miss Denis was from old associations, the better, and that her room -was ready." Mrs. Graham arrived from Chatham with the same story; -but in the end, Helen went to Mrs. Home, going across with her after -dark, like a girl walking in a trance. Sleep, kind sleep, did come to -her, thanks to a strong opiate, and thus, for a time, she and her new -acquaintance, grief, were parted. The pretty bungalow on the side of - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 180]</span> - -the hill, so bright and full of life only last night, was dark and -silent now. One inmate slept a sleep to deaden sorrow, the other lay -alone upon the distant mainland, under the silent stars, within sound -of the sea—and the new cemetery contained its first grave.</p> - -<hr class="r15" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXIII">CHAPTER XXIII.<br /><br /> -<span class="small">"WAS IT POSSIBLE!"</span></h2> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container36"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="blockquot"> -<div class="verse first-line">"Joy comes and goes, hope ebbs and flows,</div> -<div class="verse indent36">Like the wave.</div> -<div class="verse indent4">Change doth unknit the tranquil strength of man;</div> -<div class="verse indent12">Love lends life a little grace,</div> -<div class="verse indent12">A few sad smiles; and then,</div> -<div class="verse indent12">Both are laid in one cold place,</div> -<div class="verse indent36">In the grave."</div> - </div> - </div> - </div> -</div> -<div class="sig-left60"><span style="margin-left: 1em;"><cite>M. Arnold.</cite></span></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Days</span> crawled by, and Helen gradually and painfully began to realize -her lot. Hers was a silent, stony grief (now that the first torrent of -tears had been shed) of that undemonstrative, reserved nature, that it -is so difficult to alleviate, and that shrinks from outward sympathy. -People (ladies) came to her, and sat with her, and held her hand, and -wept, but she did not; this grief that had come upon her unawares, -seemed almost to have turned her to stone. She opened her heart to Mrs. -Home only; and in answer to affectionate attempts at consolation, she -said,—</p> - -<p>"I sometimes sit and wonder, wonder if it is <em>true</em>! You see, Mrs. -Home, my case is so different to others. Now, if you were to lose one -child—which heaven forbid—you have still eight remaining; if Colonel -Home was taken from you, you have your children; but <em>I</em> have no one -left. Papa was all I had, and I am alone in the world; I can scarcely -believe it!"</p> - -<p>"My dear, you must not say so! you have many friends, and friends are -sometimes far better than one's own kin. Then there is your aunt. I -wrote to her myself last mail."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 181]</span></p> - -<p>"Aunt Julia! She is worse than nobody. She is an utter stranger, in -reality, a complete woman of the world. She and I never got on; she was -always saying hard things about <em>him</em>!"</p> - -<p>"Well, you won't be with her long, you know! and you cannot say that -you are alone in the world; you know very well that you will not be -alone for long, you understand," squeezing her fingers significantly as -she spoke.</p> - -<p>Helen did understand, and coloured vividly. It seemed to her almost a -sin to think of Gilbert Lisle now, when every thought was dedicated to -her father, when all ideas of love or a lover had been, as it were, -swept out of her mind by the blast of her recent and terrible calamity.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Home noticed the blush, but again attributed its cause to the -wrong person.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Colonel Denis' effects were sold off in the usual manner; his -furniture, boat, and guns, were disposed of, his servants dismissed, -and his papers examined. And what discoveries were not made in that -battered old despatch-box! Not of money owing, or startling unpaid -bills, but of large sums due to him; borrowed and forgotten by -impecunious acquaintances—one thousand rupees here, three thousand -rupees there, merely acknowledged by careless, long-forgotten I. O. -U.'s. Then there were receipts for money paid,—drained away yearly by -his father's and wife's creditors—his very pension was mortgaged. How -little he appeared to have spent upon himself. All his life long he had -been toiling hard for other people, who gaily squandered in a week, -what he had accumulated in a year; a thankless task! a leaden burden!</p> - -<p>Apparently he had begun to save of late, presumably for Helen; but, -including the auction, all that could be placed to his daughter's -credit in the bank was only four hundred odd pounds!</p> - -<p>"Say fifteen pounds a year," said Colonel Home, looking blankly at Mr. -Creery.</p> - -<p>"I know he intended to insure his life, he told me so last week."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 182]</span></p> - -<p>"Ah! if he only had. What is to become of the poor girl?" continued -Colonel Home; "fifteen pounds a year won't even keep her in clothes, -let alone in food and house-room. I believe he had very few relations -in England, and see how some of his friends out here have fleeced him!"</p> - -<p>"They ought to be made pay up," returned Mr. Creery. "I'll see to -<em>that</em>," he added with stern, determined face.</p> - -<p>"How can they pay up? The fellows who signed those," touching some I. -O. U.'s, "are dead. Here's another, for whom Denis backed a bill; he -went off to Australia years ago. I wonder Tom Denis had not a worse -opinion of his fellow-creatures."</p> - -<p>"In many ways, Tom was a fool; his heart was too soft, his eyes were -always blind to his own interests: some people soon found that out."</p> - -<p>"Well! what is to become of his daughter? That is what puzzles me," -said his listener anxiously. "She is a good girl, and uncommonly -pretty!"</p> - -<p>"Yes; her face is her fortune, and I hope it will stand to her," -rejoined Mr. Creery, dubiously. "But, to set herself off, she should go -into fine society and wear fine clothes, and she has no means to start -her in company where she would meet a likely match. As they say in my -country, 'Ye canna whistle without an upper lip.'"</p> - -<p>"She might not have <em>far</em> to go for a husband," returned Colonel Home -significantly.</p> - -<p>"Ah, well! I believe I <em>know</em> what you mean, but that man will be -needing a fortune. He is too cannie to marry 'a penniless lass without -a lang pedigree!'"</p> - -<p>"My wife has her fancies," said Colonel Home, "and thinks a good deal -of him."</p> - -<p>"So does mine," returned the other, "and has <em>her</em> fancies too; but all -the same—between you and me, Home—I never liked the fellow; you know -who I mean. He is just a gay popinjay, taking his turn out of everybody -that comes in his way."</p> - -<p>(Observe, cannie Scotchman as he was, that all this time, he had never -mentioned any <em>name</em>.)</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 183]</span></p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Several doors were opened to Helen, offering her a home, but she -steadily resisted all invitations. She felt that she would be occupying -an anomalous position by remaining on at Port Blair, without having any -real claim on any one in the settlement. If there had been some small -children to teach,—save those in the native school,—or if there were -any means by which she could have earned her livelihood, it would have -been different; but, of course, in a place like the Andamans, there was -no such opening. The community were extremely anxious to keep her among -them, and were kinder to her than words could express. Mrs. Graham -besought her most earnestly to remain with her as a sister, and urged -her petition repeatedly.</p> - -<p>"The favour will be conferred by <em>you</em>, my dear, and you know it," she -said. "Think of the long, lonely days I spend at Chatham, cut off from -all society in bad weather, and in the monsoon, I sometimes don't see -another white woman for weeks. Imagine the boon your company would be -to me. Remember that your father was an old friend of Dick's, and say -that you will try us for at least a year. We will do our very best to -make you happy."</p> - -<p>And other suggestions were delicately placed before Helen. Would she -remain, not as Miss Denis, but as <em>Mrs.</em> somebody? To one and all, she -made the same reply, she must go home, at least, she must go back to -England; her aunt had written, and desired her to return at the first -opportunity, and her aunt was her nearest relation now, and all her -future plans were in her hands. Mrs. Home was returning in March, they -would sail together.</p> - -<p>"If I were not obliged to place Tom and Billy at school, and see after -my big boys, I would not <em>allow</em> you to leave at all, Helen," said her -friend and hostess decidedly, "but would insist on your remaining with -us as one of our family, a kind of eldest daughter."</p> - -<p>Nevertheless, Mrs. Home cherished strong but secret hopes that her -young <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">protégée</i> would stay at Port Blair, in spite of her own -departure. Was not Mr. Quentin expected from Camorta by the very next -mail?</p> - -<p>Mrs. Creery would have liked Helen to remain with some one (not -herself, for she was not given to hospitality). She considered that - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 184]</span> - -she would be a serious loss to the community, and was quite fond -of her in her own way. Why should she not marry Jim Quentin? was a -question she often asked herself in idle, empty moments. It would be -a grand match for a penniless girl; a wedding would be a pleasant -novelty, no matter how quiet, and she herself was prepared to give the -affair her countenance, and to endow the young couple with a set of -plated nut-crackers that had scarcely ever been used! One day, roaming -rather aimlessly through the bazaar, she came across "Ibrahim," Mr. -Quentin's butler, and was not the woman to lose a rich opportunity of -cross-examining such an important functionary. She beckoned him aside -with an imperious wave of the hand, and commenced the conversation by -asking a very foolish question, "When did you hear from your master?" -seeing that there had been no mail in, since she had seen Ibrahim last, -"when is he expected?"</p> - -<p>"Mr. Quentin not my master any more," he returned, with dignity, "I -take leave that time Sahib going Nicobars."</p> - -<p>"Having made your fortune?" drawing down the corner of her mouth as she -spoke.</p> - -<p>"I plenty poor man, where fortune getting?" he replied, with an air of -surprised and injured innocence.</p> - -<p>"Stuff and nonsense! you know you butlers make heaps out of bachelors -like Mr. Quentin, who never look at their accounts, but just pay down -piles of rupees, like the idiots they are; and what about Mr. Lisle?"</p> - -<p>Ibrahim grinned and displayed an ample row of ivory teeth.</p> - -<p>"Ah," with animation, "that very good gentleman, never making no -bobbery! Plenty money got!"</p> - -<p>"Plenty money! How do you know?"</p> - -<p>"First time coming paying half—after two weeks paying <em>all</em>;" in -answer to the lady's gesture of astonishment. "Truth I telling! wages, -boats, bazaar, and <em>all</em>!"</p> - -<p>"And what did Mr. Quentin say?"</p> - -<p>"Oh," laughing, "telling Lisle, Sahib plenty rupees got, I poor devil! -Mr. Quentin very funny gentleman, making too much bobbery, swearing too -much, throwing boots and bottles, no money giving; I plenty fraiding, - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 185]</span> - -and so I taking leave," concluded Ibrahim majestically.</p> - -<p>This little side-light on Mr. Quentin's manners was a revelation to -Mrs. Creery. And so Lisle was <em>really</em> rich! the dinner she had graced -at Aberdeen (on a mutton day), had been given at <em>his</em> expense, and all -the establishment of servants, coolies, and boatmen had been maintained -by him. She pondered much over this discovery—and, marvellous to -relate, kept it to herself.</p> - -<p>Colonel Denis had now been dead about two months, and his daughter was -once more to be seen out of doors, and walking about the island; but -how different she looked, what a change a few weeks had made in her -appearance. She was clad in a plain black dress, her eyes were dim and -sunken, her face was thin and haggard, her figure had lost its nice -rounded outlines. She was trying to accustom herself to her new lot in -life; to that empty bungalow on the hill-side, that she never passed -without a shudder, for did it not represent the wreck of her home?</p> - -<p>Something else had also been scattered to the winds, blown away into -space like gossamer-web in a gale, I mean that airy fabric known as -"Love's Young Dream."</p> - -<p>She had been dwelling on four words, more than she herself imagined; on -the promise, "I shall come back," breathed under the palm-trees that -night, that saw "flying between the cold moon and the earth, Cupid all -armed!"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Helen occasionally spent a day with Mrs. Graham or Mrs. Durand; they -liked to have her with them, and endeavoured by every means in their -power, to distract her mind from dwelling, as it did incessantly, on -her recent loss. One morning, as she sat working in Mrs. Durand's cool, -shady drawing-room, doing her best to seem interested in her hostess' -remarks, they heard some one coming rapidly up the walk, and Captain -Durand sprang up the steps, and entered, holding a bundle of letters in -his hand.</p> - -<p>"The mail is in from Rangoon," he said; "Rangoon and the Nicobars."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 186]</span></p> - -<p>If he and his wife had not been wholly engrossed in sorting their -correspondence, they would doubtless have noticed, that their young -lady guest had suddenly become very red, and then very white, but they -were examining their letters, with the gusto of people to whom such -things are both precious and rare.</p> - -<p>"By the way," exclaimed Captain Durand, looking up at last, "Quentin is -back; I met him on the pier."</p> - -<p>Helen almost held her breath, her heart stood still, whilst her hostess -put into words a question she could not have articulated to save her -life.</p> - -<p>"And Gilbert Lisle, did you see him?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, no! he has gone on to Japan," responded her husband, as he -carelessly tore open a note. "He is a regular bird of passage!"</p> - -<p>"Ah, I <em>thought</em> we should not see him again," rejoined Mrs. Durand, -with a tinge of regret in her voice.</p> - -<p>Helen listened as if she were listening to something about a stranger, -she bent her eyes steadily on her work, and endeavoured to compose her -trembling lips. Mrs. Durand, happening to glance at her, as, opening -an envelope, she said, "Why, here's a note from him!" was struck -by the strange, dead pallor of her face, and by the look of almost -desperate expectation in her eyes—eyes now raised, and bent greedily -on the letter in her own hand. This change of colour, this eager -look, was a complete revelation to that lady, who paused, drew in her -breath, and asked herself, with a thrill of apprehension, "Could it be -possible that Helen had lost her heart to Gilbert Lisle? Was <em>she</em> the -attraction that had held him so fast at Port Blair?"</p> - -<p>As she stared in a dazed, stupid sort of way, her young friend dropped -her eyes, bent her head, and resumed her work with feverish industry; -but, in truth, her shaking fingers were pricking themselves with the -needle, instead of putting in a single stitch!</p> - -<p>"A note from Lisle? And pray what has he to say?" inquired Captain -Durand, ignorant of this by-play. "Here," holding out his hand, "give -it to me, and I'll read it."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 187]</span></p> -<br /> -<div class="blockquot"> -<p class="sig5">"Camorta, March 2nd.<br /></p> - -<p>"DEAR MRS. DURAND,—As I have changed my plans, and am not returning -to Port Blair, I send you a line to bid you good-bye, and to beg you -to be good enough to accept my small sailing-boat which lies over at -Aberdeen. You will find her much more handy for getting about in, than -the detachment gig. My nets and fishing-gear I bequeath to Durand. I -am going on to Japan, <em>viâ</em> rangoon and Singapore, and shall make my -way home by San Francisco. Hoping that we shall meet in England ere -long, and with kind regards to all friends at Ross,<br /></p> -</div> - -<p class="sig-left45">"I remain,</p> -<p class="sig-left50">"Yours sincerely,</p> -<p class="sig-left55">"GILBERT LISLE."</p> - -<p>"By Jove!" exclaimed Captain Durand, "that smart cutter of his is the -very thing for you, Em, and the fishing-tackle will suit me down to the -ground. I like Lisle uncommonly, but," grinning significantly as he -spoke, "this note of his, consoles me wonderfully for his departure."</p> - -<p>Yes, so it might—but who was to console Helen? She felt like some -drowning wretch, from whom their only plank has just been torn, or as -a shipwrecked sailor, who had painfully clambered out of reach of the -waves and been once more cruelly tossed back among them.</p> - -<p>It was only now at this moment of piercing anguish that she thoroughly -realized how much she had been clinging to Gilbert Lisle's promise, how -steadfastly she had believed in his words, "I shall come back."</p> - -<p>With a feeling of utter desolation in her heart, with her ideal and -her hopes alike shattered, what a task was hers to maintain an outward -appearance of indifference and composure!</p> - -<p>After a time Captain Durand went off to the mess, to hear the news, -and to look over the papers, leaving the two ladies <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">tête-à-tête</i>; his -wife affected to peruse her letters, reading such little scraps of them -aloud from time to time as she thought might amuse her companion, but -she was not enjoying them as usual. That look she had surprised in the -girl's eyes, haunted her painfully. She longed to go over to her, and - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 188]</span> - -put her arm round her neck and whisper in her ear,—</p> - -<p>"What is it? Tell me all about it, confide in <em>me</em>."</p> - -<p>But somehow she dared not, bold as she was.—Recent grief had aged -Helen, and given her a gravity far beyond her years, and as she looked -across at that marble face, those downcast eyes, and busy fingers, she -found her kind, warm heart fail her. Whatever the hurt was, ay, were it -mortal, that girl meant to bear it alone.</p> - -<p>She was more affectionate and sympathetic to her young friend than -usual, smoothed her hot forehead, kissed her, caressed her, and whilst -they sat together in the twilight in the verandah, looking out on the -dusky sky, found courage to murmur,—</p> - -<p>"Dearest Helen, remember that I am your friend, not merely in name -only. Should you ever have any—any little trouble such as girls have -sometimes, you will come and share it with me, won't you? I am older, -more experienced by years and years, and I will always keep your -secrets, exactly as if they were my own!"</p> - -<p>This was undoubtedly a strong hint; nevertheless, her listener merely -smiled and nodded her head, but made no other sign. "<em>Little</em> trouble!" -She was on the rack all day long. She bore the torture of her hostess's -soft whispers and tender, sympathetic looks, which told her that she -guessed <em>all</em>. She bore the brightly-lit dinner-table, and Captain -Durand's cheerful recounting of the most thrilling news. She even -endured his eloquent praises of Gilbert Lisle without flinching. Little -did her gallant host guess the effort that those smiles and answers -cost her. Good, commonplace man! he had got over his brief love affair -fifteen years previously, and had forgotten it as completely as a tale -that is told. Mrs. Durand had a more vivid recollection of her own -experiences,—and a share of that fellow-feeling that makes us all -akin. She was amazed at Helen's fortitude, especially when she glanced -back over the past and remembered (and I hope this will not be put down -to her discredit) that when <em>she</em> had seen the announcement of the -marriage of her first fancy in the paper, she had spent the remainder -of the day in hysterics and the subsequent week in tears. She walked - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 189]</span> - -back with Helen, and left her herself at Colonel Home's door, and bade -her good-night with unusual tenderness. Then she retraced her steps, -arm-in-arm with her husband, whose mind was abruptly recalled from -planning a long day's sea-fishing, by her saying rather suddenly,—</p> - -<p>"I know <em>now</em> why Helen refused Dr. Parkes!"</p> - -<p>"Oh!" contemptuously, "I could have told you the reason long ago, if -you had asked me. Because he was the same age as her father!"</p> - -<p>"No, you dear, stupid man—but this is quite private. I am sure," -lowering her voice, "that she likes Gilbert Lisle."</p> - -<p>A long whistle was the only reply to his information for some seconds, -and then he said,—</p> - -<p>"Now what has put <em>that</em> into your head?"</p> - -<p>"Her face when you came in and told us that he was not coming back. I -cannot get it out of my mind, it was only a momentary expression, she -rallied again at once; but that moment told me a tale that she has -hitherto guarded as a secret."</p> - -<p>"You are as full of fancies and ridiculous, romantic ideas as if you -were seventeen instead of——"</p> - -<p>"Don't name it!" she interrupted hastily, "the very leaves here have -ears!"</p> - -<p>Her husband laughed explosively, and presently said,—</p> - -<p>"I never knew such a woman as you are for jumping at conclusions. She -had a twinge of face-ache, that was all."</p> - -<p>"A twinge of heart-ache, you mean. But what is the use of talking to -<em>you</em>?—you are as matter-of-fact as a Monday morning. And now, pray -tell me, though I suppose I might just as well ask Billy Home, did -Gilbert Lisle ever show her any attention?"</p> - -<p>"Ha—hum—well, do you think that saving her life could be called an -attention?"</p> - -<p>"Yes," eagerly; "yes, of course! I'd forgotten about that!"</p> - -<p>"And another time he picked her off the mainland and brought her home -in what is now your boat, through a series of white squalls."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 190]</span></p> - -<p>"Did he really?" the really, as it were, in large capitals.</p> - -<p>"And he was there a few times. But you need not get any ideas into your -head about <em>him</em>, it was always Quentin, he was always hanging about -her in that heavy persistent way of his—it was Quentin, I tell you!"</p> - -<p>"And <em>I</em> tell you," responded his wife emphatically, "that it was, and -is, Gilbert Lisle. I recollect his saying, the night of the ball, what -a nice girl she was; or <em>I</em> said it, and he agreed, which is the same -thing. And I remember perfectly, now that I think of it, noticing them -leaning over a gate, and looking just like a pair of lovers."</p> - -<p>A loud and rudely incredulous haw-haw from Captain Durand was his only -reply.</p> - -<p>"You may laugh as much as you like, but Mr. Lisle told me that he would -gladly give a thousand pounds to get out of the Nicobars trip, and the -last thing he said to me, as he bade me good-bye, was, 'I shall see -you again soon.' I remember all these things now, and put two and two -together, but I cannot make it out—I am utterly puzzled. Perhaps Mr. -Quentin will be able to throw some light on the subject!"</p> - -<p>"Quentin wants to marry her himself."</p> - -<p>"Not he! He only wished to be a dog in the manger, to engross the only -pretty girl in the place, that was all. I know him <em>well</em>. And now that -she has been left an orphan, without a fraction, he has as much idea of -making her Mrs. Quentin, as he has of flying over the moon!"</p> - -<p>"All right, Em, time will tell.—I bet you a new bonnet that this time -next year, she will be Mrs. Q."</p> - -<p>"No more than she will be Queen of England," returned his wife with -emphasis. This was positively the last word, and Mrs. Durand's -property, for they had now reached the steps of their own bungalow, and -consequently the end of their journey.</p> - -<hr class="r15" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 191]</span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXIV">CHAPTER XXIV.<br /><br /> -<span class="small">"FAREWELL, PORT BLAIR."</span></h2> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container36"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="blockquot"> -<div class="verse">"Farewell at once—for once, for all—and ever."</div> - </div> - </div> - </div> -</div> -<div class="sig-left60"><span style="margin-left: 1em;"><cite>Richard II.</cite></span></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Durand's</span> surmises were correct.</p> - -<p>A few days after James Quentin's return, without any marked haste he -went over and called on Mrs. Home and Miss Denis. The former was an -arrant little match-maker, and was delighted to see that <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">débonnaire</i> -face once more. He was handsome, rich (?), and agreeable, he had been -devoted to her young friend previous to his departure for the Nicobars, -and, <em>of course</em>, it would be all settled now. With this idea in her -head, she presently effaced herself so as to give the gentleman ample -opportunity for a <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">tête-à-tête</i>. She even kept Tom and Billy out of the -way, and this was no mean feat.</p> - -<p>Mr. Quentin murmured some polite stereotyped regrets, then he alluded -in rather strong language to "that vile hole Camorta." As he talked -he stared, stared hard at Helen, and wondered at the change he saw -in her appearance. She was haggard and thin; of her lovely colour -not a vestige remained, and the outlines of her face were sharp, and -had lost their pretty contour. She looked like a flower that had -been beaten down by the storm. Never in all his experience had he -beheld such a complete and sudden alteration in any one; he was glad -he had never thought of her seriously, and as to Lisle, he was well -out of it (thanks to his friend James Quentin); <em>he</em> took everything -so seriously he would have been sure to have got the halter over his -head, and to have blundered into an imprudent match. His yes meant -yes; his no, no. Now he himself had a lightness of method, a nebulous -vagueness surrounded his most tender speeches; at a moment's notice, -he could slip off his chains, and run his head out of the noose, and -always without any outward unpleasantness—that was the best of the -affair. Gilbert Lisle was different, he was not used to playing with -such brittle toys as girls' hearts. Well, this girl had entirely lost - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 192]</span> - -her beauty, so thought her visitor, as he contemplated her critically -and conversed of malaria and Malays. She had not a penny, and no -connections; he supposed, when she went back to England, she would -go out as a governess, or a companion, or music-teacher. He entirely -approved of young women being independent and earning their own bread. -If there was a subscription got up for her passage money, he meant to -do the handsome thing, and give fifty rupees (5<i>l.</i>).</p> - -<p>"I suppose you were surprised to hear about Lisle?" he said at last.</p> - -<p>"Yes," looking at her questioner with complete composure.</p> - -<p>"He left me at Camorta, you know. He is a queer, eccentric beggar, and -you would never suppose, to see him in his old fishing-kit, and with -his hands as brown and horny as a common boatman's, that he had been in -the Coldstreams, and was a regular London swell."</p> - -<p>Helen made no reply, and he continued glibly,—</p> - -<p>"He is considered a tremendous catch; they say his elder brother is -dying at Algiers—consumption—but he is not easy to please!"</p> - -<p>"Is he not?" she echoed with studied indifference.</p> - -<p>"No.—By Jove! Mrs. Creery did not think much of him; she was awfully -rough on him. How all you people did snub him! Many a good laugh I had -in my sleeve!" and he smiled at the recollection.</p> - -<p>"I do not think that many people snubbed him," returned Helen with a -flushed cheek and flashing eye.</p> - -<p>"Well, perhaps <em>you</em> did not," returned Mr. Quentin, somewhat abashed. -"You know, you never snubbed any one but me," with a mental note that -she should live to be sorry for that same. "Lisle made me promise to -keep his secret. He wished to be accepted for himself for once, without -any <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">arrière pensée</i> of money or title; and by George, he got what he -wanted with a vengeance—eh? I don't think he will try it again in a -hurry. He found his level,—the very bottom of the ladder, something -quite new!" and again he laughed heartily at the recollection.</p> - -<p>"I suppose it was," with elaborate indifference.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 193]</span></p> - -<p>"He had been having a big shoot in the Terai before he came here. He -was awfully taken with this place, the queer, unconventional life, and -stayed on and on greatly to my surprise. Many a time I wondered what he -saw in the place, though, of course, I was delighted to have him. My -luck was dead in." (So it was, <i xml:lang="la" lang="la">vide</i> Ibrahim's domestic accounts!)</p> - -<p>"Yes, of course it was pleasant for <em>you</em>," admitted Helen.</p> - -<p>"He should have been a poor man; he had so much energy and resource, -and such Spartan tastes. Ten times a day I wished that we could change -places."</p> - -<p>"I daresay," returned the young lady rather drily.</p> - -<p>There was something—was it a tone of lurking scorn?—in this "I -daresay!" that irritated her listener, who instantly resolved to -administer a rap on the knuckles in return.</p> - -<p>"His father is wild with him for roving about the world; he wants him -to marry and settle."</p> - -<p>"Yes?"</p> - -<p>"I believe he has an heiress in cotton-wool for him at home. I wish my -governor was as thoughtful!"</p> - -<p>"No doubt he knows that <em>you</em> are quite equal to finding such a -treasure for yourself," returned Miss Denis, with a very perceptible -touch of sarcasm.</p> - -<p>Mr. Quentin laughed rather boisterously. It was new to him to hear -sharp speeches from ladies' lips, and now, looking at his watch and -rising with a sudden start, he said,—</p> - -<p>"I declare I must be going. I had no idea it was so late. I've an -appointment (imaginary) at four o'clock, and I've only two minutes. -Well," now taking her hand, "and so you are off on Wednesday? I may -see you before that, if not, good-bye," holding her fingers with a -lingering pressure, and looking down into her eyes as if he felt -unutterable regret, quite beyond the reach of words; but in truth he -was conscious of nothing, beyond a keen desire to make a happy exit, -and to get away respectably (perhaps he had also a lurking craving for -a "peg"!). "Good-bye, I hope we shall meet again some day in England. -Perhaps you would drop me a line?" a query he had often found to have - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 194]</span> - -an excellent and soothing effect at similar partings.</p> - -<p>Helen took no notice of the suggestion, but merely bowed her head and -said very quietly,—</p> - -<p>"Good-bye, Mr. Quentin, good-bye."</p> - -<p>And then the gentleman took himself away in exaggerated haste, -muttering as he hurried down to the pier,—</p> - -<p>"How white she looked, and how stiff she was. I'm hanged if I don't -believe she had a weakness for Lisle, after all. If <em>that's</em> the case, -this humble, insignificant individual has put a pretty big spoke in her -wheel."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>It is almost needless to mention that Helen was now accustomed to daily -interviews with Mrs. Creery, and to being cross-examined as to how she -had been left, whether Mr. Quentin had said "anything," and what she -"was going to do with all her coloured dresses?"</p> - -<p>Eliza Creery was a pertinacious woman, and had not lost sight of her -designs upon the black silk gown (neither had Helen).</p> - -<p>"My dear," she said, "if you ask my advice," the last thing that was -likely to occur to her listener, "you will sell all your things. They -will be a perfect boon here, and it is not unusual in cases of sudden -mourning, and utter destitution, such as yours." Helen winced and grew -very pale. "I really think that you might have had this made with a -little more style," touching her black dress. "But now," seriously, -"<em>what</em> about your others?"</p> - -<p>"Lizzie Caggett was asking about my cottons."</p> - -<p>"Yes?" stiffening with apprehension.</p> - -<p>"I told her that I would be only too glad to let her have them. There -are one or two that I cannot bear to look at. <em>He</em> liked them," she -added under her breath.</p> - -<p>"And for how much? What did you ask for them?"</p> - -<p>"Why, nothing, of course!" returned Helen in amazement.</p> - -<p>"Then she shan't have them. I shall not stand by and see you fleeced. I -shall certainly speak to her mother. What a horrible, grasping, greedy -girl; taking advantage of your innocence—she would not get round <em>me</em> - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 195]</span> - -like that!" (Mrs. Creery never spoke a truer word).</p> - -<p>"But they are useless, quite useless to me," exclaimed Helen.</p> - -<p>"Rubbish! nonsense! is <em>money</em> useless to any one? Did you give her -anything else?" demanded the matron sharply.</p> - -<p>"Only my best hat, and a few new pairs of <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">gants de Suède</i>."</p> - -<p>"This must be stopped <em>at once</em>. She has no conscience, no principle. -You will be giving her your white silk next, you foolish girl. You -must think of yourself, you have hardly a penny to live on, and are as -lavish as a princess, and utterly indifferent to your own interests. -Now, if you had spoken to <em>me</em>, I could have disposed of your cottons -and muslins for ready money. As it is, I shall take your black silk, -your white silk, your blue surah," running over these items with -infinite unction, "and give you a good price for them, considering that -they are second-hand. Your white satin low body would be too small, I'm -afraid; and your gloves are not my size (Mrs. Creery took sevens, and -Helen sixes); but I'll have your pinafore and brown hat."</p> - -<p>"But indeed, thanking you very much for thinking of me, I do not wish -to sell anything. Some day I may want these things, and have no money -to replace them, don't you see?"</p> - -<p>Mrs. Creery failed to see the matter in that light at all, and argued -and stormed; nevertheless, Helen was adamant.</p> - -<p>"Aunt Julia would not be pleased, I'm sure," she said firmly. "And I -really could not do it, really I would not, Mrs. Creery."</p> - -<p>"And I had such a fancy for your little black lace and jet -shoulder-cape!" whimpered that lady, on the verge of tears.</p> - -<p>Helen paused, looked at her hesitatingly, and said,—</p> - -<p>"I wonder if you would be very much offended if—if I——" here she -broke down.</p> - -<p>But Mrs. Creery knew exactly what she wished to say, and rushed to her -rescue.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 196]</span></p> - -<p>"Yes, that's it exactly," she cried eagerly, "a <em>capital</em> idea, we will -exchange! I'll take your cape, which would be brown next year, and -give you something you will like far better, something that won't wear -out, and will serve to remind you of the six months you spent at Port -Blair." (As if Helen needed anything to remind her of that.) "Something -that, I'm sure, you will be delighted to have."</p> - -<p>On these conditions the barter was agreed to, and the elder lady folded -up and carried away the cape. Doubtless she feared that Miss Denis -might yet change her mind.</p> - -<p>The same afternoon Mrs. Creery's ayah sauntered down with a small -paper parcel in her hand, and when it was opened, Helen discovered an -exceedingly trumpery pair of shell bracelets, tied with grass-green -ribbon—total value of these ornaments, one Government rupee, in other -words, eighteen-pence!</p> - -<p>Mrs. Home, who had heard of the fate of the little shoulder-cape, -became quite red with indignation, and was loud (for her) in her -denunciation of Mrs. Creery's meanness. But Helen was no party to her -anger and scorn, nay, for the first time for many weeks, she laughed -as merrily and as heartily as she had been wont to do in the days that -were no more.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The eventful Wednesday came that brought the English letters, and took -away Mrs. Home and Helen. The whole community rowed out to the <i>Scotia</i> -to see them off, laden with books and flowers, and eau de Cologne and -fruit. When I say the whole community, Mr. Quentin was the exception -that proved the rule. Jim Quentin was conspicuous by his absence, -and neither note nor bouquet arrived as his deputy. Mrs. Home was -keenly alive to his defection and extremely put out, though her anger -smouldered as fire within her, and she never breathed a word to Helen, -and thought that she had never seen a girl bear a disappointment so -beautifully.</p> - -<p>There was maiden dignity! There was fortitude! There was self-control! -Mrs. Durand hung about her friend with little gifts and stolen -caresses,—she had not failed to notice that Apollo was not among the - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 197]</span> - -crowd, and had whispered to her husband as they stood together, "<em>He</em> -is not here, you see, and the bonnet is <em>mine</em>."</p> - -<p>To Helen she said,—</p> - -<p>"Mind you write to me often; be sure you do not drift away from me, my -dear. When I go home, you have promised to come and see me, and, you -know, you would be going to my people now only they are in Italy at -present. Be sure you don't forget me, Helen."</p> - -<p>"Is it likely?" she returned. "Have I so many friends? Do not be afraid -that I shall not write to you often, perhaps too often. I shall look -out for your letters far more anxiously than you will for mine, and is -it likely that I can ever forget you? You know I never could."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Creery was present of course, and when time was up, and the bell -rang for visitors to descend to their boats, she actually secured the -last embrace, saying as she kissed Helen on either cheek,—</p> - -<p>"So sorry you are going, dear. Of course you will write? I have your -address—15, Upper Cream Street. It has all been very sad for you, but -life is uncertain;" then—as a <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">bonne bouche</i> reserved for the last, a -kind of stimulant for the voyage—she added impressively, "My sister, -Lady Grubb, will call on you in London—and now, really, good-bye." One -more final whisper yet in her ear, positively the last word, "Quentin -has treated you disgracefully."</p> - -<p>A pressure of the hand and she was gone.</p> - -<p>The steamer's paddles began to churn, to grind the water, the boats -rowed on alongside, their occupants waving handkerchiefs, till the -<i>Scotia</i> gradually forged ahead and left them all behind.</p> - -<p>Helen leant over the bulwarks, watching them and waving to the last. -How much she liked them all, how good they had been to her! As they -gradually fell far behind, even the final view of Mrs. Creery's broad -back and mushroom topee caused her a pang of unexpected regret.</p> - -<p>The surrounding hills, woods, and water looked lovelier than she had -ever seen them, as if they were saying, "How can you bid us good-bye? -Why do you leave us?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 198]</span></p> - -<p>She gazed with straining vision towards the graveyard on the hill, -now fading so fast from eyes that would never see it more. Presently -Mount Harriet became sensibly diminished, then Ross itself dwindled -to a mere shadowy speck; Helen stood alone at the taffrail, taking an -eternal farewell of these sunny islands, which had once been to her -as an earthly paradise, where the happiest hours of her life had been -spent, and the darkest—where she had first made acquaintance with -love and death and grief! The little-known Andamans were gradually -fading—fading—fading. As she stood with her eyes earnestly fixed upon -the last faint blue outline, they were gone, merged in the horizon, and -lost to sight. She would never more behold them, save in her dreams!</p> - -<p>With this thought painfully before her mind she turned slowly away, -and went below to her own cabin, and shutting fast the door, she threw -herself down on her berth and wept bitterly.</p> - -<hr class="r15" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXV">CHAPTER XXV.<br /><br /> -<span class="small">THE STEERAGE PASSENGER.</span></h2> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container38-5"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="blockquot"> -<div class="verse">"Pray you sit by us, and tell's a tale."</div> - </div> - </div> - </div> -</div> -<div class="sig-left60"><span style="margin-left: 1em;"><cite>Twelfth Night.</cite></span></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">"Mrs. Home</span> and party" were to be seen in the list of names of those -who sailed from Calcutta in the steamer <em>Palestine</em> on the 20th of -March. There were not many other passengers, but those on board were -sociable and friendly; and the old days, when Bengal and Madras did not -speak, paraded different sides of the deck, and only met in the saloon -at the point of the knife (and fork), are gone to return no more. The -weather was at first exceedingly rough, the water "plenty jumping," in -the phraseology of Mrs. Home's ayah. She, like her mistress, became -a captive to Neptune almost as soon as the engines were in motion. -Once out on the open sea she lay for days on the floor, rolled up -in her sarée like a bolster or a mummy, uttering pitiful moans and - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 199]</span> - -invocations to her relations. Helen was a capital sailor and took -entire charge of Tom and Billy, and was invaluable to her sick friend, -upon whom she waited with devoted attention, tempting her with beef-tea -and toast and other warranted sea-refreshments.</p> - -<p>Not a few of her fellow-passengers would have been pleased to while -away the empty hours, in dalliance with the tall girl in black, but -she showed no desire for society, and as it was whispered that she had -recently lost some near relation, and was <em>really</em> in deep grief, she -was left to herself, and to the company of Tom and Billy.—It seemed -quite marvellous to the community, that such a pretty girl should be -returning to England <em>unmarried</em>. They shrugged their shoulders, lifted -their eyebrows, and wondered to one another whether it was because -<em>she</em> was too hard to please, or whether the community at Port Blair -were stolid semi-savages?</p> - -<p>The first little piece of excitement that broke the monotony of the -voyage, was the discovery of a stowaway in one of the boats, who was -not starved out till they had passed Galle. He proved to be a deserter -from a regiment in Calcutta, and was promptly sent below to stoke, -as extra fireman, and doubtless he found that employment (especially -in the Red Sea) even less to his taste than drilling in the cool of -the morning on the Midan near Fort William. The Red Sea was as calm -as the proverbial mill-pond, and the motion of the steamer almost -imperceptible. The ayah recovered from her state of torpor, and Mrs. -Home actually made her appearance at meals, and joined the social -circle on deck. Every evening there was singing, the songs being -chiefly contributed by the ladies and one or two German gentlemen -<i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">en route</i> from Burmah to the Fatherland. Passengers who could not, -or would not, perform vocally, were called upon to tell stories, and -those hot April nights, as they throbbed past the dark Arabian coast, -were long remembered by many on board. Chief among the entertainers -was the captain of the <em>Palestine</em>. He related more than one yarn of -thrilling adventures by sea. The German merchants told weird legends, -and episodes of the late great war, a grizzled colonel gave his - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 200]</span> - -experiences of the Mutiny, a subaltern his first exploit out after -tigers, but the most popular <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">raconteur</i> of them all was the first -officer, Mr. Waters. When he appeared, and took his seat among the -company after tea, there was an immediate and clamorous call for a -story—a story.</p> - -<p>"Now, Mr. Waters, we have been waiting for you!"</p> - -<p>Apropos of the stowaway, he recounted the following tale, to which -Billy Home, who was seated on Helen's knee, with his arm encircling her -neck, listened with very mixed sensations:—</p> - -<p>"When I was second officer of the <em>Black Swan</em>, from Melbourne to -London," he began promptly—yes, he liked telling yarns,—"we had one -uncommonly queer trip, a trip that I shall not forget in a hurry, no, -and I don't fancy that many of those who were on board will forget it -either! It was the year of the Paris Exhibition, and all the world -and his wife were crowding home. We had every berth full, and people -doubled up anywhere, even sleeping on the floor of the saloon. We left -port with three hundred cabin, and seventy-five steerage passengers. At -first the weather was as if it were made to order, and all went well -till about the third night out, when the disturbance began, at least, -it began, as far as <em>I</em> was concerned. I was knocked up about an hour -after I had come off watch, and out of my first sleep, by some one -thundering at my door. I, thinking it was a mistake, swore a bit, and -roared out that they were to go to the third officer, and the devil! -But, instead of this, the door was gently opened, and the purser put in -a very long white face, and said,—</p> - -<p>"'Look here, Waters, I want you in my cabin; there is the mischief to -pay, and I can't make it out! I can't get a wink of sleep, for the most -awful groans you ever heard!'</p> - -<p>"I sat up and looked at him hard. He was always a sober man, he was -sober now, and he was not walking in his sleep. After a moment's very -natural hesitation, I threw on some clothes, and followed him to his -cabin, which was forward. The light was still burning, and his bunk -turned back just as he had leapt out of it; but there was nothing to be -seen.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 201]</span></p> - -<p>"'Wait a bit,' he said eagerly, 'hold on a minute and listen.'</p> - -<p>"I did, I waited, and listened with all my ears, and I heard nothing -but the thumping of the engines, and the tramping of the officer on -watch overhead. I was about to turn on my heel with rather an angry -remark, when he arrested me with a livid face, and said,—</p> - -<p>"'There it is!' and sure enough there it <em>was</em>—a low, deep, hollow -groan, and no mistake about it, a groan as if wrung from some one in -mortal agony, some one suffering lingering and excruciating torture.—I -looked at the purser, big beads of perspiration were standing on his -forehead, and he looked hard at me. 'I heard it all last night,' he -said in a husky whisper, 'but I was afraid to speak. I hunted to-day -high and low, and sounded every hole and corner, but there is nothing -to be found!' Then he ceased speaking, there it was <em>again</em>, louder, -more painful than ever; it certainly came from some place below the -floor, and on the starboard side. We both knelt down, and hammered, and -knocked, and called, and laid our ears to the boards, but it was of no -use,—there was silence.</p> - -<p>"'Perhaps it was some one snoring,' I suggested, 'or it might be a dog?'</p> - -<p>"'No,' returned the purser, who was still on his knees, 'it's a human -voice, and the groans of a dying man, as sure as I'm a live one!'</p> - -<p>"I remained in the cabin for half an hour, and though we overhauled the -whole concern, we heard nothing more, so I fetched up for my own bunk, -and turned in and went to sleep.</p> - -<p>"The next day the purser said he heard the moans very faintly, as -if they were now getting weaker and weaker, and after this entirely -ceased. For a good spell everything went along without a hitch, we -had A 1 weather, and made first-class runs. But one evening, in the -twilight, I noticed a great commotion in the saloon, I heard high -talking—a woman's voice! One of the lady passengers was the centre of -a crowd, and was making some angry complaint to the captain.</p> - -<p>"'It's the young man in the boots again!' she said. 'And it's really - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 202]</span> - -too bad. Why is he allowed in this part of the ship, what are the -stewards about? It is insufferable to be persecuted in this manner! -Every evening, at this hour, he comes to the door of the saloon and -beckons to <em>me</em>, or to any one who is near, but he never seems to catch -any one's eyes but <em>mine</em>! It's really disgraceful that the steerage -passengers should be allowed among us in this way.'</p> - -<p>"The saloon stewards were all called up and rigidly cross-examined by -the captain, but they all most positively declared that no stranger had -been seen by them, nor was there any steerage passenger on board that -at all answered the lady's description.</p> - -<p>"'Of course, that's nonsense!' she exclaimed indignantly. 'He comes to -the bar for spirits on the sly—and very sly he is—for I've gone to -the door to see what he wanted, and he has always contrived to slip -away.'</p> - -<p>"An extra sharp lookout was accordingly kept by the captain's orders, -but the head steward privately informed me with a grin 'that there was -no such person as a tall young man in a blue jumper, with long boots, -on the ship's books,' and we both came to the conclusion that the lady -was decidedly wanting in her top gear.</p> - -<p>"However, after a while other people began to see the steerage -passenger. Not merely ladies only, but hard-headed, practical, elderly -men; and very disagreeable whispers began to get afloat that 'the ship -was haunted!' The apparition in long butcher boots, could never be -caught or traced, but he was visible repeatedly; and did not merely -confine himself to hanging about and beckoning at the saloon door—he -was now to be met in passages, at the dark turns on the stairs behind -the wheel-house, and even on the bridge,—but always after dusk. Things -now began to be extremely unpleasant, discipline was scorned, at the -very <em>idea</em> of taking away the lights at eleven o'clock, there was -uproar, and an open mutiny among the ladies. Passengers were completely -unmanageable, the women going about in gangs, and the very crew in -couples. The captain endeavoured to make a bold stand against the -ghost, but he was silenced by a clamour of voices, and by a cloud of - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 203]</span> - -witnesses who had all <em>seen</em> it, and, to make matters better, we came -in for the most awful weather I ever experienced, our hatches were -stove in, our decks swept, and I never was more thankful in all my life -than when we took up our pilot in the Downs. What between the ghost and -the gales, even our most seasoned salts were shaky, and grumbled among -themselves, that one would almost imagine that we had a dead body on -board! However, we managed to dock without any misadventure, beyond -being five days over our time, having lost three boats, and gained the -agreeable reputation of being a haunted ship! When we were getting -out the cargo, and having the usual overhaul below, I happened to be -on duty one day when I was accosted by the boatswain, who came aft to -where I was standing, with an uncommonly grave face. 'Please, sir,' -said he, 'we've found something we did not bargain for; it was in the -place where the anchor-chain is, and now, the chain being all paid out, -it's empty, you see—' he paused a moment,—'all but for a dead man.'</p> - -<p>"Of course I hurried forward at once, and looked down into a dark -hole, when, by the light of a bit of candle held by one of the crew, I -saw, sure enough, crushed up against one side the skeleton of a man—a -skeleton, for the rats had picked his bones clean; his coat still hung -on him, he wore long digger's boots, and a digger's hat covered his -bare skull.</p> - -<p>"I started back, and fell foul of the candle, though I'm not a -particularly nervous person, for I now remembered the groans I had -heard in the purser's cabin.</p> - -<p>"'You see, sir, how it was," said the boatswain, 'he was a stowaway, -in course. When we were in dock, this place was empty. Cause why? The -anchor-chain is out, and it seemed to this poor ignorant wretch, who -was no seaman anyway, to be just the very spot—as it were, made for -him! I've a kind of recollection of him, too, hanging about when we -were taking in cargo. He was young, and looked like a half-starved, -broken-down gentleman, such as you see every day in the colony, who -come out—bless their innocence!—a-thinking the nuggets is growing -on the trees, and sink down to beggary, or to working their way home - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 204]</span> - -before the mast. Ay, he thought to get a cast back,' said the bo'sun, -'and he just walked straight into the jaws of death. The moment we -began to weigh anchor, and the chain came reeling, and reeling, into -his hiding-place, it had no outlet but the hole at the top, and the -rattle of it and the noise of the donkey-engine drowned his cries: he -was just walled in, poor chap, and buried up alive!'</p> - -<p>"Of course, we all knew, that this was the mysterious apparition in -long boots, who had created such an unparalleled disturbance on the -passage home. Presently the remains were decently carried away, and -there was an inquest, but nothing could be discovered about the body. -We subscribed for the funeral among us, and he was buried in the -nearest church-yard. We sailors are a superstitious lot, and though we -got out of it (I mean, bringing home a corpse) better than could be -expected, so we gave him a respectable funeral; but there is no name on -the stone cross above his head, for the only one, we knew him by, was -that of the 'Steerage Passenger!'"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The chief officer brought his story to an end in the midst of a dead, -nay, an awe-struck silence. People shuddered and looked nervously -behind them. They were on board ship, too! Why should not the -<em>Palestine</em> have a ghost of her own, as well as the <em>Black Swan</em>?</p> - -<p>The utter stillness, was suddenly broken by a loud howl from Billy -Home, who had been listening with all the power of his unusually -capacious ears, and seemed to have but just wakened up from a sort of -trance of horror. He shrieked and clung to Helen, who had whispered a -hint with regard to bed-time.</p> - -<p>"No, no, no," he would not come. "No, not alone," he added with a yell, -hanging to her with the tenacity of a limpet; "not unless you stay with -me.—I'm afraid of the man downstairs,—I <em>know</em> he is downstairs."</p> - -<p>"I declare," said the bearded story-teller, "I quite forgot that little -beggar was there. I never noticed him till now, or I would not have -told you that yarn."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 205]</span></p> - -<p>Needless to remark, his apology came rather too late. At every turn -of the companion-ladder, at every open door, Billy lived in whining -anticipation of meeting what he called "the man in the boots," and for -the remainder of the voyage he was figuratively a mill-stone, round -Helen's neck.</p> - -<p>They had an uneventful passage down the Mediterranean, halting at -Malta for lace, oranges, and canaries; they passed Cape Bon, then the -coast of Spain, and the snow-capped Sierra Nevada. The Home boys had -never beheld snow till now, and were easily induced to believe, that -what they beheld was pounded sugar, and languished at the mountains -with greedy eyes, as long as they remained in sight. On a certain -Sunday afternoon in April the <em>Palestine</em> arrived in the Victoria -Docks, London. Numerous expectant friends came swarming on board, all -eagerness and expectation, but there was no one to welcome Helen,—no -face among that friendly crowd was seeking hers. Being a Sunday, there -was, of course, some difficulty about cabs and trains, and the docks -were very remote from the fashionable quarter where her aunt Julia -resided: so she swallowed her disappointment and made excuses to -herself. However, Mrs. Home, who had been met by her brother, insisted -upon personally conducting her to her journey's end. First they went -by rail above ground, then by rail under ground, finally by cab, and -after a long drive, the travellers drew up at Mrs. Platt's rather -pinched-looking mansion in Upper Cream Street. A man-servant answered -the bell, flung wide the door with a jerk, and stood upon the threshold -in dignified amazement on beholding <em>two</em> cabs, heavily laden with -baggage.</p> - -<p>Was Mrs. Platt at home?</p> - -<p>"No, ma'am. She and the young ladies have gone to afternoon church; but -Miss Denis is <em>expected</em>."</p> - -<p>Rather a tepid reception, Mrs. Home thought, with a secret thrill of -indignation. Much, much, she wished that she could have taken Helen -with her there and then. She hugged her vigorously, as did also Tom -and Billy; and telling her, that she would come and see her very soon, -she re-entered her cab, and with her brother, children, and luggage, -was presently rattled away. Helen felt as she stood on the steps, and - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 206]</span> - -watched those familiar trunks, turning a corner,—that her last link -with the Andamans, and all her recent life, was now broken.</p> - - -<hr class="r15" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXVI">CHAPTER XXVI.<br /><br /> -<span class="small">A POOR RELATION.</span></h2> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container38"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="blockquot"> -<div class="verse">"Oh, she is rich in beauty, only poor!"</div> - </div> - </div> - </div> -</div> -<div class="sig-left60"><span style="margin-left: 1em;"><cite>Romeo and Juliet.</cite></span></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">"You</span> had better have your big box kept in the back hall—it will -scarcely be worth while to take it upstairs, and it might only rub the -paper off the wall."</p> - -<p>This was almost the first greeting that Helen received from her aunt -Julia.</p> - -<p>"And, dear me, how thin you have grown! I would have passed you in the -street," was her eldest cousin's welcome.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Platt and her two daughters, Clara and Caroline, had returned -from church, and found their expected guest awaiting them alone, in -the drawing-room! "Surely one of them might have stayed at home," she -said to herself with a lump in her throat and a mist before her eyes. -She had latterly been made so much of at Port Blair that her present -reception was indeed a bitter contrast. It undoubtedly <em>is</em> rather -chilling to arrive punctually from a long journey (say, half across -the world), and to find that your visit is a matter of such little -moment to your relations, that they have not even thought it necessary -to remain indoors to await, much less to send to meet you! Helen felt -strangely neglected and depressed, as she sat in the drawing-room in -solitary state, still wearing her hat and jacket, and feeling more like -a dependant, who had come to seek for a situation, than a near relation -to the lady of the house. She had fully an hour in which to contemplate -the situation, ere her aunt and cousins returned. They were three very -tall women, and made an imposing appearance, as they filed in one after -another in their best bonnets, with their prayer-books in their hands. - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 207]</span> - -They kissed her coolly, inquired when, and how, she had arrived, and -then sat down and looked at her attentively.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Platt was a thin, fair lady, with handsome profile, who had -married well; and contrived to keep herself aloof from the general -wreckage, when her maiden home was broken up; ambition was her -distinctive characteristic; she had married well, and got up in the -world, and now she hoped to see her daughters do the same.</p> - -<p>To effect a lodgment in an upper strata of society, to mix with what -she called the "best people," was her idea of unalloyed happiness.</p> - -<p>In her grander, loftier style she was every bit as fond of a title as -our dear friend Mrs. Creery.</p> - -<p>Besides all this she was a respectable British matron, who paid her -bills weekly, went twice to church on Sunday, never darkened the door -of an omnibus, or condescended to use a postcard. Still, in her own -genteel fashion, she was a capital manager, and generally made eighteen -pence contrive to do duty for two shillings. She was honest, scheming, -hard to every one, even to herself, making all those with whom she came -into contact useful to her in some way; either they were utilized as -social stepping-stones, or givers of entertainment, concert, and opera -tickets, flowers, or better still, invitations to country houses; all -her friends were expected to put their shoulder to her wheel in some -respect—either that,—or she dropped their acquaintance under these -circumstances.</p> - -<p>It will be easily imagined, how very unwelcome to such a lady as Mrs. -Platt was the unlooked-for return of this handsome, penniless niece!</p> - -<p>The Misses Platt were tall young women, of from six, to eight and -twenty years of age; they had unusually long necks, and carried their -noses in the air; they were slight, and had light eyes and eyebrows, -which gave them an indefinite, unfinished appearance; their hair was of -a dull ashen shade, and they wore large fluffy fringes, were considered -"plain" by people who did not like them, and "elegant-looking girls" by -those who were their friends.</p> - -<p>They were unemotional, critical, and selfish, firmly resolved to get - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 208]</span> - -the best of whatever was going; for the Miss Platts influenced their -mother as they pleased, and had the greatest repugnance to having their -cousin Helen thus billeted upon them.</p> - -<p>They called everything, and every person, that did not meet with their -approval "bad style," and worshipped coronets, as devoutly as their -parent herself.</p> - -<p>By-and-by the new arrival had some tea, was assured that she would be -"all the better for a night's rest," and was escorted to the very top -of the house, by an exhausted cousin, to what her aunt called "her -old room." This was true,—it was not the guest-chamber, but a very -sparsely-furnished apartment, on the same floor with the maids. And -here her relative deposited her candlestick, nodded a condescending -good-night, and left her to her repose. This was her home-coming! -However, she was very tired, and soon fell asleep, and forgot her -sorrows; but very early the next morning, she was awoke by the roar of -the London streets, for you could call it nothing else. Mrs. Platt, -though occupying a most fashionable and expensive nutshell, was close -to one of the great arteries of traffic. Helen lay and listened. What -a contrast to the last place where she had slept on shore, where the -bugle awoke the echoes at five o'clock in the morning, where wheels and -horses were absolutely unknown, and the stillness was almost solemn, -only broken by the dip of an oar or the scream of a peacock! She turned -her eyes to a picture pinned to the wall, facing the foot of her bed, -the picture of a merry-looking milkmaid, with a pail under her arm; the -milkmaid was smiling at her now, precisely as she had done less than a -year ago,—when she had slept in that very room previous to starting -for Port Blair. <em>Then</em> she had seemed to her imagination, to wish her -good speed. Surely that gay expression seemed to augur the future -smiles of fortune! Ten months ago she had stared at that picture, ere -she had set out for her voyage, full of hope and happy anticipations; -and now, ere the year had gone round, she was back again, her day was -over, her happy home in those sunny islands among tropical seas, had -vanished like a dream! She had visited, as it were, an enchanted land, - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 209]</span> - -where she had found father, home, friends—ay, and lover, and had -returned desolate and empty-handed (save for that "sorrow's crown of -sorrow"), to face the stern realities of life,—and to earn her daily -bread. She gazed at the mocking milkmaid, and closed her eyes. Oh! if -she could but wake and find that the last four months had been but a -horrible dream.</p> - -<p>The Platts were late people, they scorned the typical first worm. -Helen, accustomed to early (Eastern) hours, had a very long morning, -entirely alone. She dared not unpack, she had no work to do, and could -find no books to read; for her aunt, who was most economical in regard -to things that did not make a show, did not subscribe to a library, -merely took in a daily paper, and preyed, on her friends, for her other -literature.</p> - -<p>Breakfast was at eleven o'clock, and during that meal letters were -read, the daily programme arranged, and people and places discussed, -whose names were totally unknown to Helen. Now and then, her cousins -threw her a word or two, but there was no cordiality or friendship in -their tone; it did not need that, to tell her she was not welcome, and -she sat aloof in silence, feeling as if she were an utter alien, and -as if her very heart was frozen. And yet these were her own flesh and -blood—her father's sister and nieces—her nearest, if not her dearest! -How different to Mrs. Home, Mrs. Graham, and Mrs. Durand!—ay, even -Mrs. Creery had shown her more affection than her own aunt.</p> - -<p>Helen soon fell into her proper niche in the family. After breakfast -she went out and did all the little household messages to the -tradespeople, and made herself useful, <i>i.e.</i>, mended her aunt's -gloves, and hose, wrote her notes, and copied music for her cousins.</p> - -<p>She dined early, when her relatives lunched, as they frequently had -people in the evening.</p> - -<p>There was a kind of back room or den upon the second landing, where -the Platt family sat in <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">déshabillé</i>, partook of refreshments, wrote -letters, ripped old dresses, and held family conclaves. Here Helen -spent most of her time, and being very clever with her needle, did -many "odd jobs" for her relatives. Better this, than sitting with - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 210]</span> - -idle hands, staring out on a back green the size of a table-cloth, -surrounded by grimy walls, with no more interesting spectacle to -enliven the scene, than the duels, or duets, of the neighbouring -cats. So it was, "Helen, I want you to run up this," or "to tack -that together," or "just to unpick the other thing," and she became -a valuable auxiliary to Plunket the lady's-maid, not merely with her -needle alone,—she soon learned to be very handy with a box-iron!</p> - -<p>Of course she was never expected to accompany the family, when they -went out in the brougham, her aunt saying to her in her suavest tone, -"You see, dear, your mourning is so recent" (her father was five months -dead), "I am sure you would rather stay at home." Accordingly the three -ladies packed themselves into the carriage most afternoons, and went -for an airing, leaving their poor relation, with strict injunctions to -"keep up the drawing-room fire," and "to see that tea was ready to the -moment of five." Sometimes they gave "at homes," the preparations for -which were left to Helen, who worked like a slavey. These "at homes" -were chiefly remarkable for a profusion of flowers, weak tea, weaker -music, and a crush.</p> - -<p>Next to the cook, Helen was decidedly the most useful member of the -household, she was kept fully occupied all day long, and in constant -employment, was her only escape from her own thoughts. She was not -happy; nay, many a night she cried herself to sleep; her aunt was -cool and distant, as though she had displeased her in some way; but -to Helen's knowledge, she had given her no cause of offence since the -terrible incident of the tea-cup, years and years previously.</p> - -<p>Her cousins were sharp, critical, and patronizing, and evidently -considered that she occupied a very much lower social status than -themselves.</p> - -<p>She was unwelcome, an interloper, and felt it keenly. More than once -she tried to screw up her courage, and ask her aunt what was to be -her future. Undoubtedly, she was not to remain on permanently as an -inmate of No. 15, Cream Street.—Her big box still stood in the back -hall. Somehow, she rarely had a chance of a few words with her aunt - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 211]</span> - -alone, her affairs were never once touched upon in her hearing, and -yet she had reason to believe, that certain animated and rather shrill -conversations, that she frequently interrupted,—and that fell away -into an awkward silence as she entered a room,—were about her, and her -future destination!</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Visitors came rapping at No. 15, Cream Street every afternoon, and two, -out of the dozens who had called, asked for "Miss Denis." A few days -after her arrival, she had been in the drawing-room with her cousins -Carrie and Clara, when her first caller made her appearance.</p> - -<p>The drawing-room was an apartment that seemed to be all mirrors, low -chairs, small tables, and plush photo frames—a pretty room, entirely -got up for show, not use. Several of the chairs, were not to be -trusted, and one or two tables were decidedly dangerous, but the <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">tout -ensemble</i> through coloured blinds, was everything that was smart and -fashionable, and "good style"—the fetish the Miss Platts worshipped.</p> - -<p>On this particular afternoon Carrie was yawning over the fire, Clara -was looking out of the window, commenting on a coroneted carriage and -superb pair of steppers, with what is called extravagant action, which -had just stopped opposite. Mentally she was thinking, how much she -would like to see this equipage in waiting at their own door, when a -very curious turn-out came lumbering along, and actually drew up at -No. 15. A shapeless, weather-beaten, yellow brougham, drawn by a fat -plough-horse, and driven by a coachman in keeping with his steed—a man -with a long beard, a rusty hat (that an Andamanese would have scorned), -and a horse-sheet round his knees.</p> - -<p>Little did Helen Denis dream that she was gazing at that oft-vaunted -vehicle—Lady Grubb's carriage.</p> - -<p>"Good gracious, Carrie, who on earth is this?" cried Clara, turning to -her sister, who was now staring exhaustingly at her own reflection in -the chimney-glass. "And coming to call here! Oh, for mercy's sake, do -come and look!"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 212]</span></p> - -<p>The door of the brougham was slowly opened, and a very stout old lady, -attired in a long black satin cloak, and gorgeous bonnet with nodding -plumes, descended, and waddled up the steps.</p> - -<p>In the vacant carriage there still remained two fat pugs, a worked -cushion, a pile of books, and what certainly looked like a basket of -vegetables!</p> - -<p>"It's no one <em>we</em> know," said Clara contemptuously.</p> - -<p>"It may be a friend of Plunket's, or a mistake."</p> - -<p>Apparently it was neither, for at this moment the door was flung open, -and,—</p> - -<p>"Lady Grubb!" was announced.</p> - -<p>Very eagerly she advanced to Clara, with round, smiling face, and -outstretched hands, saying,—</p> - -<p>"So glad to find you at home! My sister told me to be sure and call, -and as I was at the stores,"—here she paused and faltered, literally -cowed by the expression of Miss Platt's eyes—Miss Platt, who drew -back, elongated her neck, and looked insolent interrogation.</p> - -<p>"I think you have been so good as to come and see me," murmured Helen, -hastily advancing to the rescue. "You are Mrs. Creery's sister?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, and of course you are Miss Denis," seizing her outstretched hand -as if it were a life-belt, for poor Lady Grubb was completely thrown -off her balance, by the stern demeanour of the other damsel.</p> - -<p>Helen led her to a sofa, and tried to engage her in friendly -conversation, but it was not easy to converse, with her two cousins -sitting rigidly by, as if they were on a board of examination, and not -suffering a word or look to escape them. They sat and gazed at Lady -Grubb in quite a combined and systematic manner; to them she was such a -unique object, and such utterly "awful style."</p> - -<p>She, like her sister, was endowed with a copious flow of language, -but the very fountain of her speech was frozen by these two ice -maidens. The first few words she did manage to utter, were hurried and -incoherent, but presently she found courage to inquire after Maria, and -Nip, and Creery (horrible to relate, she called him "Creery"), and also -after many people, she had heard about at Port Blair.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 213]</span></p> - -<p>It was very plain to Helen, that Maria had painted her island home, -with an unsparing supply of gorgeous colours, and Lady Grubb looked -upon her absent relative's position, as something between that of -the Queen of Sheba, and the Princess Badoura without doubt. She then -murmured a few words of really kind condolence to Helen, and if she had -taken her departure at this point, all would have been well; but she -was now becoming habituated to the stony stare of the Misses Platt, and -felt more emboldened to converse,—and some malicious elf put it into -her head to say, with a meaning smile,—</p> - -<p>"I am quite up in all the Port Blair news and Port Blair secrets, you -know. I've heard a great deal about a certain gentleman."</p> - -<p>Helen became what is known as "all colours," and her two cousins "all -ears;" to them she had positively denied that she had left the ghost of -an admirer to lament her departure from the Andaman Islands.</p> - -<p>"Oh, you know who I <em>mean</em>, I can see," continued the old lady -playfully. "She had any number of offers," addressing herself rather -triumphantly to the Miss Platts, "but Mr. Quentin is to be the happy -man," and here the wretched old woman, actually winked at Clara and -Caroline.</p> - -<p>"Indeed, indeed, Lady Grubb, you are quite mistaken!" cried Helen -hastily. "Mr. Quentin is nothing to me but a mere acquaintance, and as -to anything else, Mrs. Creery—was—was joking!"</p> - -<p>"Oh, well, well, we won't say a word about it now, but you must come -and spend a long day with me soon and tell me <em>everything</em>! I feel as -if I know you quite well, having heard of you so often from Maria. I'll -just leave my card for your aunt, and now I must really be going," -standing up as she spoke. "I suppose Scully is waiting" (presumably the -uncouth coachman).</p> - -<p>The Miss Platts did not ring the bell, neither did they deign to rise -from their chairs, but merely closed their eyes at their visitor, as -she made a kind of "shy," intended for a curtsey, and wishing them -"good afternoon," departed with considerable precipitation.</p> - -<p>Helen went downstairs, and conducted Lady Grubb to the hall-door, and - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 214]</span> - -presently saw her bowled away in her yellow chariot, with a brace of -pugs in her lap.</p> - -<p>She was not a very distinguished person certainly, but she meant to be -friendly, to be kind, and a little of these commodities went a long way -with her now. She blushed, when she recalled her cousins' deportment. -Surely an Andamanese female, in her own premises (were they hole or -tree), would have shown more civility to a stranger. As she entered the -drawing-room, the Miss Platts exclaimed in one breath,—</p> - -<p>"What a creature! Who is she?"</p> - -<p>"She looks like an old cook!" supplemented Carrie. "I was <em>trembling</em> -lest any of our friends should come in."</p> - -<p>"Her name is Grubb, she is sister to Mrs. Creery, the—" (how could she -give any approximate idea of that lady's pomp?) "the principal lady at -the Andamans!" she added rather faintly.</p> - -<p>"Principal lady! What rubbish!" cried Clara. "If she resembles her -distinguished sister, I make you my compliments, as the French say, on -the class of society you enjoyed out there."</p> - -<p>"Let us see where she lives. Where's her card? What is her -name?—Tubb—Grubb?" said Carrie. "Here it is," taking it up between -two supercilious fingers, and reading,—</p> -<br /><br /> - -<div class="boxpage214"> -<span class="sig-left15"><b>Lady Grubb</b>,</span><br /> -<span class="sig-left35"><em>Smithson Villas, Pimlico</em></span>. -</div> - -<br /><br /> - -<p>"Pimlico! <em>So</em> i should have imagined," for, of course, any one who -lived in that region was in the Miss Platts' opinion socially extinct.</p> - -<p>"You certainly cannot do yourself the pleasure of spending a long and -happy day at Smithson Villas," said Carrie with decision. "Goodness -knows whom you might meet; and she would be bragging to her cronies -that you were <em>our</em> cousin."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 215]</span></p> - -<p>"I shall go if she asks me," replied Helen quietly. "It is no matter -who <em>I</em> meet, and I will guarantee that your name does not transpire."</p> - -<p>Was the girl trying to be sarcastic? Carrie looked at her sharply, but -Helen's face was immovable.</p> - -<p>"Well, I do most devoutly trust that she will not see fit to wait upon -you again, or that if she does she will come in the laundry-cart!"</p> - -<p>"I wonder what the Courtney-Howards thought of her. I'm sure I saw -Evelyn at the window," remarked Clara. "Oh!" she added with great -animation, "here is the Jenkins' carriage—Flo and her mother. What a -mercy that they did not come five minutes ago!"</p> - -<p>Now ensued general arranging of hair, of chairs, and of blinds; -evidently the Jenkins were people worth cultivating, and indisputably -of "good style."</p> - -<p>"Fly away, Helen, at once," cried Carrie, "and tell Price to bring up -tea in about ten minutes; and if there is time, you might just run -round the corner and get half-a-dozen of those nice little Scotch -cakes. I know Price hates being sent on messages in the afternoon, and -you don't mind."</p> - - -<hr class="r15" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXVII">CHAPTER XXVII.<br /><br /> -<span class="small">IN WHICH EVERYTHING IS SETTLED TO MRS. PLATT'S SATISFACTION.</span></h2> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container40"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="blockquot"> -<div class="verse first-line">"When true hearts lie withered,</div> -<div class="verse indent2">And fond ones are flown,</div> -<div class="verse">Oh! who would inhabit</div> -<div class="verse indent2">This bleak world alone?"</div> - </div> - </div> - </div> -</div> -<div class="sig-left60"><span style="margin-left: 1em;"><cite>Moore.</cite></span></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Lady Grubb's</span> visit was succeeded by one from Mrs. Home—a kind, -well-meaning little lady, as we know, but as yet attired in what had -been a very nice Dirzee-made garment at Port Blair, and even passed -muster for best on board ship, but which stamped her at once in the -eyes of the Miss Platts as "bad style."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 216]</span></p> - -<p>Her boys, too, so eager was she to see Helen, were not yet equipped in -their new suits, and were anomalous spectacles in Highland kilts and -sailor hats.</p> - -<p>Clara and Carrie did not condescend to appear on this occasion, they -saw amply sufficient of Mrs. Home and family over the dining-room blind.</p> - -<p>Helen felt a sense of burning humiliation and shame to think that now, -when she was at home among her own people, they would not even take the -trouble to come upstairs and thank Mrs. Home for her great kindness to -her, nor even so much as send her a cup of tea. She hoped in her heart -that her friend would think they were <em>out</em>! But they went audibly up -and down stairs and laughed and shut doors, and Mrs. Home was neither -deaf nor stupid.</p> - -<p>She stayed an hour, and Helen enjoyed her visit greatly (despite her -disappointment at the non-appearance of her relations or, failing them, -the tea-tray). It was one little oasis in the desert of her now dreary -life; they conversed eagerly together and talked the shibboleth of -people who have the same friends, in the same country; they kissed and -cried a little, and parted with mutual promises of many letters, for -Mrs. Home was going to Jersey, and thence to the Continent.</p> - -<p>"Your friends are not our friends, and our friends are not your -friends," said Carrie forcibly, and Helen felt that indeed, as far as -appearance went, her visitors had not been a success, and for her own -part never dreamt of being admitted within the sacred circle of her -cousins' acquaintance.</p> - -<p>Now and then she met people accidentally in the hall, or in the street -when walking with her cousins; and once she overheard Carrie saying to -Clara, apropos of visitors,—</p> - -<p>"Of course there is no occasion to introduce Helen to any one," and -this amiable injunction was obeyed to the letter. However, the omission -sat very lightly on the once admired of all admirers at Port Blair.</p> - -<p>One morning it happened that Helen was in the drawing-room when a bosom -friend of Carrie's came to call—a Miss Fowler Sharpe, a fashionable -acquaintance whom the Misses Platt toadied, for she had the <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">entrée</i> to -circles barred to them, and they hoped to use her as a pass key.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</span></p> - -<p>They made a great deal of the lady, flattered her, caressed her, and -ran after her, all of which was agreeable to Miss Sharpe. She was a -very elegantly dressed London girl, who spoke with a drawl, and gave -one the idea that her eyelids were too heavy for her eyes. She had come -over to Cream Street to make some arrangements about an opera-box, and -to have a little genteel gossip.</p> - -<p>Helen was busily engaged in sewing Madras muslin and coloured bows -on the backs of some of the chairs, where she was "discovered" by -her cousins and their friend, to whom she was presented in a hasty, -off-hand manner, which plainly said, "You need not notice her!"</p> - -<p>Miss Sharpe stared for a second, vouchsafed her a little nod, then sat -down with her back to Helen and speedily forgot her existence.</p> - -<p>The three friends were soon deep in conversation, whilst she worked -steadily on, kneeling at the chair she was dressing with her face -turned away from the company.</p> - -<p>Their principal topics were dress and weddings, weddings and dress, and -who was flirting with whom, and what was likely to be a match, and what -was not, and who looked lovely in such a gown, and what men were in -town.</p> - -<p>At length Helen, who had not been attending, caught one syllable that -made her start and pause, and then listen with a heightened colour and -a beating heart.</p> - -<p>"Yes, I hear that Gilbert Lisle is actually coming back; he has been -away among savages this last time, positively fraternizing with -cannibals."</p> - -<p>"Gilbert Lisle coming home!" cried Carrie. "Then Kate Calderwood will -be happy at last. I suppose it will be all arranged this season?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, his father is most anxious that he should settle; indeed, I -believe he wrote him out a furious letter, and said that if he did not -come home without delay he would marry again <em>himself</em>!" At this threat -all three ladies laughed immoderately.</p> - -<p>"Imagine any sane woman marrying such an old Turk as Lord Lingard!" -drawled Miss Sharpe. "He is seventy if he is a day, bald and beaky, - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 218]</span> - -and with a temper that has a European notoriety; the very idea of his -supposing that he would get <em>any one</em> to take him!"</p> - -<p>"Yes, hideous old creature," chimed in Clara; "he always reminds me of -a white cockatoo with a pink bill."</p> - -<p>(Nevertheless, any one of these young ladies would have said "Yes" with -pleasure had Lord Lingard asked them to be his.)</p> - -<p>"I cannot imagine how any one ever married him originally," pursued -Miss Sharpe; "and yet they say that Lady Lingard was one of the -handsomest women of her day."</p> - -<p>"Oh, but," put in Clara, delighted to impart this class of information, -"you know, they say that she married him out of pique, and she did not -live long. I suppose he worried her into her grave."</p> - -<p>"No," rejoined Miss Sharpe; "though he <em>may</em> have helped to kill her, -she died of consumption."</p> - -<p>"Did she? and her eldest son is following her. He is in a rapid -decline," added Carrie. "And you say that Gilbert Lisle is really -coming home?" suddenly falling back on the original topic.</p> - -<p>"So I'm told. Mother is going to send him a card for our dance. But I -never believe in him till I see him."</p> - -<p>"How I wish we knew him," ejaculated Clara, looking at her visitor -wistfully.</p> - -<p>"Oh, you know he is not a society man, only goes to a few houses and -some country places where there is good shooting; now and then you see -him at a ball, or in a squash in some staircase; but he has a very -fair idea of his own value, and never makes himself <em>cheap</em>," and Miss -Sharpe smiled rather disagreeably.</p> - -<p>"That's the way with all these rich bachelors," exclaimed Carrie. "They -are so spoilt, and so abominably conceited."</p> - -<p>"I wonder how he got on among the savages?" said Miss Sharpe.</p> - -<p>Little did she guess that the girl who was sitting in the background, -with bent head and burning face, could have answered her question then -and there.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 219]</span></p> - -<p>"I wonder if it will come off with Katie, after all?" exclaimed Carrie. -"She is the girl he used to ride with in the park last year, is she -not?—very freckled, with high shoulders. She comes to our church. I -wonder what he sees in her?" she added.</p> - -<p>"It is his father, my dear, who sees <em>everything</em> in her: her property -'march,' as they call it, with the Lingard estates."</p> - -<p>"And so she is to be Mrs. Gilbert Lisle?"</p> - -<p>"I believe so." And with this remark the subject dropped.</p> - -<p>Helen had listened to this conversation with crimson face and throbbing -heart. Everything was accounted for now; he had been simply amusing -himself with her. This man, who was accustomed to be made much of by -London beauties, who was eagerly sought for by house parties in country -houses—was it likely that he would be really serious in making love -to an obscure girl like herself, a girl whom he had come across in his -wanderings among savage islands? "No," she told herself, "not at all -likely; his actions spoke for him. He had been simply seeing how much -she would believe, repeating a <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">rôle</i> that he had doubtless played -dozens of times previously. And during his wanderings his wealthy -destined bride, Miss Calderwood, was all the time awaiting him in -England. <em>She</em> was to be Mrs. Gilbert Lisle."</p> - -<p>"I do declare you have stitched that on the wrong side out! What can -you <em>have</em> been thinking of?" demanded Clara very sharply, when her -fashionable friend had departed. "You will have to rip it, and put it -on properly. Your wits must have been wool-gathering!"</p> - -<p>If Clara had known where her cousin's thoughts had been, she would -have been very much surprised for once in her life, and ejaculated her -favourite exclamation, "Fancy, just fancy!" with unusual animation.</p> - -<p>The day after this visit Helen was asked to accompany her cousin -Carrie on foot to Bond Street, not an unusual honour. She was useful -for carrying small parcels; true, her mourning was shabby, but none of -the Platts' acquaintances knew who she was, and, if the worst came to -the worst, she might pass as a superior-looking lady's-maid. On their - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 220]</span> - -way back from the shops Carrie took it into her head to take a turn -in the park. It was about twelve o'clock, and the Row was gay with a -fashionable throng of pedestrians. Carrie met several friends, to whom -she gave a bow here and a nod there, and Helen, to her great amazement, -recognized one while yet afar off, and, although garbed in a frock -coat and tall hat—yes, she actually beheld Mr. Quentin coming towards -her, walking with a very well-dressed woman, and followed by two red -dachshunds. She was positive that the recognition was mutual, and was -pleased in her present barren life to hail any acquaintance from Port -Blair—even him! When they came almost face to face she bowed and -smiled, and would have stopped, but he merely glanced at her as if she -were some most casual acquaintance, swept off his hat, and passed on. -Evidently Port Blair and Rotten Row were two very different places.</p> - -<p>A flood of scarlet rushed over her face, which her quick-eyed companion -did not fail to notice, and said—</p> - -<p>"Who is that gentleman?"</p> - -<p>"A Mr. Quentin. I knew him at Port Blair."</p> - -<p>"Fancy! I have heard of him. He is quite in society; he is a friend of -the Sharpes. I believe he is rather fascinating—but frightfully in -debt."</p> - -<p>Helen made no reply, but walked on in silence, and Miss Platt put two -and two together with much satisfaction to herself. Helen's undoubted -confusion signified of course that she cherished an unrequited -attachment for this good-looking, faithless man who had just now gone -by with a cool ceremonious bow. So much for her cousin's admirers in -the Andamans!</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>It was now the end of May, and Helen had been six weeks in London, -but so far not a word had been mooted to her about her future plans. -She made herself useful, working, shopping, going messages; her aunt -admitted to herself that she was quite as good as another servant in -the house (though she did not actually use the word servant, even in -her thoughts); she was a handy, useful, industrious girl, and did not - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 221]</span> - -put herself forward; so the matter of getting her a situation had been -allowed to remain somewhat in abeyance.</p> - -<p>Helen knew that she must eventually "move on," but had a nervous dread -of broaching the subject to her relations. Day after day she failed -to bring her courage to the sticking-point; but the question, ever -trembling on her lips, at last found utterance, and finding herself -alone with Mrs. Platt one morning, she said timidly—</p> - -<p>"Have you made any plans about <em>me</em>, Aunt Julia?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, my dear," was the surprisingly prompt answer, "it is all quite -settled; I had intended speaking to you before, but something put it -out of my head. I have an important letter to write just now, but when -the girls go out this evening you and I will have a talk together."</p> - -<p>In due time the Miss Platts departed in the brougham, bound for a -little dinner and the play.</p> - -<p>Helen, who had assisted to adorn them, partook of a meat tea with her -aunt, and then they both adjourned to the little den upon the stairs. -There, by the light of a crimson-shaded lamp, Mrs. Platt read the day's -news, and Helen sewed and waited—waited for a very long time, and, -needless to say, she was most impatient to learn her fate.</p> - -<p>Her aunt was a lady who never worked, and rarely opened a book, but -devoted her whole time to writing, talking, organizing, eating, -sleeping and dressing. She perused the paper as a daily duty, just to -see what was going on; and after she had now read every word of it, -including advertisements, she folded it up with a crackling noise, and -said rather suddenly,—</p> - -<p>"This is a capital opportunity for us to have a nice little chat. I -have been intending to speak to you for some time. Of course you know, -dear, that your father left his affairs in a terrible state. I was not -the least surprised to hear it, and all that can be scraped together -for you is fourteen pounds a year—less than a kitchen-maid's wages," -shrugging her shoulders. "There is no use in saying anything about the -dead; what is done is done; nor that, to satisfy his ridiculous ideas -of honour, he left his only child——"</p> - -<p>"No, no use, Aunt Julia, for I would not listen to you," interrupted - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 222]</span> - -Helen with sudden fire. Mrs. Platt was astounded; this outbreak -recalled old days, she positively recoiled before the expression of her -niece's eyes, the imperious gesture of her hand. She leant back in her -chair with folded arms, and sat for some moments in indignant silence, -when she reached out two fingers and pulled the lamp-shade down, so -that her face was completely in the shadow. She had reason to do so, -for she was going to say things of which she might unquestionably be -ashamed; and once more she commenced, as if repeating something she had -previously rehearsed:</p> - -<p>"Ours is the oddest family, we have so few relations on the Denis side, -no nice connections, no influential friends; when your grandfather (why -could she not say my father?) came to such a fearful smash all his old -associates abandoned him, as rats leave a sinking ship. I married, and -made new ties, your father married too; but, as far as I know, your -mother had no respectable belongings. My sister Christina also made a -wretched match; she married a half-crazy Irish professor she picked up -at Bonn, he afterwards came in for some miserable Irish property, on -which he lives, but <em>he</em> could do nothing, he can hardly keep the wolf -and bailiffs from the door as it is. Christina, as I suppose you know, -died last Christmas."</p> - -<p>"No, Aunt Julia, I never heard of it."</p> - -<p>"Oh, well, of course it does not affect you." (Nor did it apparently -much affect Mrs. Platt.) "She and I had not met for many years. Then -there is my aunt Sophia—your grand-aunt. She is an invalid, and lives -at Bournemouth, scarcely ever leaving her room. She is very wealthy, -and we correspond constantly, but most of her money goes to charities, -in which she takes an interest, and unfortunately she takes no interest -in <em>you</em>. She has got it into her head that you are worldly!"</p> - -<p>Helen stared round the lamp-shade, to see if her aunt was joking.</p> - -<p>"It's quite true," responded Mrs. Platt, meeting her gaze, "and once -she gets an idea into her head,—there it stays. So it is rather -unfortunate; but, at any rate, all her thoughts are at present centred -on a mission to the Laps. Then," with a perceptible pause, "we come - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 223]</span> - -to myself. I am not a rich woman" (though she strained every nerve to -appear so, and had upwards of three thousand a year), "I spend every -penny of my income, and am often pressed for money. Of course, in the -country or at the seaside we would have a margin, but the girls would -not hear of living anywhere but in town—and naturally I have to study -them, and their interests."</p> - -<p>"Of course, Aunt Julia," acquiesced her listener.</p> - -<p>"This is a ruinous neighbourhood, and this house, though so tiny, -costs four hundred a year; no doubt for half that sum, I would get a -mansion in Bayswater; but, as the girls say, there is no use in being -in town at all if you don't live in the best part of it, and here we -are! Then we require to keep up a certain style to correspond with -the situation—a man-servant is indispensable, and a carriage; the -horses, of course, are jobbed. Again, we have to entertain, to go to -the seaside, to dress—and this last, even with Plunket making half the -things, costs a small fortune! The long and the short of it is that, -out of my very tolerable income, I never have a single sixpence at the -end of the year. This being the case, you will readily understand, my -dear Helen, that, much as I should <em>wish</em> to do so—I cannot offer you -a home here."</p> - -<p>"No, of course, Aunt Julia, I never expected you to do so," replied her -niece in a low voice.</p> - -<p>"You are a sensible girl, wonderfully so for your age, and I talk -to you, you see, as openly and as frankly as if you were my own -contemporary. I could not afford to dress you as you would require -to be dressed, and take you out; besides, the brougham is a crush -for three as it is, and three girls at a dance would be out of the -question. I must say, I should have <em>liked</em> to have given you a season, -but, as Clara points out, my taking you into society would entail -leaving one of them behind, and charity begins at home; and, candidly, -I am very anxious to see them settled."</p> - -<p>"Yes, aunt, of course I understand that your own daughters should come -first."</p> - -<p>"And besides all this, my love," waxing more affectionate as she - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 224]</span> - -proceeded, "I really have no room to give you. Plunket requires one to -herself; there is mine, and the girls', and the spare room, and, you -see——"</p> - -<p>"I see, Aunt Julia," interrupted her niece, "don't say another word. -And now what are your plans for me?"</p> - -<p>"Well, I had hoped to have got you a very happy, comfortable home, with -a very rich old lady in the country, who required a nice cheerful young -girl to talk to her, and read to her, and be with her constantly. She -was rather astray mentally—a little weak, you know; but you would have -got two hundred a year. However——" and she stopped.</p> - -<p>"However, aunt——?"</p> - -<p>"Well, I heard indirectly that she was liable to rather <em>violent</em> -paroxysms occasionally, and came to the conclusion that it would not -do! I have been making inquiries among my friends—of course, it's -rather a delicate business, and I don't mention that you are my own -niece; it would be so very awkward, you know; but I hope to hear of -something suitable ere long. Meanwhile, dear, I'm sure you won't be -offended at my telling you that we shall want your room next week!"</p> - -<p>Helen's hands shook, her lips trembled, so that for the moment she was -unable to speak. Was she to be turned out of doors? She had exactly -four pounds in her purse upstairs!</p> - -<p>"Clara's rich godmother always comes to us for June," continued Mrs. -Platt, "and we have to study her, and to make the house bright and -pleasant; it is then we always give our little dinner-parties. We do -our best to please her; she is very liberal to the girls, and we could -not possibly put her off. She will have the spare room, as usual,—and -her maid always occupies <em>yours</em>."</p> - -<p>"Yes, Aunt Julia."</p> - -<p>"I have made a very nice, temporary arrangement for you, dearest! A -lady I know, who keeps a large school at Kensington, has most kindly -offered to take you gratis for a month or two,—till we can look about -us. You are to teach the younger classes French and music."</p> - -<p>"In short, go to her as governess?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 225]</span></p> - -<p>"Oh, dear me, no," irritably; "it is a mere friendly offer. She obliges -you, you oblige her, as one of her staff has gone home ill, and she is -rather short-handed just now."</p> - -<p>"And will she pay me?" inquired Helen as bluntly as Mrs. Creery herself.</p> - -<p>"Oh, no, I don't think there was any reference to that! Perhaps your -laundress may be included; but you scarcely seem to understand that -she is going to give you board and lodging for <em>nothing</em>. You are not -sufficiently experienced for a governess!"</p> - -<p>"But——" began Helen, thinking of her superior musical talents and -fluent French.</p> - -<p>"But," interrupted her aunt tartly, "if you can think of any other -expedient for a couple of months, or have a better suggestion to make, -let us have it, by all means!"</p> - -<p>Her hearer pondered. There was Miss Twigg, Miss Twigg no longer; she -was married, and had gone out to Canada. Mrs. Home was in Germany, her -former schoolfellows were scattered,—to whom could she turn?</p> - -<p>"Of course this is a mere temporary step, as I said before," urged her -aunt. "I shall do much better for you in the autumn; I have great hopes -of getting you a comfortable home through some of my friends, and as a -favour to <em>me</em>. So, meanwhile, will you go to Mrs. Kane's or not?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, aunt; I will do whatever you please."</p> - -<p>"Very well, then, that is settled. I must get your things done up a -little first. Your aunt Sophia sent ten pounds for you, and I was -thinking that as the girls were going out of mourning—three months, -you know, is ample for an uncle—that you might help Plunket to remodel -one or two of their dresses for yourself."</p> - -<p>Helen felt a lump in her throat, that nearly choked her. She would wear -a cast-off garment of Mrs. Home's with pleasure, and accept it as it -was meant; but Clara's and Carrie's!—never! And she managed to stammer -out,—</p> - -<p>"No, thank you, Aunt Julia; I shall do very well."</p> - -<p>"But that black every-day dress is not fit to be seen."</p> - -<p>"It will do in the school-room,—and I shall get another."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 226]</span></p> - -<p>"Now I consider that wanton extravagance, when you can have Clara's -for nothing. Perhaps your dignity is offended?" and she laughed at the -mere idea of such a possibility, and then added, "By the way, <em>are</em> you -proud?"</p> - -<p>Helen made no reply, but bent her eyes on her work.</p> - -<p>"Then, my dear child, the sooner you get rid of that folly the -better,—for poverty, and pride, are no match for one another."</p> - -<p>"How soon did you say I was to go to Mrs. Kane's, aunt?"</p> - -<p>"On Monday next. You can leave your big box here still, and if you like -to come over to lunch every second Sunday, you may do so. But I doubt -if you will care for the long walk across the park,—or if Mrs. Kane -could spare a servant to walk home with you."</p> - -<p>"Then, thank you, I won't mind."</p> - -<p>"Well, dear," rising as if a load had been removed from her mind, -"I believe we have settled everything satisfactorily. It is so much -pleasanter to talk over these matters face to face. And now, love, -I'll say good-night. I daresay you would like to finish Carrie's -handkerchief before you go upstairs." Then, stooping and kissing her, -she added, "Be sure you put the lamp out carefully," and with this -parting injunction, Aunt Julia opened the door, and departed, leaving -her orphan niece alone with her own thoughts.</p> - -<p>Helen stitched away mechanically for nearly ten minutes, then she laid -down her work, and sat with her hands lying idly in her lap, and her -eyes riveted upon the rose-coloured lamp-shade, but her thoughts did -not take any reflection from that brilliant hue. The life that had -begun so brightly now stretched out before her mental vision as grey -and dreary as a winter's day. She was imperiously summoned to work for -herself, to take up her post in the battle of existence, to toil for -her daily bread for the future,—her only aim being to lay by some -provision for her old age; she saw before her years of drudgery, with -but this end in view. She had no friends, no relations, no money. A -cold, dull despair settled down upon her soul, as she sat in the same -attitude for fully an hour. At last she rose, folded up her work, - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 227]</span> - -carefully extinguished the lamp, and then made her way noiselessly up -to her own apartment under the slates.</p> - - -<hr class="r15" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXVIII">CHAPTER XXVIII.<br /><br /> -<span class="small">MALVERN HOUSE.</span></h2> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container34"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="blockquot"> -<div class="verse first-line">"Come what, come may—</div> -<div class="verse indent3">Time and the hour runs through the roughest day."</div> - </div> - </div> - </div> -</div> -<div class="sig-left60"><span style="margin-left: 1em;"><cite>Macbeth.</cite></span></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">A</span> few days after her aunt had thus frankly unfolded her plans, Helen -was out shopping,—officiating as companion and carrier to her cousin -Clara—and again encountered Mr. Quentin. He was strolling down -Piccadilly, looking like a drawing from a tailor's fashion plate, and -evidently in a superbly contented frame of mind. On this occasion -(being alone) he condescended to accost Miss Denis, entirely ignoring -their previous meeting in the park.</p> - -<p>"Delighted to see you,"—shaking her vigorously by the hand. "And how -long have you been in town?"</p> - -<p>"Nearly two months."</p> - -<p>"I need not ask you how you are?"—Yes, to himself, she was getting -back her looks—"And where are you staying?"</p> - -<p>"With my aunt—in Upper Cream Street."</p> - -<p>"Upper Cream Street!" he echoed, with increased respect in his tone, -and a look of faint surprise in his dreamy blue eyes. "Then I shall -certainly make a point of coming to see you.—What is your number?"</p> - -<p>"Thank you, very much; but I am leaving on Monday—(this was -Saturday)—and," looking him bravely in the face, she added, "I am -going to a situation. I am going out as a governess."</p> - -<p>Mr. Quentin was somewhat disconcerted by this rather blunt -announcement, but he did not lose his presence of mind, and said in his -most airy manner,—</p> - -<p>"Oh, really!—well, then, on another occasion I may hope to be more - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 228]</span> - -fortunate—during the holidays, perhaps?" glancing interrogatively at -Clara Platt, who returned his gaze with a stare of dull phlegmatic -hauteur, implying an utter repudiation of her cousin, and all her -concerns.</p> - -<p>Turning once more to Helen, he said,—</p> - -<p>"Heard any news from Port Blair?"</p> - -<p>"No, not lately."</p> - -<p>"Awful hole, wasn't it? I wonder we did not all hang ourselves, or go -mad!"</p> - -<p>"I liked it very much, I must confess," she replied, rather shyly.</p> - -<p>"Oh!" shrugging his shoulders, "every one to their taste, of course. -No doubt it seemed an earthly Paradise to a young lady just out from -school; and you had it all your own way, you know. By-the-by, I wonder -what has become of Lisle? Some one said he was in California,—I -suppose <em>you</em> have not heard?"</p> - -<p>There was a half-ironic, half-bantering look in his eyes, and the same -amiable impulse that impelled him to pull the legs off flies when he -was a pretty little boy, was actuating him now.</p> - -<p>"I," she stammered, considerably taken aback by this unexpected -question, and meeting his glance with a faint flush,—"Oh, no."</p> - -<p>"Well, I see that I am detaining you now,"—with another glance at -Clara—"I hope we shall meet again before long; good-bye," and with -a smile and sweep of his hat, he walked away in a highly effective -manner. He was scarcely out of earshot, ere Miss Platt burst forth, as -if no longer able to restrain herself,—</p> - -<p>"Helen, how could you! How <em>could</em> you tell him all our private -affairs. I never was so disgusted in my life. What was the good of -informing him that you were going to be a governess, and, as it were, -thrusting the news down his throat?"</p> - -<p>"What was the harm? For the future, of course, he will drop my -acquaintance. Though there is nothing degrading in the post, I am quite -certain that he, as he would call it, 'draws the line at governesses,' -and, indeed,—from what I have heard you say—so do you."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 229]</span></p> - -<p>"Don't be impertinent to me, if you please, Helen. I think you totally -forget yourself sometimes, and all you owe to mother and to us."</p> - -<p>"You need not be afraid, that I shall <em>ever</em> allow such a heavy -obligation to escape my memory," returned Helen, with complete -equanimity.</p> - -<p>Was she likely to forget these months of making, and mending, parcel -carrying, and general slavery to her cousins Clara and Carrie? Her -companion was conscious that there was a hidden sting in this speech, -but contented herself with gobbling some incoherent remark, lost in her -throat, about "ingratitude" and "insolence." After this little skirmish -the two ladies did not exchange another syllable, and they reached -their own hall door in dead silence.</p> - -<p>"Odious, detestable girl!" cried Clara to her sister, as she flung off -her hat, and tore off her gloves in their mutual bower. "What do you -think? When we were coming home we met that Mr. Quentin, and he stopped -and talked to her for ever so long, and she never <em>introduced</em> me!"</p> - -<p>"Well, I'm sure! However, it was no loss, you know he has not sixpence."</p> - -<p>"No; but listen. He asked her where she was staying, and said he was -coming to call, and she actually told him, with the utmost composure, -that he need not mind, as she was going to a situation on Monday as -governess—I was crimson! I'm sure she did it out of pure spite, just -to make me feel uncomfortable."</p> - -<p>"Not a doubt of it," acquiesced her sister. "How excessively annoying! -That man knows the Sharpes, and Talbots, and Jenkins', and the whole -thing will come out now; after all the trouble we have taken to keep it -quiet, and telling every one she was going to friends in the suburbs."</p> - -<p>"Yes," chimed in Clara, wrathfully. "What possesses people to persecute -us with questions about our cousin—our <em>pretty</em> cousin, forsooth! Such -a sweet-looking, interesting girl. Pah! I'm perfectly sick of her name, -and the prying and pushing of one's acquaintance, is really shameless. -Old Mrs. Parsons has returned to the charge again and again. She has no -more tact or delicacy than a cook. Do we ever worry her, about <em>her</em> - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 230]</span> - -poor relations, and 'how they have been <em>left</em>,' as she calls it?"</p> - -<p>"No, thank goodness," replied Carrie, emphatically; now addressing -herself to her own plain reflection in the looking-glass. "There is -no coarse, vulgar curiosity about <em>us</em>, I am happy to say. <em>We</em> are -ladies."</p> - -<p>And with this sustaining conviction in their bosoms, these two sweet -sisters descended affectionately arm in arm to luncheon.</p> - -<p>On Monday morning, Mrs. Platt herself carried her niece to her future -abode in the family brougham. Their destination was a square, detached, -red brick mansion, remarkable for long rows of windows with brown wire -blinds, an outward air of primness bordering on severity, and a brass -plate on the gate the size of a tea-tray, which bore the following -address: "Malvern House.—Mrs. Kane's establishment for young ladies."</p> - -<p>As Helen and her aunt ascended the spotless steps, and rang the -dazzling bell, the sound of many pianos, all discoursing different -tunes, scales, songs, and exercises, was absolutely deafening.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Kane received her new governess very graciously, and when Mrs. -Platt had taken her departure, she personally introduced her to the -scene of her future labours without any unnecessary delay, sweeping -down upon the classes with Miss Denis in her train, and launching her -into school-life with a neat little speech, which had done worthy -service on similar occasions.</p> - -<p>The school-room was a long apartment, lighted by five windows and lined -with narrow black desks, at which were seated about fifty girls; and -although silence was the rule, a little low buzz, a kind of intangible -humming of the human voice, was distinctly audible to the new arrival, -as she stood in the midst of what, to a timid young woman, would have -seemed a kind of social lion's den.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Kane had twenty boarders and thirty day scholars; and between -the two parties an internecine war was quietly but fiercely carried -on from term to term, and from year to year, and handed down from one -generation to another, as faithfully as the feud between the Guelphs -and Ghibellines. It was rumoured in both factions that Bogey's - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 231]</span> - -successor ("Bogey" was their flattering sobriquet for their late -governess) "had come in a carriage and pair; Annie Jones had seen it -out of the music-room window;" and the young ladies were inclined to -treat her with more tolerance, than if she had merely arrived in an -ordinary "growler." Of course, all the hundred eyes were instantly -unwinkingly fixed on the new-comer as she walked up the room in the -wake of her employer. They beheld a young lady in deep mourning, slight -and fair, and—yes—positively pretty! quite as good-looking, and not -much older than Rosalie Gay, the belle of the school. They noticed that -she did not appear the least bit shy or nervous (twelve years in a -similar establishment stood to Helen now); she was not a whit abashed -by the gaze of all these tall, staring girls, who were subsequently -surprised to discover that she was perfectly conversant with school -rules and routine; and more than this, that despite her youth, and fair -sad face, she could be both determined and firm.</p> - -<p>A large staff of masters, who taught music, singing, drawing, dancing, -and literature, came and went all day long at Malvern House; but the -only resident teachers besides Helen, were a Mrs. Lane, a widow, who -looked after the housekeeping, poured out tea, and taught needlework, -and Mademoiselle Clémence Torchon, a Parisienne, with whom Helen found -herself thrown into the closest companionship. They occupied the same -room, sat side by side at table, and walked together daily behind the -long line of chattering boarders. Clémence was a young woman of about -eight-and-twenty, who had come to England more with a view of learning -that language, than of imparting her own tongue. She was square, -and stout, and sallow; was better conversant with French poetry, -than verbs, maintaining her personal dignity by a stolid impassive -demeanour; boasted a noble appetite, and was unblushingly selfish, and -surprisingly mean. She honoured her new companion with a large share -of her confidence, and during their daily airings, poured into her -unwilling ears, the praises of a certain adorable "Jules," and even -compelled her, when half asleep at night, to sit up and listen to his - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 232]</span> - -letters! letters written on many sheets of pink paper, and crammed with -vaguely sentimental stilted sentences, signifying nothing tangible, -nothing matrimonial, but nevertheless affording the keenest pleasure -to Mademoiselle Torchon. The young English teacher could not afford to -quarrel with so close an associate, and feigned a respectable amount of -civility and interest; but how often did she wish "<i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">ce cher Jules</i>," -not to speak of his effusions,—at the bottom of the deep blue sea! -Once or twice mademoiselle had hinted, that she was good-naturedly -prepared to receive a return of confidences in kind; and had even gone -so far as to say, "Have <em>you</em> ever had a lover?"</p> - -<p>Her listener's thoughts turned promptly to a certain moonlight -night, the scent of orange-flowers, the shade of palms, and all the -appropriate accessories of a love-tale, not forgetting Gilbert Lisle's -eloquent dark eyes, and low-whispered, broken vows. Nevertheless, Miss -Denis cleverly parried this embarrassing question, and mademoiselle, -having but little interest to spare from her own affairs, dismissed the -subject with an encouraging assurance "that, perhaps some day or other -she might also have a Jules," as she was, though rather <em>triste</em> and -frightfully thin, "<i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">pas mal pour une Anglaise!</i>"</p> - -<p>Mrs. Kane withdrew into private life the moment that school hours were -over. When the bell rang at four o'clock for the departure of the day -scholars, she disappeared and left the burden of surveillance to Miss -Denis and mademoiselle—the latter, like the unselfish darling that she -was, shuffled off her share of the load upon her companion's shoulders, -and generally ascended to her own room, where she lay upon her bed, -devouring chocolate-creams and French novels for the remainder of the -day.</p> - -<p>Helen's duties commenced at seven o'clock in the morning, at which hour -she was obliged to be in the school-room, to keep order, and they were -not at an end till she had turned off the gas in the dormitories at -half-past nine at night; after that, her time was her own,—and she was -then at liberty to listen to Clémence's maunderings, and Jules' last -letter.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Kane soon discovered that her new governess was a clever girl, - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 233]</span> - -with stability and force of character beyond her years, moreover, that -she had unusual influence with the pupils, and was popular in the -school-room; so she engaged her permanently at a salary of forty pounds -a year—and washing. This offer was accepted with alacrity, for Mrs. -Platt seemed to have wholly forgotten her niece, and the comfortable -home that she had promised to secure for her, and Helen gladly settled -herself down, as a permanent member of the Malvern House staff. Weeks -rolled into months, months into quarters, and nothing came to break -the dull monotony of her existence, beyond occasional letters from -Mrs. Home and Mrs. Durand, and a visit to Smithson Villa; she actually -hailed the arrival of the yellow brougham, with unalloyed delight, and -had not shrunk from sharing it,—not merely with her hostess, and the -dogs, and the weekly groceries, but with a leg of New Zealand mutton, -that was to furnish forth the family dinner. She liked Lady Grubb, -despite her little eccentricities. She even enjoyed (so low had she -fallen!) the perusal of Mrs. Creery's latest effusions from Port Blair. -In Lady Grubb's back drawing-room, with one of these in her hand, she -seemed to hold in her grasp the last feeble link that bound her to her -former happy life among those distant tropical seas.</p> - -<p>She did her utmost to live altogether in the present, to invest all -her thoughts and energies in her daily tasks, and to shut her eyes to -the future—and still more difficult feat—to close them to the past. -Month after month, she toiled on with busy, unabated zeal (Mrs. Kane -warmly congratulating herself on the possession of such a <i xml:lang="la" lang="la">rara avis</i>, -and giving her mentally, a considerable increase of salary). She rose -early, and went to rest late, her mind was at its fullest tension all -day long; she was working at too high pressure, the strain was beyond -her physical powers, and the consequence was, she broke down. Gradually -she lost sleep, and appetite, became pale, and thin, and haggard.</p> - -<p>"My dear," said Mrs. Kane with some concern, "we must get you away for -a change. The doctor says you ought to go home, and have a good long -rest."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 234]</span></p> - -<p>"But I have no home, Mrs. Kane.—I am an orphan," she returned, -gravely. "I'm not nearly as ill as I seem, in fact I'm not ill at all! -There is nothing the matter with me, I'm as strong as a horse. You must -not mind my <em>looks</em>!"</p> - -<p>"Would you not like to go to your aunt's for a week or two? I see she -has returned from abroad."</p> - -<p>"No, thank you, I would ten times rather go to the poor-house," she -answered, unguardedly. "Excuse me, perhaps I'm a little hasty, but I'm -proud, and I, if I must come to beggary, prefer public charity, to the -private benevolence of—relations."</p> - -<p>But in spite of Helen's repudiation of the hospitality of her kindred, -Mrs. Kane wrote a polite little note to 15, Upper Cream Street, that -brought Mrs. Platt to Malvern House, the very next day,—in a peevish, -not to say injured, frame of mind.</p> - -<p>"Well, Helen," she exclaimed, as her niece entered the drawing-room, -"so I hear you are in the doctor's hands;"—making a peck at her -as she spoke. "Let me see! there's not much the matter with you, I -fancy.—For goodness' sake, don't get the idea into your head that you -are <em>delicate</em>!"</p> - -<p>"You may be sure that that is the last thing I shall do, Aunt Julia."</p> - -<p>"I must talk to Mrs. Kane, and tell her you should take extract of -malt. She will have to fatten you up.—Yes, certainly, you want -fattening;"—speaking exactly as if she were alluding to a young -Christmas turkey. "And so, I hear, you are giving satisfaction, and -that you are a very good musician, and linguist! I am glad your poor -father's extravagant education, has not been entirely thrown away! Mrs. -Kane speaks very highly of you. But, dear me, child, why did you not -take equal advantage of other opportunities; why did you not make hay -in the Andamans?"</p> - -<p>"Hay! aunt. There was none to make, beyond a very small crop in the -General's compound."</p> - -<p>"You know very well what <em>I</em> mean, you provoking girl! I'm certain you -had offers of marriage. Now had you not?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 235]</span></p> - -<p>Helen made no disclaimer to this, beyond a slight shrug of her -shoulders.</p> - -<p>"Come, come! Silence gives consent. How many?"</p> - -<p>"What does it signify, aunt? All girls out there——"</p> - -<p>"That is no answer," persisted Mrs. Platt, tapping her foot on the -floor.</p> - -<p>"Well, I do not think it is fair to tell."</p> - -<p>"But you could have married?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, I suppose I may admit as much as that."</p> - -<p>"And instead of being comfortably settled in your own house, here you -are, slaving away all your best years, and best looks in a school. I'm -sure you are sorry enough <em>now</em>, that you did not say 'yes!'"</p> - -<p>"On the contrary, I have never regretted saying 'no,'—and never will."</p> - -<p>"Perhaps there was some one who did <em>not</em> come forward?" inquired the -elder lady, with a rather sour smile.</p> - -<p>"Perhaps there was, aunt!" she rejoined, with a laugh, that entirely -baffled Mrs. Platt, who, after surveying her for some seconds in -searching silence, exclaimed,—</p> - -<p>"Well, you are a queer girl! I can't make you out! I certainly could -not imagine <em>you</em> caring a straw for any man! Your face entirely -belies your real disposition; it gives people the idea that you are -capable of deep feelings—perhaps of what is called '<i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">une grande -passion</i>'—whereas, in reality, you are cold and as unresponsive as the -typical iceberg. However, considering your present circumstances, and -youth, and good looks,—perhaps it is just as well!"</p> - -<p>Having delivered herself of this opinion, as though it were an oracle, -Mrs. Platt sank into a tone of easy confidential discourse, and -imparted to her listener, that her recent campaign on the Continent, -had not been entirely barren of results. A certain elderly widower, -had been "greatly attracted" by Clara, and had paid her considerable -attention, and that it was not unlikely, that they would have a wedding -before very long. And after a good deal more in this strain, and yet -more, on the subject of the frightful expenses she had incurred abroad, -and the paralyzing prices of some of the French hotels, Mrs. Platt, - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 236]</span> - -with a final recommendation of extract of malt, went her way, and drove -home alone, in her comfortable, plush-lined brougham.</p> - -<p>Helen continued to struggle on from day to day, and conscientiously -fulfilled her allotted duties. She indignantly refused to accept the -<i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">rôle</i> of invalid; she told herself that, could she but tide over -the next six weeks, she would contrive a trip to some cheap seaside -resort, and there recruit her shattered health—her health that was her -only capital! What was to become of her if she broke down? she would -have no resource but charity! She shivered at the very thought. Each -day her round of tasks became more of an effort; she felt as if some -dreadful, unknown illness was lying in wait, and dogging her steps hour -after hour. Sometimes the room swam round, and figures and words in -exercise-books seemed to mix and run about before her aching eyes. But -so far, by sheer force of will she fought off the enemy, and fiercely -refused to surrender.</p> - -<p>When ten days had elapsed, Mrs. Platt was once more in Mrs. Kane's -drawing-room, the bearer of a letter in her pocket, that she flattered -herself would remove her poor relation entirely out of her own orbit.</p> - -<p>"My dear, I declare you look really ill—very ill!" she exclaimed, -as her niece entered. "Don't come near me,"—moving suddenly across -the room, and making a gesture of repudiation with both hands,—"keep -away, there's a good girl! I'm certain you are sickening for -something,—diphtheria or small-pox! Small-pox is raging. You must see -a doctor immediately, and take precautions. If it is anything, you will -have to be sent to a hospital at <em>once</em>!"</p> - -<p>"You need not be the least alarmed, Aunt Julia; there is nothing the -matter with me. My head aches, and I'm tired sometimes; that is all, I -assure you."</p> - -<p>"Oh, well,"—rather relieved—"I'm sure I <em>hope</em> so, otherwise it would -be most awkward! I understand now, that you really require a change, -and it is principally about that, I have come over to see you. I have -had a letter I wish to show you,"—sinking into an easy chair, and -commencing to fumble in her pocket. "Yes, here it is,"—handing it - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 237]</span> - -to her niece, who unfolded it, and ran her eyes over the following -effusion:—</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -"<span class="smcap">Dearest Mother</span>,—Carrie and I cannot possibly go home this week, -there is so much coming off; and <em>Mr. Jones is here</em>! Please send down -our black lace dresses, our new opera cloaks, and some flowers from -that man in the Bayswater Road. We shall be rather short of money, -so you might enclose some—say, a five pound note—in an envelope in -my dress pocket. So sorry you are having all this worry about Helen. -What a tiresome creature she is! Of course it is quite out of the -question, that we should take her in; be <em>sure</em> you impress that very -firmly on her mind, mother dear. Is there not a convalescent home for -broken-down governesses? Some charitable institution that she could go -to?—" -</div> - -<p>"Charitable institution!" echoed Helen, aloud.</p> - -<p>"Oh, dear me! I believe I've given you the wrong letter," -exclaimed Mrs. Platt, in great confusion. "Here! this must be your -uncle's,"—extending her hand as she spoke. "I'm getting so blind, and -this room is so dark, I really can't see what I'm doing," she added, in -a rather apologetic tone, her eyes sinking before her niece's,—for she -saw in them that she had read what Carrie had written; as for Helen, -her heart beat unusually fast, her nerves were on edge, her wrath was -kindled.</p> - -<p>"Quite out of the question that we should take her in!" She had never -dreamt of being lodged again under her aunt's roof, but somehow, seeing -the fact so plainly stated in black and white, stung her to revolt.</p> - -<p>What had her aunt and cousins done for her, that she should be sent -hither or thither at their bidding? She had toiled for them, as an -upper servant, a lady help, in return for food and lodging, and she was -now wholly independent, and earning her own living by incessant hard -work. These thoughts flew through her mind as she opened letter No. 2, -which was written in a small cramped hand on a large sheet of paper, -and ran as follows:—</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 238]</span></p> - -<p class="sig20">"Crowmore,</p> -<p class="sig10">"Terryscreen, May 8th.</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> -"<span class="smcap">Dear Madam</span>,—I am this day in receipt of your communication, -informing me that my late wife's niece, Helen Denis, is in England, -an orphan, and entirely dependent on her friends."—"Dependent -on her friends!" re-read Helen, quivering with indignation and -self-restraint—"I shall be glad to give her a home under my roof, and -if you will favour me with her address I shall correspond with her -personally, and make all needful arrangements for her journey to this -place. -</div> - -<p class="sig-left45">"I am, Madam,</p> -<p class="sig-left50">"Your obedient servant,</p> -<p class="sig-left55 smcap">"Malachi Sheridan."</p> - -<p>"A very kind letter," said his niece, gratefully.</p> - -<p>"Yes, poor crazy creature," acquiesced Mrs. Platt, "I suppose he <em>has</em> -lucid intervals,"—then, after a pause, she added—"Of course you will -go, Helen?"</p> - -<p>"I am not sure; I must think it over."</p> - -<p>"Think it over! what nonsense. What more do you want? At any rate, -Helen, bear in mind, that <em>I</em> have done all I can."</p> - -<p>"Yes, Aunt Julia; pray do not trouble yourself any more about me; I -release you of all responsibility on my behalf. Indeed, in future, you -may as well forget my existence!"</p> - -<p>She had risen as she spoke, and leant her elbow on the chimney-piece, -and her head on her hand. She looked unusually tall, and unexpectedly -dignified. For a moment Mrs. Platt felt almost in awe of her penniless -niece, but she soon recovered her ordinary mental attitude, and said -rather sharply,—</p> - -<p>"Don't talk nonsense! I see your nerves and temper are completely -unstrung! I hope you will be all the better for your trip to Ireland, -but I'm <em>afraid</em> you will find Mr. Sheridan's girls, a pair of uncouth, -ill-bred savages, and, of course, the place is quite in the wilds, -and——"</p> - -<p>"So much the better, aunt; I like the wilds, as you call them, and you -know I'm accustomed to savages."</p> - -<p>"Then I'm sure if <em>you</em> are satisfied,—I am," said Mrs. Platt, - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 239]</span> - -huffily. "And now I really must be going, for we have some people -coming to dinner,"—and with a polite message for Mrs. Kane, and -a request that Helen "would write if anything turned up," a vague -sentence, meaning perhaps a good situation, perhaps an offer of -marriage,—Mrs. Platt embraced her niece, and took her departure.</p> - -<p>Helen remained shivering over the drawing-room fire, re-reading -her uncle's letter, and pondering on her future plans. After all, -disappointing as had been her experience of cousins, she might yet draw -a prize in the lottery of fate, and she determined to brave these Irish -Sheridans. She had thirty pounds in her desk, quite a small fortune, -and if the worst came to the worst, she could always beat a retreat. -With this prudent reservation in her mind, and a burning impatience to -escape <em>anywhere</em>, from her present surroundings, she sat down that -very hour, and wrote a grateful acceptance of her uncle's invitation, -and announced her intention of starting for Crowmore, within a week.</p> - - -<hr class="r15" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXIX">CHAPTER XXIX.<br /><br /> -<span class="small">"YOU REMEMBER MISS DENIS?"</span></h2> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container39"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="blockquot"> -<div class="verse first-line">"I say to thee, though free from care,</div> -<div class="verse">A lonely lot, an aimless life,</div> -<div class="verse">The crowning comfort is not there—</div> -<div class="verse indent7">Son, take a wife."</div> - </div> - </div> - </div> -</div> -<div class="sig-left60"><span style="margin-left: 1em;"><cite>Jean Ingelow.</cite></span></div> - -<p><span class="smcap large">Scene</span>: a splendidly furnished dining-room in the most fashionable -square in London; season, end of July; hour, nine p.m.; <i xml:lang="la" lang="la">dramatis -personæ</i>, a father and son; the former, an old gentleman with a red -face, beaky nose, and bristling white hair, is holding a glass of -venerable port between his goggle eye and the light, and admonishing -his companion, a sunburnt young man, who is leaning back in his chair -and carelessly rolling a cigarette between his fingers. A young man so -dark, and tanned, that his visage would not look out of place beneath a -Spanish sombrero; nevertheless, we have no difficulty in recognizing - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 240]</span> - -our former friend, Gilbert Lisle.</p> - -<p>"It's positively indecent for a man of your position to go roaming -the world, like some ne'er-do-well, or family black sheep. FitzCurzon -told me he met you on the stairs of some hotel in San Francisco, in -a flannel shirt, butcher boots, and a coat that would have been dear -at fourpence! He declared, that you looked for all the world like a -digger."</p> - -<p>"Curzon—is—a—puppy, who trots round the globe because he says it's -'the thing to do,'" (imitating a drawl), "and never is seen without -kid gloves, and if asked to dine on bear steaks in the Rockies, would -arrive in evening dress and white tie,—or perish in the attempt; -not that he ever ventures off the beaten track of ocean steamers and -express trains; he could not live without his dressing case, and a hard -day's ride would kill him. He was in the finest country in the world -for sport, and he never fired a cartridge!" It was evident from the -speaker's face, that this latter enormity crowned all.</p> - -<p>"Well, you shot enough for <em>six</em>! I should think you have killed every -animal, from a mosquito to an elephant; this house is a cross between -a menagerie and a museum. You have been away two years this time, Gil. -'Pon my word, you are as bad as the prodigal son." Here he swallowed -the port at a gulp.</p> - -<p>"I admit that I have been to a far country, but you can scarcely -accuse me of wasting my substance in riotous living," remonstrated his -offspring.</p> - -<p>"I accuse you of wasting your time, sir! which in a man in your -position is worse. Why can you not content yourself at home, as I -do, instead of roaming about like a play actor, or the agent for -some patent medicine! Where's this you were last? a cattle ranche -in Texas,—before that, California,—before that, Japan, dining on -boa-constrictors, and puppy dogs; before that,—the deuce only knows; -you are as fond of walking up and down the earth, and going to and -fro—as—as—the devil in the Psalms, or where was it?"</p> - -<p>"My dear father," replied Gilbert, with the utmost goodhumour. "You - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 241]</span> - -have compared me to a black sheep, a digger,—and I suppose, because -it happens to be Sunday evening,—to the prodigal son; and finally, -the devil! None of your illustrations fit me, and the last I repudiate -altogether; <em>his</em> wanderings, if I remember rightly, were in search of -mischief. Mine were merely in quest of amusement."</p> - -<p>"Amusement and mischief are generally the same thing," grunted Lord -Lingard. "Why, the deuce,—you are over thirty, and getting as grey as -a badger.—Why can't you marry and settle?"</p> - -<p>"Some people marry and never settle, others marry, and are settled with -a vengeance," rejoined his son, now proceeding to light his cigarette.</p> - -<p>"Bah! you are talking nonsense, sir, and you know it; a man in your -position must marry—heir to me, heir to your uncle, heir to yourself."</p> - -<p>"Heir to myself," muttered Gilbert, "well, I shall let myself off -cheap. I must marry, must I? <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">Je n'en vois pas la nécessité. Après moi -le déluge.</i>"</p> - -<p>"Oh, hang your French lingo!" growled his father. "If I had not wanted -you to marry, I suppose you'd have brought me home a daughter-in-law -years ago—some barmaid, no doubt."</p> - -<p>"Barmaids may be very agreeable young women; but somehow, I don't think -they are just in my line, sir."</p> - -<p>"Line, sir, line! I'll tell you what <em>is</em> in your line! confounded -obstinacy. You had the same strong will when you were a little chap in -white frocks,—no higher than the poker. Once you took a thing into -your head, nothing would move you."</p> - -<p>"In that respect I believe I take after you," returned his son, with -the deepest respect. "A strong determination to have your own way, -helps a man to shove through life—so I have understood you to say."</p> - -<p>"Had me there, neatly, Gilbert! Yes, you score one. Well—well—but -seriously,—I want to have a little rational talk with you. There -is that fine place of yours in Berkshire, shut up all the year -round—think——"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 242]</span></p> - -<p>"Don't say, of my <em>position</em> again, sir, I implore you," interrupted -his son, with a mock tragic gesture.</p> - -<p>"Well, your stake in the country—think of your tenants."</p> - -<p>"I have remembered them to the tune of a reduction of thirty per -cent.—What more do they want?"</p> - -<p>"They would like you to marry some nice-looking girl, and go down, and -live among them."</p> - -<p>"If I did, and kept up a large establishment, took the hounds, and -kept tribes of servants, and had a wife who dressed in hundred-guinea -gowns, and went in for private theatricals, balls, races,—and probably -betting,—I should not be able to make such a pleasant little abatement -in the rent! How would that be?"</p> - -<p>"You would never marry a minx like that, I should hope! Listen to me, -Gilbert," now waxing pathetic, "I am getting to be an old man, and you -are all I have belonging to me. I am lost here alone in this great -big mansion. Marry, and make your home with me; my bark is worse than -my bite, as you know, I would like to see a woman about the house -again—they are cheerful, and brighten up a place, especially if they -are young and pretty. Just look at the two of us sitting on here -over our coffee till nearly eleven o'clock, simply because the big -drawing-room above is empty.—I am not nearly as keen about the club as -I used to be, and these attacks of gout play the very devil with me."</p> - -<p>And here, to his son's blank amazement, he suddenly dropped into -poetry, and quavered out,—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container38"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="blockquot"> -<div class="verse first-line">"Oh woman! in our hours of ease,</div> -<div class="verse indent2">Uncertain, coy, and hard to please;</div> -<div class="verse">When pain and sickness wring the brow,</div> -<div class="verse indent2">A ministering angel thou."</div> - </div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p>"You speak in the plural, sir," rejoined Gilbert gravely. "You say, -you like to see women about the house, that they are cheerful, they -brighten up a place. Do you suppose—granting that I am a follower of -Mormon—that six would be sufficient?"</p> - -<p>"I'm not in the humour for jokes! I'm serious, Gilbert, whatever you - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 243]</span> - -may be. I want to see a pretty young face in the carriage, and opera -box, and the family diamonds on a pretty neck and arms—they have not -been worn for years—the very sight of them would make any girl jump at -you," he concluded in a cajoling voice.</p> - -<p>"Then, for heaven's sake, don't display them."</p> - -<p>"Gilbert, you are enough to drive me mad. I begin to think—'pon my -word, I begin to suspect—that you have a reason for all this fencing," -glancing at him suspiciously beneath his frost-white eyebrows—"you are -married already, sir; some low-born adventuress, some disreputable——"</p> - -<p>"I am <em>not</em>," interrupted his son with a gesture of impatience.</p> - -<p>"Then you are in love with a married woman!"</p> - -<p>"You seem to have a very exalted idea of my character, sir, but again -you are mistaken."</p> - -<p>"Ha! humph!" tossing off a beaker of port; "then it just comes to this, -you don't think any woman good enough to be the wife of Mr. Lisle! Now -honestly, Gilbert, have you ever seen a girl you would have married?"</p> - -<p>Dead silence succeeded this question.</p> - -<p>"Come, Gilbert," pursued the old gentleman remorselessly.</p> - -<p>"Well, yes—such a person has existed," at length admitted his victim -most reluctantly.</p> - -<p>"And where is she? Why did you not marry her? Where did you meet her?"</p> - -<p>"I met her in the Andamans."</p> - -<p>"The Andamans! Those cannibal islands! This is another of your -confounded jokes!" Now looking alarmingly angry.—"I know as well as -you do, that there are only savages there. Do you take me for a fool, -sir?"</p> - -<p>"There was a large European community at Port Blair. As to taking you -for a fool, it would be the last thing to occur to me—on the contrary, -the young lady took <em>me</em> for one."</p> - -<p>"Then she never made a greater mistake in her life,—never. And why did -it not come off?"</p> - -<p>"She preferred another fellow, that was all."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 244]</span></p> - -<p>"<em>Preferred!</em> humph—good matches must have been growing on the trees -out there. Well, well, well," looking fixedly at his son, "there's as -good fish in the sea as ever were caught—why not fall back on Katie?"</p> - -<p>"It has not come to that <em>yet</em>, sir—and I would sooner, if it was all -the same to you, fall back on a loaded revolver."</p> - -<p>"She has the mischief's own temper, I allow—but what a property! -However, you need not look for money—a pretty, lively English girl, -that wears her own hair and complexion, and that can sing a song or -two, and get out of a carriage like a gentlewoman—that's the style! -Eh, Gilbert?"</p> - -<p>"I suppose so, sir," rejoined his son gloomily; "but as the Irishman -said, 'You must give me a long day—a long day, your honour.'"</p> - -<p>"And the old savage replied—I remember it perfectly—'I'll give you -till to-morrow, the twenty-first of June, the longest day in the year!' -And your shrift shall be a short one, my boy! What are you going to do -with yourself to-morrow?"</p> - -<p>"Do you mean that you would marry me off within the next twelve hours?"</p> - -<p>"No, you young stupid."</p> - -<p>"Oh, well, I want to look in at the Academy and a couple of clubs, and -in the evening I'm going to dine with the Durands senior, and do a -theatre afterwards with the Durands junior."</p> - -<p>"Oh!—Mary and her husband. Mary is a sensible woman. I want to talk to -her. Ask her to dine—say Thursday? Mary has her head screwed on the -right way. I shall consult her about you, Master Gilbert. I'll see what -she advises about you. She shall help me to put the noose round your -neck."</p> - -<p>"The <em>noose</em>, indeed," repeated his son in a tone of melancholy sarcasm.</p> - -<p>"Yes, yes, I'll settle it all with Mary." So saying, the old gentleman -went chuckling from the room in a high state of jubilation.</p> - -<p>The next afternoon Gilbert Lisle formed one of a crowd who were - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 245]</span> - -collected before a certain popular picture at the Royal Academy; but -so far his view had been entirely obscured by the broad back of a -gentleman in front of him; it vaguely occurred to him that there was -something rather familiar in the shape of those broad, selfish-looking -shoulders, when their owner suddenly turned round, and he found himself -face to face with James Quentin.</p> - -<p>"By Jove, old fellow!" exclaimed the latter, shaking his hand -vigorously, "this <em>is</em> a pleasant surprise; and so you have returned -from your travels—where do you hail from last?"</p> - -<p>"Only New York; I arrived two days ago, and feel as if I had been away -for ten years, I'm so out of everything and behind the times,—a second -Rip Van Winkle."</p> - -<p>"Then I suppose you have not heard <em>my</em> little bit of news?"</p> - -<p>"No—o—but I fancy I can guess it, it's not a very difficult -riddle—you are married!"</p> - -<p>"Right you are! a second Daniel! Come away and speak to Mrs. Q., she -will be delighted to see you."</p> - -<p>Gilbert had not bargained for this—he would much rather never meet -Helen Denis again; however, there was no resisting Apollo's summons, -and in another moment he was standing before a velvet settee, and ere -he was aware of it, his companion was saying, "Jane, my love, let me -present an old friend—Mr. Lisle, Mrs. Quentin."</p> - -<p>He glanced down, and saw a magnificently-attired, massive-looking dame, -over whose head fully forty summers had flown; she was smiling up at -him most graciously, and holding out a well-gloved hand—this lady was -indisputably Mrs. Quentin—but where was Helen Denis?</p> - -<p>Her new acquaintance made a gallant struggle to master his amazement, -and to utter a few bald, commonplace remarks about the heat and the -pictures; and presently suffered himself to be borne onward by the -crowd. But Jim Quentin was not going to lose sight of him thus. He had -married a wife considerably beneath him in birth, and it behoved him to -keep a fast hold of his well-born friends, and a secure footing on the -social ladder.</p> - -<p>Lisle was a popular man; he had discovered this fact on his return to - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 246]</span> - -England, and had made considerable capital out of his name in various -ways. It had proved to be an open sesame to a rather exclusive circle, -who cordially welcomed Apollo when they heard that he and Gilbert Lisle -were "like brothers," and had lived under the same roof for months. -Lisle had been useful at Port Blair, and he would be useful in London.</p> - -<p>"Well, were you surprised to find that there was a Mrs. Quentin?" he -asked, as he came up with his quarry in a comparatively empty room, -chiefly devoted to the display of etchings on large stands and easels.</p> - -<p>"No, of course not—but," looking him steadily in the face, "she is not -the lady I expected to see."</p> - -<p>"What!" then all of a sudden he remembered Helen—Helen, who had been -completely swept out of his mind by a twelvemonth of busy intrigues, -and such exciting pursuits as fortune-hunting, tuft-hunting, and -place-hunting. "Oh! to be sure, you were thinking of Miss Denis, but -that did not come off, you see," he added with careless effrontery. -"She was all very well—<i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">pour passer le temps</i>—in an ungodly hole like -the Andamans, but, by George! England is quite another affair."</p> - -<p>"Is it—and why?" inquired his listener, rather grimly.</p> - -<p>"Oh! my dear fellow, she has not a rap—she was literally -penniless—when her father died, she was destitute."</p> - -<p>"But you always understood that she had no fortune."</p> - -<p>"Yes, but when I came to look at it, I saw that it would never do. -I had next to nothing; she had nothing at all; one cannot live on -love, and I don't think I was ever really serious. I did you a good -turn though; <em>you</em> were rather inclined to make a fool of yourself in -that quarter," administering a playful poke in the ribs, and grinning -significantly.</p> - -<p>But the grin on his face faded somewhat suddenly as he encountered a -look in his companion's eyes that made him feel curiously uncomfortable.</p> - -<p>"Where is she now?" inquired Lisle, speaking in a low, repressed sort -of tone.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 247]</span></p> - -<p>"'Pon my honour, I can't tell you! I believe she has gone out as -governess—best thing she could do, you know; better than marrying a -poor devil like me," he added apologetically. "She was a nice enough -little girl, and she had not half a bad time of it in the Andamans. I -daresay she'll pick up some fellow at home. Look here, old chappie," -button-holeing him as he spoke, "this is my card and address; now, -what day will you come and dine? Got a tip-top cook,—not that you -ever <em>were</em> particular,—my wife has pots of money, and we give rather -swagger entertainments. Whatever day will suit you will suit me; you -have only to say the word."</p> - -<p>"I have only to say the word, have I!" cried Gilbert, suddenly blazing -into passion; "then I say that you are a scoundrel, Mr. Quentin. I say -that you have behaved like one to that girl, that's what <em>I</em> say."</p> - -<p>Apollo recoiled precipitately. He did not like the angry light in his -old friend's face, nor the manner in which he grasped his cane.</p> - -<p>"You jilted her, on your own showing, in the most deliberate, -cold-blooded manner. Jilted her because you were tired of a passing -fancy, and she was left, as you say, penniless and destitute. She may -thank her stars for a lucky escape! Better she should beg her bread -than be the wife of a cur like you! There's your card," tearing it into -pieces and scattering it on the floor. "In my opinion you should be -kicked out of decent society, and turned out of every respectable club -in London. I beg that, for the future, you will be good enough to give -<em>me</em> a wide berth," and with a nod of unspeakable contempt he turned -and walked away, leaving his foe absolutely speechless with rage and -amazement.</p> - -<p>Underneath these mixed feelings lay a smouldering conviction that -Lisle, for all his customary <em>nonchalance</em>, could be as bitter and -unsparing an enemy as he had been a generous and useful friend. -Pleasant, stately houses would close—nay, slam their doors on him at a -hint from Lisle, and if the story got about the clubs, and was looked -at from Lisle's point of view,—it would be the very deuce! In his -exaltation he had somewhat forgotten the <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">rôle</i> he formerly played - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 248]</span> - -with his fellow inmate,—and we know that to a liar a good memory is -indispensable,—he had spoken rashly and foolishly with his lips, and -had been thus summarily condemned out of his own mouth! Alas! alas! he -already saw his circle of well-beloved, titled friends narrowing to -vanishing point, as he now recalled a veiled threat uttered by the very -man who had just denounced him! On the whole, Mr. Quentin thought that -his little comedy with Miss Denis would prove an expensive performance, -and he returned to his wealthy partner, feeling very much like a beaten -hound.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>That evening, as Gilbert Lisle drove up to the door of Mrs. Durand's -mansion, he said to himself, "Here I come to the very house of all -others where I am most likely to hear the sequel to that rascal's -story. Mrs. Durand is safe to know all about Helen Denis,—and if she -is the woman I take her to be, she won't be long before I know as much -as she does herself! I shall say nothing—I shall not ask a single -question about the young lady; not, indeed, that it personally concerns -me whether she is on the parish or not. Still, I should like to hear -what has become of her."</p> - -<p>(He made these resolutions as he entered, and passed upstairs, and -presented himself in the drawing-room.)</p> - -<p>Strange to say, Mrs. Charles Durand had arrived at a precisely similar -determination with regard to him. Hitherto they had only exchanged -a few hasty words, had no opportunity of raking up "old days," but -to-night it would be different; "At dinner he is sure to make some -allusion to Port Blair, and her name will come on the <em>tapis</em>, -and I can easily judge by his looks, if there was anything in my -suspicions—and very strong suspicions they were! However, I won't be -the first to break the ice; as far as Helen is concerned—I shall be -dumb."</p> - -<p>Thus Mrs. Durand to her own reflection in the mirror, as she attired -herself for the evening.</p> - -<p>Here were two people about to meet, each resolved to be silent, and -each determined to hear the other's disclosures on an intensely - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 249]</span> - -interesting subject. As is usual in such cases, the lady yielded first; -her opponent was habitually reserved, and it came as second nature -to him to wait and to hold his peace. He had one false alarm during -dinner, when his former playmate, addressing him across the table, -said, with her brightest air,—</p> - -<p>"I saw a particular friend of <em>yours</em> to-day; who do you think it was?"</p> - -<p>"I have so many particular friends," he replied, "that's rather a large -order."</p> - -<p>"Well, a <em>lady</em> friend."</p> - -<p>"A lady friend! They are not much in my way."</p> - -<p>"A lady you knew in the Andamans," looking at him keenly.</p> - -<p>He cast a quick, questioning glance at her, but remained otherwise -dumb, and she, smiling at her own little <em>ruse</em>, said,—</p> - -<p>"In short, our well-beloved Mrs. Creery! She was driving in the park, -in a dreadful yellow affair, like an omnibus cut down, along with -another remarkable old person. She was delighted to see me, and hailed -me as if I had been a long-lost child!"</p> - -<p>Mrs. Durand smiled to herself again. She was thinking of the battle -royal she had fought with Mrs. Creery over the reputation of the very -gentleman who was now her <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">vis-à-vis</i>.</p> - -<p>"She asked me particularly for you, and sent you a message—I'm not -sure that it was not her <em>love</em>—and told me to be sure and tell you -that Monday is her day."</p> - -<p>"I really don't see any connection between Mrs. Creery's Mondays and -myself," coolly rejoined that lady's former <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">bête-noire</i>. And, with a -few general remarks about Port Blair, the monsoon, the sharks, and the -shells, the conversation drifted back to less out-of-the-way regions.</p> - -<p>The younger members of the party set out after dinner for the Savoy, to -see Gilbert and Sullivan's latest production. They consisted of Captain -and Mrs. Durand, two young lady cousins, a guardsman, and Mr. Lisle. -Mrs. Durand and the latter occupied the back seat in the box, and -discoursed of the piece, mutual friends, and mutual aversions, with a - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 250]</span> - -scrupulous avoidance of the one topic nearest their hearts.</p> - -<p>At last, the lady could stand it no longer; and, during the interval -after the first act, she turned to her companion, and said rather -sharply, "You remember Miss Denis?"</p> - -<p>"Miss Denis—oh, yes! of course I do!"</p> - -<p>"Those are her cousins in the box next the stage—those girls in pink."</p> - -<p>"Is she living with them?"</p> - -<p>"Oh dear no! She stayed a month or two on her first arrival, and, -by all accounts, they led her the life of a modern Cinderella, and -afterwards turned her off to earn her bread as a governess."</p> - -<p>"Indeed!" he ejaculated, with such stoical indifference that Mrs. -Durand felt that she could have shaken him. But, after a moment's -silence, he added, "I always thought she had married Quentin—until -to-day."</p> - -<p>"Oh, nonsense! You are not really serious! Of course you are aware that -your friend, Apollo, has espoused a widow with quantities of money in -the oil trade."</p> - -<p>"Pray do not call him <em>my</em> friend; I am not at all anxious to claim -that honour," he rejoined stiffly.</p> - -<p>"Then you have been quarrelling, I suppose. I wonder if it was about -the usual thing—one of my sex?"</p> - -<p>"It was. I may say as much to <em>you</em>. In fact it was about Miss -Denis—he treated her shamefully."</p> - -<p>"What makes you think so?"—opening her eyes very wide, and shutting up -her fan.</p> - -<p>"Because he was engaged to her at Port Blair. He told me so. And when -she was left penniless, he jilted her for this rich widow."</p> - -<p>"He told you that he was engaged to Helen? Oh," drawing a long breath, -"never!"</p> - -<p>"Yes, and showed me a ring she had given him."</p> - -<p>"Again I say, never, never, <em>never</em>!"</p> - -<p>"My dear Mrs. Durand, there is no good in saying, never, never, never, -like that. The ring he exhibited, was one that I had given Miss Denis -myself!"</p> - -<p>"Oh, sets the wind in that quarter!" mentally exclaimed the matron; "I -thought as much." But aloud she replied, "Was it a curious old ring, - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 251]</span> - -without any stones, that was stolen from her the night of the ball?"</p> - -<p>"It was the ring you describe. But it was not stolen, for she gave -it to Quentin when he went to the Nicobars as a '<i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">gage d'amour</i>.' I -expected that he would have married her as soon as possible after her -father's death; indeed, I understood that he was returning from Camorta -with that intention. But you see I have been so completely out of the -world, that I heard nothing further till I met Quentin and his wife -at the Academy to-day; and he calmly informed me that he had never -seriously contemplated marrying Miss Denis, and that the Andamans and -London are quite a different pair of shoes! Pray, do you call that -honourable conduct?"</p> - -<p>"You are quite, quite wrong!" cried Mrs. Durand, excitedly. "Now you -have said your say, it is my turn to speak; and speak I will," she -added with a gleam of determination in her eye.</p> - -<p>"Oh, certainly!" returned her listener, with rather dry politeness.</p> - -<p>"Helen was, and is, a particular friend of mine, and I happen to <em>know</em> -that she could not endure Apollo Quentin! She did not even think him -good-looking! and he bored her to death. He stuck to her like burr, and -she could not shake him off. She would ten times rather have talked -to Captain Rodney, or Mr. Green,—or even to <em>you</em>! She was no more -engaged to him than I was. She never gave him that ring."—Here her -listener stirred, and made a gesture of impatient protestation.—"That -ring was <em>stolen</em>, and sold for twenty rupees," concluded Mrs. Durand, -in her most forcible manner.</p> - -<p>"Stolen—sold!" he echoed, turning towards her so suddenly that it made -her start. "Is this true?"</p> - -<p>"<em>True?</em>" she repeated indignantly.</p> - -<p>"I do not mean to doubt you for one second; but you may have been -deceived."</p> - -<p>"At any rate, I had the benefit of my <em>own</em> eyes and ears. They do not -often mislead me."</p> - -<p>"Then how——"</p> - -<p>"If you will only have patience you shall hear all. Helen stayed with - -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</span> - -me for the last week at Port Blair; and the night before she sailed, -when I went into her room I discovered Fatima grovelling on the ground -at her feet, and holding the hem of her dress, and whining,—'A—ma! -A—ma!' in true native fashion. 'I very bad woman, Missy,' she was -saying; 'and I very sorry <em>now</em>. I stealing jewels—why for I sent -here? And now I done take, Missy's ring and sell for twenty rupees.'"</p> - -<p>"Sold it! To whom?" interrupted Mr. Lisle, his dark face flushing to -his temples.</p> - -<p>"<em>That</em> she refused to divulge. All we could prevail on her to confess -was, that she had taken it the night of the ball, and that she did -not think it was of any value; but seeing how much trouble Missy was -in,—and Missy going away to England, she was plenty sorry."</p> - -<p>"Stolen the night of the ball—sold for twenty rupees, and Quentin -showed it to me the next morning!" exclaimed Lisle.</p> - -<p>After this summing up, he and Mrs. Durand looked at each other for -about twenty seconds, in dead silence.</p> - -<p>"Where is Miss Denis now?" he inquired in a kind of husky whisper.</p> - -<p>"I wish I could tell you! I'm a miserable correspondent; I never -answered her last letter, written from a school at Kensington. I would -rather walk two miles than write two pages. It's very sad, and gets -me into great disgrace. But though I do not write, I don't <em>forget</em> -people. As soon as I arrived at home I went off to this school to see -Helen, and to make my peace."</p> - -<p>"Yes?"</p> - -<p>"The house was all shut up, blinds down in every window, the cook in -sole charge, every one else away for the holidays. The cook only showed -half her face through the door, and was not at all inclined to be -communicative; but I gave her something to help her memory, and then -she recollected, that six weeks before the school broke up, the English -governess had gone away sick, but she understood that she had not left -for good.—School opens again on the 1st of September," added Mrs. -Durand significantly.</p> - -<p>"Meanwhile, where is she?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 253]</span></p> - -<p>"That is more than I can say."</p> - -<p>"Perhaps her cousins would tell you," glancing over at the Miss Platts.</p> - -<p>"Not they—if they did know, I doubt if they would inform you, as they -are even more disagreeable than they look,—and that is saying much. -However, I shall get a friend to sound them about their cousin. I -believe they treated her like a servant, and made her carry parcels, -run messages, mend their clothes, and button their boots!"</p> - -<p>"How did you hear this? from Miss Denis?"</p> - -<p>"She never named them. I'm afraid to tell you, lest you should think me -a second Mrs. Creery."</p> - -<p>"No fear—there could be but <em>one</em> Mrs. Creery—she is matchless."</p> - -<p>"Well, my sister's maid, Plunket—now really this is downright -gossip—came to her from the Platts, and one day we were talking about -fine heads of hair, and she described the beautiful hair of a poor -young lady in her last place,—Mrs. Platt's niece, Miss Denis; and so -it all came out, for of course I pricked up my ears when I heard her -name."</p> - -<p>During this conversation the curtain had risen on the second act, and -the entire audience was convulsed with delight at one of Grossmith's -songs, and yet these two talked on, and never once cast their eyes -to the stage. Indeed, Mrs. Durand had almost turned her back on the -actors, and was wholly engrossed in an interesting little drama in -private life. The other occupants of the box were in ecstasies with -the performers, and Captain Durand, after gasping and wiping his eyes, -turned to his wife impatiently, and said,—</p> - -<p>"Well, really, Mary, you might just as well have stayed at home, and -talked there; you have done nothing but gossip. I thought you were wild -to see this piece. If you are so bored yourself, you might at least -give Lisle a chance of enjoying it!"</p> - -<p>"Charley says I must not go on chattering any longer, distracting -your attention from the play. We can finish our conversation another -time."—So saying, she took up her opera glass, and addressed herself -seriously to the performance.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 254]</span></p> - -<p>As for Gilbert Lisle, he leant back in his chair, and also fixed his -eyes on the stage, but he saw absolutely nothing. If he had been asked -to describe a character, a scene, or a song, he could not have done so -to save his life. His mind was in a state of extraordinary confusion; -he was dazed, overwhelmed, at the situation in which he found himself.</p> - -<p>So he had been the dupe, and tool, of Quentin from first to last! It -seemed incredible, that Quentin, to gain a momentary empty triumph, -had stooped to theft, in order to bolster up a lie, and maintain his -reputation as a lady-killer. Then as for Miss Denis,—if she had not -been engaged to Quentin, and had never parted with the ring, what must -she think of him? He held his breath at this poignant reflection. If -any one had jilted her,—if any one had behaved vilely, if any one -was a dishonoured traitor, it was he—Gilbert Lisle—sitting there -staring stupidly before him, surrounded by ignorant and confiding -friends, who believed him to be a gentleman, and a man of honour! As -he cast his eyes over a mental picture, and saw himself, as he must -appear to Helen, he was consumed by a fever of shame, that seemed to -devour him. To live under the imputation of such conduct, was torture -of the most exquisite description to a man of his temperament;—who -had such a delicate sense of personal honour, and such chivalrous -reverence for other people's veracity, that he had fallen an easy prey -to an unscrupulous brazen-tongued adventurer, like James Quentin. -Fury against Quentin, restored faith in his lost <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">fiancée</i>, were -all secondary to one scorching thought, that seemed to burn his -very brain—the thought of the disgrace that lay upon his hitherto -unblemished name. To have sworn to return to a girl,—to have vowed -to make her his wife,—and to have miserably deserted her, without -message, or excuse,—left her to bear the buffets of adversity as best -she could,—to earn her own living, or to eat the bread of charity, was -maddening—maddening. He must get out of the theatre into the open air; -but first he leant over Mrs. Durand's chair, and spoke to her in a few -broken and imperfect sentences.</p> - -<p>"What you have told me to-night, has a significance that you cannot -guess" (oh, could she not?) "It alters—it may alter—the whole - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 255]</span> - -course of my life. Mrs. Durand—Mary! you were always my friend, be -my friend now. When you get her address, and you will get it—you -<em>must</em> get it,—to-night, to-morrow—you will give it to me in the same -hour—promise."</p> - -<p>"Why should I promise?" she asked playfully, delighted to see the -immovable Gilbert for once a prey to some powerful emotion.</p> - -<p>He was pale—his very lips were trembling, big beads of perspiration -stood upon his temples.</p> - -<p>"Why should I tell you especially?"—she repeated, but looking in his -face, she saw that he was too terribly in earnest to be in the mood for -light badinage. Looking in his face, she read the answer.</p> - -<p>"I <em>see</em>,—yes, you may depend on me."</p> - -<p>Reassured by this pledge, he grasped her hand in silence, and rose -to leave the box. But ere he departed, she turned her head over her -shoulder, and murmured behind her fan, "I believe it is all going to -come right at last.—And, Gilbert," lowering her voice to a whisper, "I -always suspected that it was <em>you</em>."</p> - -<p>"What's the matter? What has become of Lisle?" inquired her husband, -looking sharply round as he heard the door close. "Where is he? Why has -he gone away?"</p> - -<p>"He was not in the mood for light comedy, my dear. He has just heard -something of far more powerful interest than 'The Silver Churn,'" -nodding her head impressively. "You remember a bet you made about him -and Helen Denis, one evening in the Andamans?"</p> - -<p>"I don't remember any bet—but I know you had some impossible idea in -your head."</p> - -<p>"Then <em>I</em> recollect the wager—distinctly—a new bonnet. And my idea -may seem impossible, but it is true. It was <em>not</em> that odious puppy, -Apollo Quentin, who was in love with Helen, it was,—as I repeatedly -told you,—Gilbert Lisle. So to-morrow, my good Charles, I shall go -to Louise's and invest—at your expense—in the smartest bonnet in -London."</p> - -<hr class="r15" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 256]</span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXX">CHAPTER XXX.<br /><br /> -<span class="small">FINNIGAN'S MARE.</span></h2> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container37"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="blockquot"> -<div class="verse">"I do not set my life at a pin's fee."—<cite>Hamlet.</cite></div> - </div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Helen's</span> preparations for departure were rapidly accomplished; she -had no voluminous wardrobe to pack, no circle of farewell visits to -pay. Moreover, she was possessed by a feverish desire to escape, as -far as possible, from maddening pianos, piles of uncorrected exercise -books, and the summons of the inexorable school bell. She set out for -Crowmore on the appointed date, with a delightful sense of recovered -freedom, but—as far as her unknown relatives were concerned—strictly -moderate expectations. Precisely a week after she had received her -uncle's invitation, behold her rumbling across dear, dirty Dublin, in -a dilapidated four-wheeler, drawn by a lame horse—her tender heart -would not suffer her to expostulate with the driver on their snail's -pace, and as the result of her benevolence, she missed her train by -five minutes, and had the satisfaction of spending a long morning, in -contemplating the advertisements in the Broadstone terminus! At length, -after four hours' leisurely travelling, she was deposited at a shed -labelled "Bansha," the nearest station to Crowmore. Bag in hand, she -stepped down on the platform and looked about her; she was apparently -the only passenger for that part of the world, and there was no one -to be seen, except a few countrymen lounging round the entrance—the -invariable policeman, and one porter. She gazed about anxiously, as the -train steamed slowly away, and discovered that she was the cynosure of -every eye, save the porter's, and he was engrossed in spelling out the -address on her trunk.</p> - -<p>"You'll be for the Castle, miss?" he remarked at last, straightening -his back as he spoke.</p> - -<p>"No, for Crowmore, Mr. Sheridan's," she replied, walking out through -the station-house over into the station entrance, in the vague hopes of -finding some conveyance awaiting her, and her baggage—but all that met -her anxious eyes was a little knot of countrymen, who were gossiping - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 257]</span> - -round a rough rider, on a heavy-looking brown colt.</p> - -<p>"Shure, Mr. Sheridan's and the Castle is all wan, miss," said the -porter, who accompanied her, carrying her bag. "The young ladies wor -here this morning, in a machine from Terryscreen, they expected you on -the twelve,—and when you were not on that, they made sure you were -coming to-morrow—they'll be here thin."</p> - -<p>This was but cold comfort to Helen. "How far is it to Crowmore?" she -asked.</p> - -<p>"Well, it's a matter of in or about six mile."</p> - -<p>"And how am I to get there?"</p> - -<p>"Faix, I don't rightly know! unless Larry Flood gives you a lift on -the mail; ayther that, or you could get an asses' car up the street," -indicating a double row of thatched cottages in the distance.</p> - -<p>"And when do you think Larry Flood will be here?" inquired the young -stranger—ignoring his other humiliating suggestion.</p> - -<p>"Troth, an' it would be hard to say!—it entirely depends on the humour -he's in—he calls for the letters," pointing to a bag in the doorway, -"just as he takes the notion, sometimes he is here at five o'clock, and -betimes I've known him call at one in the morning!"</p> - -<p>A sudden interruption made him turn his head, and he added, with -a triumphant slap of his corduroy leg, "Begorra, you are in luck, -Miss,—for here he is now!"</p> - -<p>As he spoke, a red outside car, drawn by a wild-looking chestnut, -wearing a white canvas collar, and little or no harness, came tearing -into the station, amidst a cloud of dust. The driver was a wiry little -man, with twinkling eyes, that looked as if they were never closed, a -protruding under-lip, and an extravagantly wide mouth. He was dressed -in a good suit of dark tweed, and wore a green tie, and a white caubeen.</p> - -<p>"What's this ye have with ye, the day, Larry?" demanded one of the -idlers, as he narrowly examined the animal between the shafts. "May -I never," he added, recoiling a step backwards, and speaking in an -awe-struck tone; "if it isn't Finnigan's mare!"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 258]</span></p> - -<p>"The divil a less!" rejoined Larry, complacently. "Finnigan could get -no good of her, and the old brown was nearly bet up. I'll go bail -she'll travel for <em>me</em>," he added, getting off the car as he spoke, and -giving the collar a hitch.</p> - -<p>But this proud boast was received in ominous silence, and all eyes -were now riveted on Mr. Flood's recent purchase—a white-legged, -malicious-looking, thorough-bred—that was seemingly not unknown to -fame.</p> - -<p>"Well," said a man in a blue-tail coat, after a significantly long -pause; "it's not that she won't travel for ye, there's no fear of -<em>that</em>, I hope you may get some good of her, for she's a great mare -entirely—but she takes a power of humouring."</p> - -<p>"Shure she knocked Finnigan's new spring car to smithereens ere last -week," put in the rider of the coarse-looking brown colt, "not a bit of -it was together, but the wheels, and left Finnigan himself for dead on -the road. Humouring, how are ye?" he concluded, with a kind of scornful -snort.</p> - -<p>"You got her chape, I'll engage, Larry, me darlin'," remarked another -of the idlers.</p> - -<p>"Faix, and I paid enough for her," returned her owner stoutly. "It -isent every wan that would sit over her! she does be a bit unaisy in -herself betimes" (a delicate allusion to her well-known habits of -kicking and bolting). "Howd-somever, she's a grand goer, and I bought -her designedly on purpose for the post.—'Tis <em>she</em> can knock fire out -of the road."</p> - -<p>"Oh! them sprigs of shellelagh can all do that," acquiesced a -bystander, who had hitherto observed a benevolent neutrality; "but they -does be dangerous bastes."</p> - -<p>"What's that you have there, Tom?" inquired Larry, looking at the rough -rider.</p> - -<p>"Oh! a terrible fine colt of Mr. Murphy's—I'm just handling him a bit, -before the next cub-hunting."</p> - -<p>"He is a great plan of a horse," said the man in the blue coat, -speaking with an air of authority, and his hands tucked under his long -swallow-tails.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 259]</span></p> - -<p>"Look at the shoulder on him!" exclaimed a third connoisseur.</p> - -<p>All this was by no means agreeable to Mr. Flood, considering the tepid -praise bestowed on his own purchase.</p> - -<p>"What do you think of her, Larry?" inquired the rider. "Come now, give -us your opinion?" he added in a bantering tone.</p> - -<p>"Well, I think," said Larry, gladly seizing this opportunity to pay -off Tom, the horsebreaker, and eyeing the animal with an air of solemn -scrutiny. "Well, now, I'll just tell ye exactly what I think—I thinks -he looks <em>lonely</em>."</p> - -<p>"Arrah, will ye spake English!" cried his rider indignantly; "shure, -lonely has no meaning at all—nor no sinse."</p> - -<p>"I just mane what I say—he has a lonely look," and with a perceptible -pause, and a wink to the audience, he added, "for the want of a plough -behind him!"</p> - -<p>At this joke there was a roar of laughter from all, save Tom, the -horse-trainer, who glared at Larry in a ferocious manner that was -really fearful to witness, but Larry, nothing daunted, turned to the -porter with an off-hand air, and said,—</p> - -<p>"Anything for me, Pat?"</p> - -<p>"Nothing at all—barrin' the mails—and this young lady! I'm after -telling her, you'll lave her at the gate. She's going to the Castle, -only"—approaching nearer, and whispering behind his hand, with a -significant glance at Finnigan's mare.</p> - -<p>"Oh, the sorra a fear!" rejoined Larry, loudly, and then addressing -Helen, he said,—</p> - -<p>"Up ye git, miss, and I'll rowl ye there as safe as if ye were in a -sate in church."</p> - -<p>It was all very well to say "Up ye git," but, in the first place, -there was no step to the car, and in the second, it is by no means an -easy feat, to climb on any vehicle when in motion, and Larry's rampant -investment kept giving sudden bounds and playful little prancings, that -showed her impatience to be once more on the road. However, by dint -of being held forcibly down by the united strength of two men, she -consented to give the lady passenger an opportunity of scrambling up on -the jarvey, and Larry, having produced a horse-sheet (with a strong - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 260]</span> - -bouquet of the stable), wrapped it carefully about her knees—then -mounting on the other side of the vehicle himself, he laid hold of the -reins, and with a screech to his friends to "give her her head,"—they -were off, as if starting for a flat race—accompanied by a shout of -"Mind yourself, miss," from the friendly porter, and "Safe home, -Larry," from the little knot of spectators, who were gathered round the -station door.</p> - -<p>At first, all the "So-hoing" and "Easy now, my girl," might just as -well have been addressed to the hard flint road, along which they were -rattling. The "girl" kept up what is known as "a strong canter" for -the best part of a mile, and Helen's whole energies were devoted to -clinging on with both hands, as the light post-car swung from side to -side with alarming velocity.</p> - -<p>"You need not be the laste taste unaisy, she's only a bit fresh in -herself," said Larry, soothingly, "and after a while when she settles -down, you'll be delighted with the way she takes hould of the road."</p> - -<p>A very stiff hill moderated the pace, and Finnigan's mare, subsided -perforce into a slashing trot, and "took hold of the road" as if she -were in a passion with it, and would like to hammer it to pieces with -her hoofs. And now at last Helen ventured to release one hand, and -look about her; she was struck with the bright, rich verdure of the -surrounding scenery—Ireland was well named "The Emerald Isle," she -said to herself, as her eyes travelled over a wide expanse of grass, -thick hedges powdered with hawthorn, and neighbouring green hills, -seemingly patched with golden gorse. Very few houses were visible, no -sign of towns or smoky chimneys were to be descried—this was the real -unadulterated country, and she drew a long breath of satisfaction, -due to a sense of refreshment, and relief. Now and then they passed -a big empty place, with shuttered windows; now a prosperous-looking -farm, with ricks and slated out-buildings, and now a roadside mud -cabin. Finnigan's mare, dashing madly through poultry, pigs, goats, and -such sleeping creatures as might be imprudently taking forty winks, -in the middle of the little-used highway—which highway, with its - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 261]</span> - -overhanging ash-trees, tangled hedges, and wide grass borders, was the -prettiest and greenest that Larry's passenger had ever beheld—this -much she imparted to him, and he being ripe for conversation, -immediately launched forth with the following extraordinary -announcement:—</p> - -<p>"Och, but if ye had seen these roads before they were made! 'tis then -ye <em>might</em> be talkin'! There was no ways of getting about in ould -times—no play for a free-going one like this," nodding exultingly at -the chestnut, who was flying down hill at a pace that made the post-car -literally bound off the ground. "She's going illigant now—these -chestnuts does mostly be a bit 'hot'—but where would ye see a better -traveller on all the walls of the worruld?"</p> - -<p>"She is not quite trained, is she?"</p> - -<p>"Well, not to say all <em>out</em>," he admitted reluctantly; "she's had the -harness on her about a dozen times, and she never did no harm—beyond -the day she ran away at Dan Clancy's funeral, and broke up a couple of -cars; and 'twas Finnigan himself was in fault—he'd had a drop. Shure, -she's going now like a ladies' pony! Maybe you'd like to take the reins -in your hands yourself, miss, and just <em>feel</em> her mouth?"</p> - -<p>But Helen, casting her eyes over the long, raking animal in front of -her, and observing her starting eyes, quivering ears, and tightly -tucked-in tail, had no difficulty in resisting Larry's alluring offer. -Little did she know the vast honour she was rejecting. Larry (like -most Irishmen) was not insensible to a pretty face, and rating this -young lady's courage beyond its deserts—owing to her equanimity during -their recent gallop, and the tenacity of her hold upon the jaunting -car—paid her the greatest compliment in his power, when he offered -her the office of Jehu. Helen having politely but firmly, declined -the reins, breathed an inward wish that the animal who had behaved -so mischievously at Dan Clancy's funeral, would continue her present -sober frame of mind until she was deposited at the gates of Crowmore. -And now Larry began to play the cicerone, and commenced to point out -various objects of interest, with the end of his whip, and the zest of -a native.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 262]</span></p> - -<p>"That's Nancy's Cover," he said, indicating a patch of gorse. -"There does be a brace of foxes in it every season—that ditch -beyond,—running along in company with the cover, as far as your eye -will carry you,—goes by the name of 'Gilbert's Gripe,' because it -was there—a nephew of Mr. Redmond's I think he was, in the horse -soldiers—pounded every other mother's son in the field! Be jabers, I -never saw such a lep! and the harse—the very same breed of this mare -here—he never laid an iron to it! That's Mr. Redmond's place, in the -trees beyond, and beyant again is the Castle. What relation did ye say -ye wor to Mr. Sheridan?"</p> - -<p>Helen was not aware that she had mentioned Mr. Sheridan at all, but she -replied,—</p> - -<p>"His niece—his wife's niece."</p> - -<p>"You never saw him, I'll go bail?"</p> - -<p>"No, never; but why do you think so?"</p> - -<p>"Troth, and 'tis easy known, if you <em>had</em>, you would not be wanting to -see him twice."</p> - -<p>Larry grinned from ear to ear, but Helen's heart sank like lead, at -this depressing piece of intelligence.</p> - -<p>"He is greatly failed since he buried the mistress," continued Mr. -Flood. "He is a poor innocent creature now, and harmless; he does be -always inventing weathercocks, and kites, and such-like trash, when he -ought to be looking after the place. Miss Dido does that; oh, she's a -clever wan. Just a raal trate of a young lady!"</p> - -<p>"Do you mean that she manages the farm?"</p> - -<p>"Troth, and who else? 'tisen't the poor simple ould gentleman—the Lord -spare him what senses he <em>has</em>—for he would make a very ugly madman! -Miss Dido minds the books, and the business, and the garden, and the -money—not that there's much of that to trouble her—and Darby Chute, a -man that lives at the 'Cross,' buys and sells a few little bastes for -her, and sees to the turf-cutting and the grazing. The shootin's all -let—a power of the land too. What the ould man does with the rent of -it, bates all."</p> - -<p>"I suppose Darby Chute is a faithful old family servant?" said Helen, -her mind recurring to the ancient retainers of fiction.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 263]</span></p> - -<p>"Bedad, he is <em>ould</em> enough! but I would not answer for more than that; -he is Chute by name, and 'cute by nature, <em>I'm</em> thinking! Mr. Sheridan -has a warm side to him, and laves him great freedom.—The ould steward -that died a few years back, was a desperate loss. Now <em>he</em> was a really -valuable man; 'tis since then they have Darby, who was only a ploughman -before. I'm sorry for the two young ladies; they go about among the -people, so humble and so nice, as if they had not a shilling in the -world—and more betoken they haven't many.—I wish to the Lord they -were married! but they are out of the way of providence here,—there's -no quality at all, this side. They do say, young Barry Sheridan does be -entirely taken up with Miss Kate; but he's the only wan that's in it, -and no great shakes ayther; and in <em>my</em> opinion——"</p> - -<p>"Is there no one living over there?" interrupted his listener, averse -to such disclosures, and pointing to a long line of woods on the -horizon.</p> - -<p>"Shure, diden't I tell you that it was all Mr. Redmond's, of -Ballyredmond?—The old people does be there, and an English young lady -betimes, she is mighty plain about the head. I never heard them put -a name on her," then in quite an altered tone, he added, excitedly, -"By the powers of Moll Kelly, but I see the Corelish post-car, there -ahead of us in the straight bit of road. Do you notice him, miss? -the weenchie little speck. I do mostly race him to the Cross of Cara -Chapel, where our roads part, and I'm thinking I've the legs of him -this time! Altho' he has the old piebald, and a big start; we will just -slip down by the short cut through the bog, and nail him neatly at the -corner!"</p> - -<p>At first this announcement was Greek to his fare,—but she began to -comprehend what he meant, as he turned sharply into a bye-way, or -boreen, and started his only <em>too</em> willing steed at a brisk canter!</p> - -<p>"There's Cara Chapel," he said, indicating a slated building on the -edge of a vast expanse of bog. "You'll see how illegantly we will -disappoint him; he is on the upper road, and that puts a good mile on -him. It will be worth your while to watch his face, as we give him -the go-by, and finds we have bested him after all!!! Do you get the -smell of them hawthorns, miss? they are coming out beautiful," (as - -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</span> - -they careered along a narrow, grassy, boreen, between a forest of -may-bushes, white with flower.) "And now here's the bog," he added, -proudly, as the boreen suddenly turned into a cart track, running -like a causeway through a wide extent of peat and heath, that lay far -beneath on either side, without the smallest fence, or protection. -It was an exceedingly awkward, dangerous-looking place, and they -were entirely at the mercy of Finnigan's mare, who rattled joyously -along, pricking her dainty ears to and fro, as if she was on the <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">qui -vive</i> for the smallest excuse to shy, and bolt—and the pretext was -not wanting! An idle jackass, in the bog below, suddenly lifted up -his voice, and brayed a bray so startlingly near, and so piercingly -shrill, that even Helen was appalled; how much more the sensitive -creature between the shafts, who stopped for one second, thrust her -head well down between her fore-legs, wrenched the reins out of Larry's -hands,—and ran away!</p> - -<p>"Begorra, we are in for it now," he shouted. "Hould on by your -eyelashes, miss; we will just slip off quietly at the first corner. -Kape yourself calm! Bad scram to you for a red-haired divil" (to the -mare). "Bad luck to them for rotten ould reins," reins now represented -by two strips of leather, trailing in the dust.</p> - -<p>"Oh! murder, we are done!" he cried, as he beheld a heavily laden -turf-cart, drawn up right across the track.</p> - -<p>"Oh, holy Mary! she'll put us in the bog."</p> - -<p>The owner of the turf-cart was toiling up the bank with a final -creel on his back, when he beheld the runaways racing down upon his -devoted horse and kish. His loud execrations were idle as the little -evening breeze that was playing with the tops of the rushes and the -gorse—Finnigan's mare was already into them! With a loud crash and a -sound of splintering shafts a thousand sods of turf were sent flying -in every direction. Helen was shot off the car and landed neatly and -safely in a heap of bog-mould that luckily received her at the side -of the road; Larry also made a swift involuntary descent, but in a -twinkling had sprung to his feet and seized his horse's head, calling -out to his companion as she picked herself up,—</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 265]</span></p> - -<p>"'Tis yourself that is the fine souple young lady, and not a hair the -worse; nayther is the mare, barrin' a couple of small cuts, and one of -the shafts is broke—faix, it <em>might</em> have been sarious!"</p> - -<p>"Arrah, what sort of a driver are ye, at all?" shouted the owner of the -turf-cart, breathless with rage, and haste. "Oh, 'tis Larry Flood—an' -I might have known!"</p> - -<p>"And what call have you to be taking up the whole road?" retorted Larry -loudly. "The divil sweep you and your old turf kish, that was nearly -being the death of us!"</p> - -<p>"Ah! and sure wasen't she running away as hard as she could lay leg to -groun'?"</p> - -<p>"Well, and if she <em>was</em>; diden't she see you below in the bog, and take -you for a scarecrow? and small blame. Here, don't be botherin' me, Tim -Mooney, but lend a hand to rig up the machine, and the tackling."</p> - -<p>Thanks to the turf-cutter's generous assistance, in a very short time -Mr. Larry Flood was enabled to come forward and announce to his fare, -who had dusted her dress from bog-mould and taken a seat on a piece of -wood, that "he was ready, if <em>she</em> was."</p> - -<p>The young lady accordingly rose, and followed him, and gravely -inspected the turn-out. The car was all down on one side still—the -result of a spring broken in the late collision—but the reins had been -knotted together, and the shaft was tied up with a piece of twine.</p> - -<p>"It will hould all right," said Larry, following her eyes. "Any way, it -will carry <em>your</em> distance, I'll go bail."</p> - -<p>"Thank you; but I'm not going to try the experiment. I'm stiff enough -as it is; and one fall in the day is ample for the present."</p> - -<p>"Fall! What fall? Sure ye only jumped off the car. Diden't I see you -with me own two eyes? And 'tis yourself that has them nice and tight -under yow! and in elegant proportion!—Meaning your ankles, Miss,—and -no offence."</p> - -<p>"All the same I shall walk, fall or no fall," returned his late -passenger, with a scarlet face.</p> - -<p>"You are a good mile off it yet," expostulated Larry. "How will you get -there?"</p> - -<p>"On foot."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 266]</span></p> - -<p>"And your bag; is that going on foot as well?"</p> - -<p>"Perhaps you would leave it as you pass?"</p> - -<p>"Indeed, and I will! Of course you are only English, and what could ye -<em>expect</em>; but at the first go off you were as stout as any lady that -ever sat on a car."</p> - -<p>"Stout?" she echoed in supreme amazement. But perhaps in Ireland things -had different names.</p> - -<p>"I mane stout-hearted! and now, after all, you are going to walk. To -<em>walk</em>!" he reiterated with indescribable scorn.</p> - -<p>"Yes, and you will take the bag—<em>it</em> has no neck to break."</p> - -<p>"To be sure, I'll lave it with pleasure; but——" and here he paused -rather significantly.</p> - -<p>"Of course I'll pay you," she said, fumbling for her purse. "How much?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, well, sure—nothing at all! I would not be charging the likes of -you. 'Twas an honour to drive such a beautiful young lady."</p> - -<p>"How much?" she repeated, with a little stamp of her foot.</p> - -<p>"Well, thin, miss, since you are so <em>detarmined</em>, we won't quarrel over -two half-crowns; and if you would like me to drink your health in the -<em>best</em> that was going," rubbing his mouth expressively with the back of -his hand, "we will say six shillings."</p> - -<p>Helen immediately placed six shillings in his greedy palm.</p> - -<p>"Thank you kindly, my lady! and may you live seven years longer than -was intended for you. It's not <em>my</em> fault that I did not lave you at -your journey's end, as Tim Moony will allow. There's the mare," waving -his hand towards the wicked-looking chestnut; "there's the machine," -indicating the battered car and twine-tied shaft; "and they are both -altogether and entirely at your service."</p> - -<p>Helen shook her head resolutely, and made no other reply.</p> - -<p>"Well, then, miss, as I see I can't <em>tempt</em> ye, I suppose I may as well -be going; and I'll lave the bag inside the lodge. Keep on straight -after the Cross till you come to a pair of big gates—and there you -are."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 267]</span></p> - -<p>Having given these directions and ascended to the driving-seat, so as -to have what he called "a better purchase on the baste," Larry muttered -a parting benediction, lifted his caubeen, and drove furiously away.</p> - - -<hr class="r15" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXXI">CHAPTER XXXI.<br /><br /> -<span class="small">"CROWMORE CASTLE."</span></h2> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container41"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="blockquot"> -<div class="verse">"We have seen better days."</div> - </div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Larry</span> and Finnigan's mare were not long in dwindling into a little -speck in the distance; and when they had completely vanished Helen -set out to walk to Cara Cross, the goal of the post-car races. Once -there she had no difficulty in discovering the road to the left; -and a quarter of a mile brought two massive pillars into view, -each surmounted by a battered, wingless griffin. But there were no -gates—unless a stone wall and a gate were synonymous terms in Ireland. -Three feet of solid masonry completely barred the former entrance, and -said "no admittance" in the plainest language. Helen leant her elbows -on the coping-stones and gazed in amazement at the scene before her. -She saw a grassy track that had once been an avenue lined by a dense -thicket of straggling, neglected shrubs. To her right and left stood -the roofless shells of two gate lodges. On the step of one of them she -descried her bag; and only for this undeniable clue she would certainly -have walked on and sought the entrance to Crowmore elsewhere. Being (as -Larry had not failed to remark) an active, "souple" young lady, she -lost no time in getting over the wall and rejoining her property. As -she picked it up, she cast a somewhat timid glance into the interior -of the ruin and beheld a most dismal, melancholy-looking kitchen, with -the remains of ashes on the hearth; the roof and rugged rafters partly -open to the skies; hideous green stains disfiguring the walls, and the -floor carpeted with nettles and dockleaves. A bat came flickering out -of an inner chamber, which warned her that time was advancing and she -was <em>not</em>. So she hurriedly turned about and pursued the grass-grown - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 268]</span> - -avenue, which presently became almost lost in the wide, surrounding -pasture. At first it ascended a gentle incline, over which numbers of -sheep were scattered; some, who were reposing in her very track, rose -reluctantly, and stared stolidly as she approached. On the top of the -hill she came upon a full view of the Castle, and was filled with a -sense of injury and disappointment at having been deceived by such a -high-sounding title. Certainly there <em>was</em> a kind of square, old keep, -out of whose ivy-covered walls half-a-dozen large modern windows stared -with unabashed effrontery. But a great, vulgar, yellow house, with long -ears of chimneys, and a mean little porch, had evidently married the -venerable pile, and impudently appropriated its name. "Yes," murmured -Helen to herself, as she descended the hill, "uncle showed his sense -in calling it simply 'Crowmore;' a far more suitable name, judging by -the rookeries in the trees behind it and the flocks of crows—more -crows—who are returning home."</p> - -<p>An iron fence presently barred her further progress along the -almost obliterated avenue, and, keeping by the railings, she -arrived at a rusty gate leading into what might once have been a -pleasure-ground,—but was now a wilderness. Traces of walks were still -visible, and outlines of flower-beds could be distinguished—with a -little assistance from one's imagination—flower-beds, in which roses, -and fuchsias, and thistles, and ferns, were all alike strangled in -the cruel bonds of "Robin round the hedge." She passed a tumble-down -summer-house—a fitting pendant to the gate lodges—and some rustic -seats, literally on their last legs. Everywhere she looked, neglect and -decay stared her in the face.</p> - -<p>As she pushed her way through a thicket of shrubs, that nearly choked -a narrow foot-path, she observed a tall man, like a gamekeeper, -approaching from the opposite direction. He wore a peaked cap, drawn -far over his eyes, and a very long black beard, so that his face was -almost entirely concealed; he was dressed in a shabby shooting-coat, -and gaiters, and carried a bundle of netting on his back, and a stick -in his hand. As he stood aside, so as to permit her to pass, she had a - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 269]</span> - -conviction—though she could not see his eyes—that he was scrutinizing -her closely; nay, more, that he halted to look after her,—as she -ceased to hear the onward tramp of his heavy, clumsy boots. Another two -minutes brought her to a little wicket, which opened on a well-kept -gravel drive, a complete contrast to the overgrown jungle which she -had just quitted. There was no one to be seen, not even a dog, though -a clean plate and a well-picked bone testified to a dog's recent -dinner. The hall door stood wide open (Irish fashion), but no knocker -was visible,—neither could she discover a bell. She waited on the -steps for some minutes in great perplexity, and gazed into a large, -cool, stone-paved hall, crossed here and there with paths of cocoa-nut -matting, lined with strange ancient sporting prints, and apparently -opening into half-a-dozen rooms. Not a sound was audible save the -bleating of the sheep, the cawing of the rooks, and the loud ticking -of a brazen-faced grandfather's clock, that immediately faced the -stranger. Suddenly a fresh young voice came through an open door, so -near that Helen gave a little nervous start; a fresh young voice with -an undeniable Irish accent, and this was what it said,—</p> - -<p>"Dido, Dido! do you want to <em>boil</em> the mignonette, and all the -unfortunate flowers?"</p> - -<p>Emboldened by this sound, the new arrival rapped loudly on the door -with her knuckles, and the same melodious brogue called out,—</p> - -<p>"If that's you, Judy, no eggs to-day!"</p> - -<p>"'Deed then, Miss Katie," expostulated a somewhat aged and cracked -organ, "I'm not so sure of <em>that</em>.—We are rather tight in eggs, and -you were talking of a cake, when the young lady comes——"</p> - -<p>By this time the young lady had advanced to the threshold and looked -in. She beheld a large, shabby dining-room, with three long windows, -heavy old furniture, and faded hangings; a stout girl with fair curly -hair, sitting with her back to the door, knitting a sock; her slender -sister—presumably that Dido, who was working such destruction among -the flowers—was stooping over a green stand covered with plants, which -she was busily watering, with the contents of a small copper tea-urn; - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 270]</span> - -and a little trim old woman, in a large frilled cap, was in the act -of removing the tea things. Helen's light footfall on the matting was -inaudible, and she had ample time to contemplate the scene, ere the -servant, who was just lifting the tray, laid it down and ejaculated,—</p> - -<p>"The Lord presarve us!"</p> - -<p>The girl with the tea-urn turned quickly round, and dropping her -impromptu watering-pot, cried,—</p> - -<p>"It's Helen, it must be cousin Helen!" running to her, and embracing -her. "You are as welcome as the flowers in May. This is Katie,—I'm -Dido.—We went to meet you in the morning by the twelve o'clock train; -how in the world did you get here?"</p> - -<p>All this poured out without stop, or comma, in a rich and rapid brogue.</p> - -<p>"I missed the early train and came on by the next. I got a seat on the -post-car, but the horse ran away and upset us, so I preferred to walk -to the end of my journey. I told the man, Larry ——, Larry ——"</p> - -<p>"Larry Flood, Miss," prompted the old woman eagerly. "A little ugly -sleveen of a fellow—with a lip on him, would trip a goat!"</p> - -<p>"Now, Biddy, how can you be so spiteful," remonstrated Katie, with a -laugh, "and all just because he wants to marry Sally."</p> - -<p>"That's the name—Larry Flood," continued Helen. "I told him I would -walk, and he left my bag at the—the gate."</p> - -<p>"Oh! so you came by the old avenue! and a nice way Larry treated you! -Just wait till I see him," said Dido. "How long were you at the door, -Helen?"</p> - -<p>"About five minutes."</p> - -<p>"And why on earth did you not come in?"</p> - -<p>"I was looking for the bell or the knocker," she answered rather -diffidently.</p> - -<p>"And you might have been looking for a week, my dear! They are -conspicuous by their absence. We don't stand on ceremony here; you -either hammer with a stone—there is one left on the steps for that -express purpose, only, of course, <em>you</em> never guessed its use—or you -dispense with the stone, and walk in—the door stands open all day - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 271]</span> - -long,—precisely as you see it."</p> - -<p>"But, of course, you shut it after dark?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, in a fashion; we put a chair against it just to keep the sheep -from coming in! The lock is broken—it was taken off weeks ago by Micky -the smith, and he has never brought it back yet. Now, I see you are -horrified, Helen!—but this is not London—there are no thieves or -housebreakers about, and we are as safe as if we had twenty locks and -bolts. Here, Biddy," to the old servant, "Miss Denis is starving; bring -up the cold fowl, and some more of those hot cakes, as fast as ever you -can. Helen, give me your hat and jacket, and sit down in this arm-chair -this minute, and relate every one of your adventures without delay."</p> - -<p>It was impossible to be shy with Dido and Katie; in a few moments their -cousin felt perfectly at home, and they were all holding animated -eager conversation, and talking together as if they had known each -other for weeks. Katie was an incessant chatter-box; no matter who was -speaking, her voice was sure to chime in also, and to keep up a running -accompaniment similar to the variations on a popular air! She was fair, -very plump, and rather pretty,—with the beauty of rosy cheeks, bright -eyes, and curly locks. Dido, the eldest, was tall, and graceful, with -a head and throat that would have served for a sculptor's model; she -had quantities of brown hair, and greenish-grey eyes. Without being -exactly handsome, she had a look of remarkable distinction, and as she -stood at the table busily carving a fowl for the delectation of her -hungry guest, that guest said to herself, that her cousin Dido, for all -her threadbare dress and washed-out red cotton pinafore, aye, and her -brogue,—had the air—of—yes—of a princess!</p> - -<p>"When shall I see uncle?" inquired his niece, with dutiful politeness.</p> - -<p>"Oh, the Padré never appears in the daytime," replied Katie, "and he -only goes out with the owls; but he will come down and welcome you, of -course. He is very much occupied just now,—and grudges every moment, -his time is <em>so</em> precious."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 272]</span></p> - -<p>A grunt of scornful dissent from the old woman here attracted Katie's -notice, and once more resuming her knitting, and her chair, she said,—</p> - -<p>"Well, what's the matter now, Biddy, eh? Tell me, what do you think of -Miss Denis?" speaking precisely as if Miss Denis were a hundred miles -away.</p> - -<p>Biddy thus adjured, immediately laid down a plate, and resting her -hands on her hips, surveyed the new-comer as coolly and deliberately as -if she was a picture.</p> - -<p>"Shure, I'm no great judge, Miss Katie! but since you ax me,—I'll just -give ye me mind. I think she's a teetotally beautiful young lady,—and -that it would be no harm if there was twins of her!"</p> - -<p>Helen coloured and laughed, and Dido exclaimed, "Well, that's more than -you ever said of <em>me</em>, Biddy, and I'm your own nurse-child that you -reared ever since I was six months old—you never wished for twins of -<em>me</em>!"</p> - -<p>"Troth, and why would I? Many and many's the night that I lost me rest -along of you. Aye, but you wor the peevish little scaltheen! Wan of -<em>you</em> was plenty!"</p> - -<p>"And you never called <em>me</em> a teetotally beautiful young lady! I'm -offended."</p> - -<p>"Arrah, Miss Dido, sure you would not be askin' me to parjure myself!" -retorted Biddy, with some warmth. "Ye can see with your own two eyes, -that your cousin is a sight better-looking than ayther of yees; but you -are a lady all out! The Queen herself need not be ashamed to be seen -walkin' with ye! Sure, and aren't you cliver! and isn't that enough for -you? They don't go together, I'm thinking—great wit, and great looks!"</p> - -<p>"Biddy MacGravy," replied Dido, with great solemnity, "you started off -very nicely,—wishing Miss Helen was a twin—but now you have spoiled -everything! I really think you had better go before you say something -worse,—I really do."</p> - -<p>"And sure, and what did I say but what was the pure truth?" folding -her arms over her white apron, and evidently preparing to discuss the -subject exhaustively.</p> - -<p>"You have merely told her, that it was doubtful if she was a lady, and -that it was very certain that she was a fool."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 273]</span></p> - -<p>"Ah, now, Miss Dido!" in a tone of mournful reproach, "see, now, I -declare to goodness—Whist! here's the masther." And seizing the tray, -the nimble old woman vanished like a flash.</p> - -<p>"She is quite one of the family," explained Dido, "and says just what -she pleases. You would never imagine that she had been for years on the -Continent! She acquired nothing there, but the art of making cakes and -coffee——"</p> - -<p>"And paying compliments," amended Katie, with a giggle.</p> - -<p>At that moment the door opened slowly, and a tall, but bent, -white-headed gentleman entered the room. He had a noble head, a -cream-coloured beard, reaching almost to his waist, and sunken, -dark eyes, that looked out on the world abstractedly, from beneath -a penthouse of shaggy brows. His hands were long and thin, with -singularly claw-like fingers, through which he had a habit of drawing -the end of his beard, as he conversed. He was attired in an easy, grey -dressing-gown, a black skull-cap, and red list slippers.</p> - -<p>Helen rose as he approached and extended one of his long hands. His -dreamy eyes flashed into momentary life, as he said, in a curiously -slow, nasal voice,—</p> - -<p>"And this is my English niece! Niece, I am glad to see you, for your -own sake,—and for your father's.—He was a worthy brother to my wife. -I hope you will be happy here. By-the-way, how did you come?"</p> - -<p>Before Helen could open her lips, Katie, the irrepressible, had begun -to relate her recent experiences, as volubly as if she herself had been -a passenger by the Irish mail; not to mention the Terryscreen post-car!</p> - -<p>But long ere her recital had come to an end, her parent's thoughts were -miles away—presumably in the clouds. At length the sudden cessation of -the narrative, recalled him to the present once more, and speaking very -deliberately, he said,—</p> - -<p>"You must take us as you find us, niece. We live far beyond any sordid, -worldly circle, enjoying simple, domestic retirement, and a purely -rural life. Our wealth is that of the mind. In mundane substance we -are poor, but at any rate we can offer you <em>one</em> thing, without - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 274]</span> - -stint—accept a welcome." And with a wave of his hand, implying that he -had endowed Helen with some priceless treasure, and a bow signifying -that the interview was at an end, Mr. Sheridan glided noiselessly away, -leaving, as was his invariable wont, the door wide open behind him.</p> - - -<hr class="r15" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXXII">CHAPTER XXXII.<br /><br /> -<span class="small">BARRY'S GUESS.</span></h2> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container40"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="blockquot"> -<div class="verse first-line">"O many a shaft at random sent,</div> -<div class="verse">Finds mark the archer little meant."—<cite>Scott.</cite></div> - </div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> following morning Helen was formally conducted round the premises -by her cousins. They explored the tangled shrubbery, the garden, and -the yard; the latter was empty—save for a clutch of chickens, and a -flock of voracious ducks,—and at least half the offices were minus -roofs and windows.</p> - -<p>"The whole place was tumbling down," explained Dido; "and as the Padré -could do nothing, Darby Chute said he might just as well make the best -of a bad job, and he took off the doors and rafters for fire-wood."</p> - -<p>"Yes, and Barry was <em>raging</em>," supplemented Katie. "Barry is papa's -heir.—He is our cousin, and lives a mile away on the Terryscreen road. -He says there won't be a stick or a stone left together before long. He -often comes over here. He declares the place is going to rack and ruin."</p> - -<p>Helen glanced at the range of yawning, roofless stables, and could -not help sharing in Mr. Barry's rueful anticipations; and Katie, -interpreting her glance, added hastily,—</p> - -<p>"But papa will restore it all some day. He always says his brain is his -Golconda, and he will be a Crœsus yet. He says——"</p> - -<p>"This is the dairy," interrupted Dido, suddenly turning a big key. -"Mind the step."</p> - -<p>It struck Helen that she frequently broke in upon the current of her -sister's narratives, especially when she was attempting to give - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 275]</span> - -detailed descriptions of the sayings and doings of their gifted parent.</p> - -<p>"This is the dairy," she repeated, ushering them into a white-washed, -red-tiled room, filled with big, brown pans of wrinkled cream, tubs of -milk, and golden pats of butter.</p> - -<p>"We have five fine cows," she said, twirling the key round her thumb. -"We sell the milk about the place, and the butter in Terryscreen -market; Sally MacGravy takes it in every Thursday. She is cook, -laundress, and dairy-maid. The 'Master' churns. By-the-way, I wonder -where he is?"</p> - -<p>"Where he ought not to be, you may be perfectly certain," responded -Katie. "Yes, I see him, he is over in the turf-house." And sure enough, -just above the half-door of a great shed, the ill-tempered face of an -old brown mule was visible.</p> - -<p>"And that's the 'Master,'" exclaimed Helen, rather relieved in her own -mind; for visions of her eccentric uncle wielding the churn-dash had -somewhat disturbed her.</p> - -<p>"Yes," said Dido. "We call him the 'Master' because the name suits him -so beautifully. He goes and comes exactly as he pleases, opens doors -and gates, and walks in and out at pleasure. He was here when we came, -eight years ago, and is consequently the oldest inhabitant. Some people -say he is forty years of age; but at any rate he is older than any of -us! Now let us go to the garden."</p> - -<p>The garden was of vast extent, surrounded by high grey walls, and -wholly devoted to fruit and vegetables. Grass pathways, lined with -currant and gooseberry bushes, divided it into immense plots of -potatoes, peas, and cabbages. In some places, so dense was the jungle -of unwieldy bushes that these walks were quite impassable.</p> - -<p>"What quantities of fruit you will have!" remarked Helen, to whom this -huge garden was a novel sight.</p> - -<p>"Yes, there will be a fine crop of strawberries—at least I hope so, -for nothing pays so well," rejoined the distinguished-looking, but -practical Dido. "We make a good deal out of the fruit; and we work hard -ourselves; not in fancy aprons and with little trowels, but in real -sober earnest; we plant, and prune, and weed, and water; and on the -whole the garden is a financial success. And 'All Right' helps us. - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 276]</span> - -That's him there in the next plot—the man without the hat. He minds -the cows, and goes to the post, and makes himself useful. He is called -'All Right' just because he is <em>not</em> quite all there! Here he is now," -as an individual with a spade over his shoulder, and minus hat and -boots, came shuffling down a neighbouring walk.</p> - -<p>Andy was a middle-aged man, who looked quite juvenile; partly on -account of his very light and abundant hair, and almost white eyebrows, -and partly because of a certain childish expression,—relieved by -occasional flashes of very mature cunning.</p> - -<p>"Well, Andy," said Dido pleasantly, "you have a fine day for the young -plants; how are you getting on?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, finely, Miss, finely."</p> - -<p>"Here is our cousin.—Another young lady to help you in the garden, you -see."</p> - -<p>Andy, in answer to this introduction, half closed his eyes and scanned -her critically. After a long pause he scornfully replied,—</p> - -<p>"Faix I expect she'll only be good for weeding, Miss Dido! And see -here, Miss Dido, not to be losing all our day.—Will ye just tell me -what's to be done with them ash-leaved praties and the skerry-blues? -for sorra a know I know!"</p> - -<p>"I'll go this very instant, Andy. Katie, just show Helen round the -garden; but keep clear of the bees whatever you do."</p> - -<p>"I'll tell you all about Andy now," said Katie confidentially, taking -her companion's arm as they walked away. "You see what he is like! He -was never very strong in the head at the best of times; but a mistake -that happened a good many years ago, quite settled him.—A mistake -about a murder."</p> - -<p>"A murder!" echoed Helen, looking with startled eyes at the slouching -figure that was carrying off her graceful cousin.</p> - -<p>"Yes. You must know," continued Katie, now dropping into a tone of glib -narration, "that Crowmore belonged to papa's uncle, an old miser, who -lived in Dublin and let the house, and garden, and a few acres, to a -man of the name of Dillon. The rest of the land was managed by the old - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 277]</span> - -steward, who was a first-rate farmer, and as honest as the sun. But to -return to Dillon. He had a good-for-nothing son, called John, who never -did anything but loaf and poach. In those days Andy was a handy-man, -or boy, about the yard, and he and this John were always quarrelling. -One day John beat him cruelly, and Andy was heard to declare that -he would certainly have his life! Anyway, a short time afterwards, -Dillon was found shot dead up at the black gate, between this and -Ballyredmond, and Andy was taken up and lodged in jail. However, he was -soon discharged, as it was proved at the inquest that Dillon's gun must -have gone off accidentally, though some people say it did <em>not</em> to this -day.—But some people will say anything.—At any rate, the whole affair -gave Andy such a terrible fright, that he has never been the same -since."</p> - -<p>"And how is he affected?"</p> - -<p>"Chiefly by the sight of a policeman—a 'peeler,' as he calls him. At -the first glimpse, he takes to his heels and runs for his life. He -never ventures beyond the cross-roads, and would not go within a mile -of the black gate, by day or night, for millions; indeed, <em>no</em> one goes -round that way after sundown," she added impressively.</p> - -<p>"And pray why not?"</p> - -<p>"Because they say John Dillon walks."</p> - -<p>"Walks?" echoed Helen, with a look of puzzled curiosity.</p> - -<p>"<em>Haunts</em> it, then. Dozens have seen him leaning over the gate, just -about dusk, and it is quite certain that he shoots the coverts as -regularly as ever he did; I've often heard the shots myself."</p> - -<p>"Poachers, my dear simple little Katie."</p> - -<p>"Poachers, <em>real</em> poachers, would not venture on the Crowmore or -Ballyredmond estates for all the game in Ireland! I'll tell you -something more extraordinary. Dillon had a brace of splendid red -setters. I remember them when we first came, very old, and nearly -blind. They say for a fact, that when these dogs would be lying by the -kitchen fire at night, they would suddenly hear Dillon's whistle, and - -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</span> - -jump up and rush to the door, and whine and scratch until they were let -out; and then they would be away for hours, and come home all muddy, -and tired, and draggled, as if they had been working hard. Several -people have told me they have seen this themselves."</p> - -<p>"No doubt they have. Some one imitated John's whistle; I could do it -myself, if I heard it once. Some clever poacher was sharp enough to -make use of the late Mr. Dillon's excellent sporting dogs."</p> - -<p>"I never thought of that," said Katie reflectively. "But every one here -believes in Dillon's ghost. Darby Chute would not go up the woods after -dark for all you could offer him; <em>he</em> believes in him, so does Barry. -Barry met him once in the dusk; he was carrying game, and he looked so -desperately wicked, and shook his gun in such a threatening way, that -Barry confesses that he turned, as he expresses it, and 'ran like a -hare.'"</p> - -<p>"And what is this sporting ghost like?"</p> - -<p>"He is very tall, with a long black beard, leather gaiters, and a -peaked cap pulled over his eyes."</p> - -<p>"My dear Katie, he was the first person to welcome me yesterday! We met -each other in the shrubbery, face to face."</p> - -<p>"Oh, Helen, <em>no</em>!" gasped her cousin, suddenly stopping and releasing -her arm. "Were you not frightened to death?"</p> - -<p>"Not I! I felt no qualms, no cold thrills; I received no hint that I -was in the presence of the supernatural.—He looked alive, and in the -best of health."</p> - -<p>"But he was <em>not</em>," rejoined Katie in a quavering voice; "that was just -John, the terror of the whole country. Oh, Helen, dear, I hope he has -not come to you as a <em>warning</em>," her voice now sinking to an awe-struck -whisper.</p> - -<p>"A fiddlestick! it was undoubtedly a human being going out to snare -rabbits. There are no such things as ghosts; at any rate, if this was -one, he smelt very strongly of bad tobacco! Come now, to change the -subject, do tell me something more about your bold cousin Barry,—who -runs like a hare?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, Helen! please, now really, you must not laugh at Barry. He can't - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 279]</span> - -bear being chaffed," remonstrated Katie, in some dismay. "He is as -brave as any one in reality."</p> - -<p>"Oh, indeed! and what are his other virtues?"</p> - -<p>"Perhaps you may think him coarse and countrified, and too fond of -contradicting every word you say, and laying down the law; but he is a -very good fellow in the main, if you take him the right way."</p> - -<p>"And what is the right way? Please instruct me, in order that <em>I</em> may -find him a very good fellow!"</p> - -<p>"Well; pretend that you think he is conferring a great, great favour, -and he will do anything for you. He can stand any amount of blarney, -but no contradiction!"</p> - -<p>"Strictly between ourselves, my little Katie, I don't think I shall -like this cousin of yours."</p> - -<p>"Exactly what he said of <em>you</em>," she exclaimed, clapping her hands in -great glee. "He declared you would be a stuck-up English girl, with a -grand accent, and a great opinion of yourself. He said you were sure -to have had your head turned by all the attention you had received in -those islands."</p> - -<p>"Well, if it was,—which I do not admit,—it has had ample time to go -back again. Governesses are not often the spoiled darlings of society."</p> - -<p>"But you are not a bit like a governess."</p> - -<p>"Am I not? You should see me at Mrs. Kane's."</p> - -<p>"Barry wondered very much that you came home unmarried," continued -Katie, who knew not the meaning of the words reticence and discretion, -and delighted in the sound of her own voice. "He said it was either of -two things——" pausing meditatively.</p> - -<p>"Did he, really! How kind of him to give his mind to my humble -affairs," exclaimed Helen, with an irony entirely lost upon her cousin, -who was now fighting her way through a small forest of currant bushes, -and discoursing as fluently as if she was sitting in an arm-chair.</p> - -<p>"Yes; he said it was either of two things—Helen, mind your eyes with -that branch! Either—I'll give you his own words—either you were -mortal ugly, or you had had a love affair, and the pigs ran through -it—meaning a disappointment, you know."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 280]</span></p> - -<p>Helen winced as though she had been struck, and if her companion had -happened to glance round, she would have been astonished at the colour -of her face;—a sudden deep blush suffused it from chin to brow. She -told herself passionately that dislike was far too weak a term to apply -to this country clown, whose clumsy curiosity had probed her secret to -the very core. This to herself; but aloud she merely said,—</p> - -<p>"Your cousin Barry must be blessed with a rich imagination?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, no! he is not a bit clever; but he is uncommonly sharp. He rather -prides himself——"</p> - -<p>Whatever he prided himself upon was not to be disclosed at present, for -a sudden turn brought them close to Dido, who called out,—</p> - -<p>"I thought I saw your heads above that thicket! I have to go to the -Cross, to speak to Darby: would you care to come, Helen? You may as -well learn all the geography of the place at once."</p> - -<p>To this suggestion she promptly assented, and in a few minutes was -walking down the neatly-kept front avenue, whose gates opened on the -Cross (or cross-road); the middle of which amply testified to the -indefatigable dancing that took place on Sundays (for "Crowmore Cross" -was what the assembly-rooms would be in some populous, fashionable -neighbourhood). A dozen cottages were scattered about, and the windows -of one of them exhibited two long clay pipes, some red and white candy, -and a ball of worsted, and on the strength of this rich display was -called "the shop." Dido halted at the door of a comfortable slated -house, and called out over the half-door,—</p> - -<p>"Is Darby within, Mrs. Chute?"</p> - -<p>"No, me lady, he is not," replied a little, withered old woman, -dropping a curtsey; then, as her eye fell upon Katie and Helen, she -said, "An' this is your cousin from England? The Lord spare you your -health, Miss."</p> - -<p>"And how are you yourself, Mrs. Chute?" inquired Dido sympathetically.</p> - -<p>"Oh, I got a very heavy turn that last time, me lady; but that stuff - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 281]</span> - -you sent me and the jam did me a power of good. I'm finely now."</p> - -<p>"Well, I'm very glad to hear it. Tell Darby I want to see him this -evening, please—it's about the pigs; you won't forget?" said Dido, -turning her face homewards as she spoke.</p> - -<p>"Isn't it a funny thing, that of all the years we have been here we -have never been inside Chute's house!" exclaimed Katie. "Mrs. Chute -comes and stands at the door, but she never asks us further. This in -Ireland, where the first word is, 'Won't you walk in and take a sate?' -is <em>odd</em>."</p> - -<p>"Is that his wife?" inquired Helen.</p> - -<p>"Oh, no; his mother. He was nearly being married once to the daughter -of a well-to-do farmer, but they fell out about her dowry. They -'split,' as they call it, over a chest of drawers. I don't think he -will ever marry now. Somehow the neighbours don't like him; they say he -is very distant and dark in himself."</p> - -<p>"I heard you were wanting me, Miss Dido," said a squeaky voice, which -made them all turn round with quite a guilty start.</p> - -<p>Standing on the grass behind them (why could he not walk on the road?) -Helen beheld a tall, elderly man, with sharp features and a pair of -keen, grey eyes, set close together in his head. He had a coat over his -shoulder, a stick in his hand, and a most deceitful-looking lurcher at -his heels.</p> - -<p>"Yes, Darby, I left a message," replied Dido, quickly recovering -herself. "It's only to ask you about selling the store pigs."</p> - -<p>"Av they are fit,—and with all the feeding they are getting they bid -to be as fat as snails—ye might sell them on the fifteenth; but mind -you," shaking his head solemnly, "pigs is down—terribly down! And so -this is your cousin, Miss Denis?" putting his finger to his hat.</p> - -<p>"Yes; and you would never know she was any relation, would you?" said -Katie. "Would you guess we were cousins?"</p> - -<p>"'Deed I would <em>not</em>. And I never thought them English ladies were so -handsome till now," he rejoined, resting his hands on the top of his - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 282]</span> - -stick, and speaking in a deliberate, confidential squeak. "I declare -that wan up at Ballyredmond has a face that sour on her, she gives me -the cramps every time I look at her; an' her walk!" raising his stick -and his eyes simultaneously, "for all the world like a turkey among -stubbles. Now, av I was asked——"</p> - -<p>"Darby, what <em>do</em> you think? Only fancy! she met John Dillon face to -face last evening!" interrupted Katie with extraordinary irrelevance.</p> - -<p>A very curious look flashed into Darby's eyes. It came and went in the -space of half a second, and he rejoined, in a peevish, argumentative -tone,—</p> - -<p>"And sure, and how would Miss Denis know him?"</p> - -<p>"She describes him exactly; cap and all."</p> - -<p>"Yes, but all the same, I'm positive that it was no <em>ghost</em>," -supplemented Helen stoutly.</p> - -<p>"Holy St. Patrick, do ye hear her!" ejaculated Darby, in a tone of -pious horror. "Well, well, well; poor young lady; it's easy seen she is -a stranger! Don't ye be for letting her out about the place alone after -dark just now," he added in a sort of husky aside.</p> - -<p>"It's rather early for him <em>yet</em>," grumbled Katie. "From August to -February is his usual time."</p> - -<p>"Yes, the shooting season!" rejoined Helen, with a merry laugh. -"Nothing more is needed to persuade <em>me</em> that the notorious John is -anything worse than a common poacher!"</p> - -<p>"Have your own way,—have your own way, Miss," wheezed Darby, -irritably. And it struck her that there was the <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">soupçon</i> of a threat -in his narrow little eyes as he added,—</p> - -<p>"Maybe you won't get off so <em>aisy</em> next time he meets you! If ye will -be said and led by me, ye will not be going about alone afther dusk. -And mind, if anything happens, and ye are found with the print of five -black fingers on your neck"—spreading out his own horny digits by way -of illustration—"and stretched as dead as a doornail, don't go and say -afterwards that ye waren't warned."</p> - -<p>With this remarkable caution, Darby hitched his coat over his shoulder, -nodded his head impressively, and then turning to Dido, said,—</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 283]</span></p> - -<p>"I'll be up about them pigs this evening, Miss; but you need not be -laying out to get a heavy price for them! I'm for my dinner now," and -with an abrupt nod, Mr. Chute plodded off.</p> - -<p>"I'm sure you are shocked at his free-and-easy ways, Helen—at -all their free-and-easy ways!" exclaimed Dido. "But they mean no -incivility, and they take an interest in the——"</p> - -<p>"Yes, Darby, I can see, is very anxious that I should not put myself -in the way of being strangled by John Dillon. Really, it will be quite -exciting to go out after dark."</p> - -<p>"And the <em>only</em> excitement we can offer you. You have no idea what a -quiet place you have come to," said Katie; "we have no society at all. -Papa never returned people's visits, or answered their invitations. He -never goes out, excepting about the place, in the dusk; he is entirely -buried in his experiments. People have all sorts of ideas about us; -they think that the Padré practises the black art, and that Dido and I -keep pigs in the parlour, and a threshing-machine in the back hall!"</p> - -<p>Helen laughed aloud at this description. If Crowmore was shabby, it was -beautifully clean; and if her cousins occasionally used the first thing -to hand instead of a regulation implement, the interior of the house -was not merely neat, but tasteful.</p> - -<p>"Of course, that's an exaggeration," said Dido. "But no one calls -here, excepting the rector, Barry, and old Mr. Redmond. He comes -from mere idle curiosity, to see if we are all alive and the house -not burnt down—he <em>said</em> so! He and papa fought frantically about a -Greek word the only time they ever met. We tried to cut him, he was -so awfully rude to the Padré; but he would not see it, and he comes -here, and sends us books, and baskets of hot-house fruit and flowers, -and fish and game. We call it Mr. Redmond's out-door relief. He is a -kind-hearted old man!"</p> - -<p>"And does he live alone?"</p> - -<p>"No, there is Miss Redmond, his sister, a cripple from rheumatism, and -his ward, a horrid, supercilious creature; and in the shooting season, -he always has a house full. He rents the shooting of Crowmore as well. - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 284]</span> - -Papa lets it—he lets everything."</p> - -<p>Her cousin's eyes travelled reflectively along the extensive demesne -wall, and she said,—</p> - -<p>"Crowmore is a large estate, is it not?"</p> - -<p>"Yes; but you need not run away with the notion that it is a fine -property. We are as poor as rats. On the other hand, Mr. Redmond is as -rich as a Jew."</p> - -<p>"Dido, do tell me who is the unfortunate English girl who has such a -painful effect on Mr. Chute," inquired Helen, as she and her relatives -strolled up the avenue arm-in-arm.</p> - -<p>"Oh, she is not nearly as bad as he makes out, though personally I do -not like her," replied Dido frankly. "She is the girl we were speaking -of just now; a Miss Calderwood—Kate Calderwood—a great heiress."</p> - -<p>"Has she freckles and high shoulders?"—halting as she asked the -question.</p> - -<p>"How on earth did <em>you</em> know?" cried Dido in amazement. "Her shoulders -are up to her ears, and she is as freckled as a turkey's egg! But -for all that they say she is engaged to be married,—and to such a -good-looking man, to Mr. Redmond's favourite nephew, Gilbert Lisle."</p> - -<hr class="r15" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXXIII">CHAPTER XXXIII.<br /><br /> -<span class="small">"THE FANCY."</span></h2> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container39"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="blockquot"> -<div class="verse first-line">"All impediments in fancy's course</div> -<div class="verse">Are motives of more fancy."</div> - </div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Judy the Fancy</span> was one of the most prominent characters about Crowmore. -She lived at the Cross, and haunted that well-beaten thoroughfare from -early morn till dewy eve. Despite her name, "The Fancy" was certainly -no beauty; she had a yellow, wrinkled face, a pair of greedy little -black eyes, and features which bore a ludicrous resemblance to a turnip -ghost. Although she went bare-footed, she wore good, warm clothes, and -a respectable white cap; and no stranger could have guessed at her - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 285]</span> - -profession until she struck up her habitual whine of—"Give the poor -ould woman the price of a cup of tay, your honour, the price of a cup -of tay, and I'll pray for ye; andeed ye might do worse than have the -prayers of the poor!"</p> - -<p>Sitting basking at her post, she taxed all comers, and taxed them most -successfully; for the little world of Crowmore were mortally afraid to -draw down the "Fancy's" tongue, and she received propitiatory offerings -of sods of turf, and "locks of male" from her own class, and numerous -sixpences, and coppers, from well-to-do neighbours.</p> - -<p>She was the mother of Andy All Right, and looked to the Castle with -confidence for the supply of her wardrobe, and praties, and sweet milk. -She would sorely vex the spirits of those who figuratively buttoned -up their pockets, by loud, uncomplimentary remarks on their personal -appearance, painful allusions to family secrets, and dismal prophetic -warnings of their future downfall. Many a stout-hearted man would -rather (if he had no small change), go a round of two miles, than run -the gauntlet of the "Fancy's" corner.</p> - -<p>She had also other means of levying tribute that rarely failed; not -begging with gross directness, or angry importunity, as I regret to say -was her occasional wont, but merely exclaiming aloud, as if talking to -herself,—</p> - -<p>"Musha! and it's Mrs. Megaw! and 'tis herself has the finest young -family in the whole side of the country; faix, no one denies that, not -wan; and signs on it, 'tis the mother they takes afther!"</p> - -<p>Or to a victim of the sterner sex (who are equally vulnerable in such -matters),—</p> - -<p>"And so that's Tim Duffy!"—in a tone of intense surprise—"sure, -an' I hardly know him. Troth, and it's a <em>trate</em> to sit here and see -the likes of him going by. It's an officer in the army he should be, -instead of trailing there, afther a cart of turf!"</p> - -<p>These little speeches, had an excellent effect, and generally bore a -rich harvest. She had also an unfailing method of raising a spirit of -emulation among her benefactors. As for instance, having received, -we will say sixpence, from some charitable hand, she would turn it - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 286]</span> - -over rather contemptuously in her palm, and exclaim, in a tone more of -sorrow than of anger,—</p> - -<p>"Well, I always thought ye were as free-handed as Mrs. Ryan; and <em>she</em> -never asks me to look at less than a shilling! But maybe ye can't so -well afford it, dear; and God bless ye all the same."</p> - -<p>As Helen and her cousins returned from church on Sunday, they descried -the "Fancy" sitting on the hall door-steps; a clean cap on her head, -and a pipe in her mouth.</p> - -<p>"Your servant, ladies," she said, without rising, and gazing over their -heads in a rather abstracted (not to say embarrassing) fashion.</p> - -<p>"Well, Judy, and what is it to-day?" inquired Dido.</p> - -<p>"Oh, it's only Mr. Barry. He is inside"—with a wave of her pipe. "He -is a Justice of the Pace now, and I want him to do a small turn for me. -Just go in and don't trouble yourself about me, dearie."</p> - -<p>"So Barry is here!" cried Katie, visibly delighted. "What brings him? -Sunday is never his day?"</p> - -<p>"No," admitted her sister, as she followed her into the hall; "but he -has come to see Helen; and it gives him an excuse for his best clothes."</p> - -<p>Two large pointers with swaggering bodies, animated tails, and muddy -paws, now rushed out of the drawing-room to meet them; and in the -drawing-room, extended full length on the sofa, in an easy, negligent -attitude, they discovered the pointers' master. Turning his face -towards the door, he said,—</p> - -<p>"So you are back at last," then rising slowly, and putting his boots -on the ground, he raised himself to his full height, shot his cuffs, -and stared fixedly at Helen, and she at him (it must be confessed); he -was far, far worse than she had expected. She beheld a middle-sized -man, with bandy legs, a red face, and beaming countenance,—lit up by -an inward sun of self-complacency—dressed in a short cutaway coat, -a white waistcoat, and brilliant tie,—the sleeves of his coat and -the legs of his trousers revealed an unusual margin of red wrist and -grey stocking; but these discrepancies did not occasion the smallest - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 287]</span> - -embarrassment to their wearer.</p> - -<p>"I hope you have been pretty comfortable, Barry?" inquired Dido, with a -rueful glance at the tumbled cushions and antimacassars.</p> - -<p>"No; that old bench of yours is as hard as a board! This is Miss Denis, -isn't it? Miss Denis," laying his hand on his heart, and making a low -bow, "your most humble."</p> - -<p>Which salute the young lady acknowledged by sweeping him a somewhat -disdainful curtsey.</p> - -<p>"Many in church?"—now looking at Katie.</p> - -<p>"Oh, the usual set, Reids and Redmonds. Mr. Redmond walked down the -avenue with Helen. Helen, you have certainly made a conquest <em>there</em>."</p> - -<p>"Of course she has," quoth Barry, seating himself; "it is not every day -he sees a pretty girl in these parts." Thus administering a compliment -to her, and a backhander to his cousins in the same breath.</p> - -<p>"What was Miss Calderwood saying to you, Dido?" inquired -Katie,—totally ignoring the foregoing agreeable speech!</p> - -<p>"Oh, she talked of the weather, and about Helen. She wanted to know -when she came, how long she was going to stay, and if it was true she -was a governess?"</p> - -<p>"Odious girl!" cried Katie, "she has a knack of asking nasty questions. -I can't endure her—nor the glare of her cold grey eyes."</p> - -<p>"Oh, she is not a bad sort of young woman," protested Barry, sticking -his thumbs in the arm-holes of his waistcoat, and leaning back in his -chair. "She and I get on first-class; but all the same, and quite -between ourselves, girls, I would never think of marrying her!"</p> - -<p>Helen stared in astonishment. Unquestionably here was a creature who -pressingly invited the most inflexible snubbings! He on his part had -been gazing at her with untrammelled amazement and admiration, and -now that these feelings had slightly subsided, began to engage her in -conversation.</p> - -<p>"And how do you like this part of the world?"</p> - -<p>"Very much indeed."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 288]</span></p> - -<p>"Humph! I would not have thought you were so easily pleased; it will -seem uncommonly dull after all your fine times in the East; there you -had balls, and parties, and admirers by the score."</p> - -<p>Helen drew up her neck, and looked dignified, and he said to himself, -"Ha, ha, my fine madam, I'll have to take you down a peg, if that's -your style."</p> - -<p>"Had you a comfortable situation in London at that school?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, thank you," she replied haughtily.</p> - -<p>"Well, we shall not allow you to go back this long time! Dido, we -must take Helen (could she believe her ears?) over to the band at -Terryscreen next week. I'LL treat you all at the hotel. You don't -mind me calling you Helen, do you? You know we are all cousins here!" -concluded Barry, with a discriminating readiness to claim kinship with -a pretty girl.</p> - -<p>"Yes," he said to himself, "Katie and Dido were not bad in their way, -but this new connection was really splendid!"</p> - -<p>In his mind's eye he already saw himself proudly parading her at the -band, and driving his intimates, and maybe the officers (who were <em>not</em> -his intimates) simply mad with envy.</p> - -<p>She was a little bit stiff now, but that would soon wear off.</p> - -<p>"And how is the great inventor?" he inquired facetiously.</p> - -<p>"As usual," responded Dido, "quite well and very busy."</p> - -<p>"Is luncheon ready? for I'm as hungry as a hawk," he said. "I hope you -have got something decent to-day. None of your bacon and eggs! Mind, -Helen, you don't let them starve you, they are by no means liberal -with their butcher's meat," and he laughed uproariously, and evidently -considered that he had said something exquisitely witty.</p> - -<p>"We always have meat on <em>Sundays</em>," said Dido sarcastically, as she led -the way to an excellent repast in the dining-room.</p> - -<p>When Barry had taken the edge off his appetite, which he compassed in - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 289]</span> - -a manner that excited Helen's disgust, he looked across at her, and -said abruptly,—</p> - -<p>"What's the name of those islands you were at?"</p> - -<p>"The Andamans."</p> - -<p>"You had fine times; twenty men to one girl, and no end of tennis and -parties; it's the other way about here," grinning complacently, "twenty -girls to one man, and no parties, balls, or fun of any kind."</p> - -<p>"I was only at one dance all the time I was at Port Blair."</p> - -<p>"Port Blair! <em>now</em> i have it!" suddenly laying down his knife and fork, -and speaking in a loud, exultant tone, "I <em>thought</em> i had heard of the -place somewhere. Girls, I'll tell you who was at those islands for -months, old Redmond's nephew! I say, Helen, did you ever come across a -fellow, of the name of Lisle?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, I knew him," returning his gaze with calm, untroubled eyes.</p> - -<p>"He was there for a long time. What was the attraction, eh?"</p> - -<p>"How can I tell you? Sport, I believe."</p> - -<p>"Oh!" with a palpable wink at Katie. "Sport! There are a good many -different kinds of <em>sport</em>. And now tell me what you think of him."</p> - -<p>"I'm not prepared with an opinion at such short notice."</p> - -<p>"Which means that you don't like him! Neither do <em>I</em>. Come, that's one -bond of union—give us your hand on it," jumping up and stretching -an eager red member across the table,—where it remained alone, and -unsought!</p> - -<p>"I never said that I did not like Mr. Lisle," returned Helen, with -freezing politeness.</p> - -<p>"Oh!" drawing back, visibly affronted. "So that's the way with you, -is it? Well, he is not a bad-looking chap, and you know he is a great -catch! Plenty of <em>other</em> girls would give their ears to marry him."</p> - -<p>"Pray explain yourself, Mr. Sheridan," said Helen, fiercely. "Do you -mean me to understand that <em>I</em> would have given my ears to marry him?" -Her eyes were flashing and her colour rising, and there was every -indication of a domestic storm.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 290]</span></p> - -<p>"Don't mind him! Don't mind him!" cried Katie, gallantly turning the -tide of battle, "it's only his chaff; he <em>loves</em> to put people in a -passion. Barry, you must really remember that Helen is not used to your -jokes <em>yet</em>."</p> - -<p>"Nor ever would be," thought that young lady, wrathfully.</p> - -<p>"Oh, well, no offence, no offence; I did not know you were so <em>touchy</em> -about him! He is a great favourite with the old boy—I mean his -uncle,—but he is hardly ever here, always rambling about the world. I -think myself, he is by no means the saint his fond relations imagine, -and that he has a screw loose somewhere."</p> - -<p>"And I'm sure he has not," rejoined Dido, hotly. "I like him, though -I've only met him once or twice. He is a gentleman, which is more than -I can say for other people in this part of the world. He is delightful -to talk to, very good-looking, never gives himself airs, never -brags——"</p> - -<p>"One would think you were his hired trumpeter," interrupted Barry, -angrily. "What do <em>you</em> know, a girl like <em>you</em>! Believe me, still -waters run deep. Give me a jolly, above-board chap that will light a -pipe, and mix a tumbler of whisky punch, and open his mind to you! None -of your cool, deliberate fellows, who smoke cigarettes, drink claret, -and look as if you have seven heads when you make a little joke."</p> - -<p>"I wonder if he is coming for the shooting," said Katie, amiably -anxious to smooth matters. "He is fond of it, I know."</p> - -<p>"Yes, and a fair shot, but jealous, as I found the only day I was out -with him; <em>twice</em> he took my bird."</p> - -<p>"Perhaps because you missed it," retorted Dido, coolly. "Sometimes he -comes for a month's hunting in winter,"—turning to Helen. "He's a -splendid rider, the best in the county."</p> - -<p>"Well, I don't know about that, Dido! Ahem! I don't wish to praise -myself, but I'll be glad to hear of a more forward man with the Bag Fox -pack, than Barry Sheridan, Esq., J.P. Why, the very last time I was out -I jumped a gate—a five-barred gate!" addressing himself specially to -Helen.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 291]</span></p> - -<p>"Then if you did, Barry," said Dido, rising and pushing back her chair, -"it must have been on the <em>ground</em>! You know very well that you can't -ride a yard. Your shooting I don't deny; but when you boast of jumping -five-barred gates, you know you are talking nonsense." So saying, -she walked out of the room, followed by the two girls and Barry—who -brought up the rear after a considerable interval, muttering wrathfully -to himself.</p> - -<p>As he passed into the hall, he came in full view of the "Fancy," seated -on the steps. On beholding him, she called out in her most dulcet -coaxing key,—</p> - -<p>"Oh, my own darling young gentleman, you are a sight for sore eyes; -your 'Fancy' has been waiting on you these two hours!"</p> - -<p>"Then she <em>must</em> wait," he growled, nevertheless approaching, with his -hands in his pockets and a rather important strut.</p> - -<p>"Oh, then, I know ye don't mane <em>that</em>. An' sure now, Miss," appealing -to Helen, and languishing at her with her head on one side, "and isn't -he an ornament to any country?"</p> - -<p>Helen became crimson with suppressed laughter, and was totally unable -to utter any reply. However, her levity was not lost on Barry, who made -a note of it against some future occasion, when she should be repaid in -kind.</p> - -<p>"Well, Judy, what is it?" impatiently.</p> - -<p>"Only a whisper, darlin'. 'Tis just this," suddenly rising to her feet, -"ever since I lost me health, come Christmas twenty years, and manny -and manny a time before that, I washed for your mother——"</p> - -<p>"Just cut all that part, will you?"</p> - -<p>"Well thin, I'm here at the Cross, a poor, lone widder, that has -buried all belonging to me but Andy, and living on the charity of the -public, as ye know, this blessed nineteen years! And now, a thief of -a black stranger from beyant Terryscreen, has come and set himself -down alongside of me. A <em>blind</em> man itself—any way it's what he lets -on—and every one knows I'm <em>not</em>; and they are all for giving to the -poor dark creature. And sure, he has me ruined and destroyed entirely!" -now raising her voice a full octave, and commencing to cry with -alarming energy.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 292]</span></p> - -<p>"You know if I did right I'd give you six weeks of Terryscreen jail for -begging in the public highway," said Barry, magisterially.</p> - -<p>"An' if ye did that same," drying her eyes, and stretching out her -hands, "I take these beautiful angels as mee witnesses, I'd rather have -six weeks from your honour, than six days from another; and that's as -sure as I'm standing here!"</p> - -<p>Barry was palpably flattered, and grinned, and looked at Helen out of -the corner of his left eye to see if she was impressed, as much as -to say, "What do you think of <em>that</em>?"—But, unfortunately, she was -grinning also.</p> - -<p>"Indeed, it's bitterly cold in winter," put in Dido, "and I'm not a bit -sorry that some one has taken your corner. With Andy in constant work, -and milk, and potatoes, and a pinch of tea from us, you know you will -<em>never</em> miss it."</p> - -<p>"Arrah, Miss Dido! sure ye don't know what you are talking about. -And how would ye? If that rapscallion gets a footing in my holding, -it's ruin and destruction that's in it; just that, and no more! Why," -lowering her voice mysteriously, "sure it's as good as a <em>farm</em> to me, -darlin'! Aye, and betther; it's all in-comings, and no stock, and no -rint."</p> - -<p>This amazing confidence threw an entirely new light on the subject. Her -three listeners stared at the old woman in respectful astonishment. -They would have stared still more, could they have seen the -comfortably-filled stocking that was hidden away under the thatch of -Judy's cabin.</p> - -<p>"Well, I can't stay here all day. I'll see what I can do for you," said -Barry, abruptly. "I've important papers to sign at home, and I must be -off."</p> - -<p>The truth was, that the good gentleman was ruffled at Helen's attitude -of repressed amusement, and at Dido's courageous candour; and he felt -that he could not punish the offending couple more simply, or more -effectually, than by removing himself, and leaving them to their own -devices all through the long Sunday afternoon. He flattered himself -that Miss Denis would <em>soon</em> learn his value.</p> - -<p>Now Barry was the only eligible bachelor, in a neighbourhood where -there were legions of girls,—and was fully sensible of his own - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 293]</span> - -importance. In his secret heart, he believed that he had only to ask -any young woman within a radius of say twenty miles, and, in his own -homely parlance, "she would be thankful to jump at him." And he felt -conscious that he was dealing a cruel blow to the little circle at -Crowmore when, seizing his hat and stick, and calling his dogs, he bade -them a general farewell, and hurried down the steps.</p> - -<p>His departure was the signal for the "Fancy" to take leave. Willy -nilly, she escorted him to the gate,—to the intense delight of the -spectators in the doorway. Vainly he tried to shake her off; vainly -he increased his pace; his manœuvres were totally unavailing, his -companion still trotted bare-footed beside him, gesticulating as she -went with both head and hands. Her eloquence undoubtedly had its -reward, for within a week "the dark man from beyond Terryscreen" had -mysteriously disappeared, and she reigned in undisputed possession of -her own warm corner.</p> - -<hr class="r15" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXXIV">CHAPTER XXXIV.<br /><br /> -<span class="small">"THE SLAVE OF BEAUTY."</span></h2> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container38"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="blockquot"> -<div class="verse first-line">"A 'strange coincidence,' to use a phrase</div> -<div class="verse">By which such things are settled now-a-days."</div> - - </div> - </div> - </div> -</div> -<div class="sig-left60"><span style="margin-left: 1em;"><cite>Byron.</cite></span></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">"Here's</span> the comrade of your glove, Miss Dido," said Biddy, descending -into the hall, where the three girls, attired in their best summer -dresses (being about to set forth for a tennis party at Ballyredmond), -were impatiently awaiting her.</p> - -<p>"Will I do?" inquired Dido, as she received her property. "Or is my hat -too shabby? This is its third summer, you know!"</p> - -<p>"An' deed, an' you'll do finely; 'tis only too grand you are! What -call is there to be dressing just for the ould gentleman and Miss -Calderwood, and maybe Misther Barry, that ye can see any day of the -week without putting yourselves to any rounds at all?" demanded Biddy - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 294]</span> - -in an acrimonious key.</p> - -<p>"Oh, but this is to be quite a grand affair," protested her younger -nursling. "We have had three days' invitation. It's my opinion," -glancing at her pretty cousin, "that this 'at home' is given for <em>you</em>, -Helen. Mr. Redmond has been here twice this week; you have bewitched -him."</p> - -<p>"I would not put it past him! for nothing grows old with a man but his -clothes," cried Biddy scornfully. "And shure he might give something -dacent when he went about it; <em>I've</em> no opinion of these grass parties -and chape entertainments. God be with the good ould times, when no one -was axed to cross the door, under a dinner or a ball; indade, Redmond's -own father used to give the height of high feedin' and kep' a butt -of claret standing in the hall, just ready to your hand. But now, -when you go out, no one even so much as axes, if you have a mouth on -you?—for—by a drink of tay, that wake, that ye can see the bottom of -the cup!"</p> - -<p>Notwithstanding this gloomy sketch, the three young ladies (to whom -this "chape entertainment" was a delightful novelty) were not the least -disheartened, and set off to walk across the demesne in the highest -possible spirits, leaving Biddy and her apple-cheeked niece filling up -the doorway, and gazing after them with the affectionate complacency of -people who were surveying a creditable personal possession.</p> - -<p>"There's not their like in the county!" exclaimed Sally, as she folded -her massive arms across her apron strings.</p> - -<p>"No, nor in ten counties! and what's the good of it all; will ye tell -me that?" inquired her aunt peevishly. "There's Miss Dido, with the -walk of a duchess and the voice of a thrush, and Miss Helen, a real -beauty, and Katie not too bad entirely,—and not a sign of any one, -watching wan of them!"</p> - -<p>"I think Misther Barry has an eye on Miss Denis," insinuated Sally -timidly.</p> - -<p>"Is it that spalpeen? An' much good may it do him! She would not look -at the same side of the road as him," returned Biddy fiercely. "He -would not dar' to ax her. Shure she's the only one of them all knows - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 295]</span> - -how to talk to him, and that quenches him rightly."</p> - -<p>"That's true for you," assented Sally, nodding her head in grave -acknowledgment of this indisputable fact.</p> - -<p>"It's just killing me," continued the old woman, "to see them young -ladies wasting their looks and their years here, slaving in the house, -and garden, like blacks. What's to be the end of it, at all, at all?"</p> - -<p>"The end will be that the masther will burn us all in our beds yet," -replied Sally with angry promptitude. "What is he up to now?" glancing -at one of the tower windows, out of which vast volumes of dense black -smoke were curling in lazy clouds.</p> - -<p>"Oh, the Lord only knows!" retorted her aunt impatiently, as she turned -and walked into the hall with an unusually sour expression on her -jovial old countenance.</p> - -<p>"There's no daling with the likes of him," she muttered as she -descended to the lower regions, "for he will nayther do wan thing, or -the other; he won't go properly out of his mind, and he won't lave it -alone; and he has me fairly bothered, and me heart is broke, with his -mischeevous contrivances."</p> - -<p>Meanwhile, the three girls walked over the hill, and passed through -Dillon's gate into the precincts of Ballyredmond, a fine park of -seemingly endless extent, through which a beautifully-kept avenue wound -like a white ribbon, by clumps of beeches, rows of lime trees, and -great solitary oaks. Nearer the house beds of brilliant flowers broke -the monotony of the turf, and a long gravelled terrace was crowned -by an ugly but dignified-looking mansion, that seemed an appropriate -centre for the surrounding scene.</p> - -<p>The Misses Sheridan and Miss Denis were the last arrivals, and were -received by Miss Redmond in the pleasure-ground. They found her sitting -under a tree in her bath chair, arrayed in her best white shawl and a -picturesque garden bonnet. She was a pretty old lady, with white hair, -an ivory skin, and soft, caressing manners, and she greeted the three -chaperoneless (to coin a word) girls with evident pleasure. Not so -Miss Calderwood, the deputy hostess; her welcome was by no means so - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 296]</span> - -gracious or so genial. She gave the two Sheridans a limp shake-hands, -and bestowed a curt bow and a long stare upon their cousin, the -governess (who was looking remarkably pretty and well-dressed in one -of the costumes upon which Mrs. Creery had once fixed her elderly -affections). Evidently she did not think that Miss Denis was entitled -to participate in the advantages of her acquaintance and patronage. -However, Mr. Redmond more than atoned for his ward's deficiencies. He -led Helen to a seat, introduced her to several of the county people, -fussed about her rather too assiduously with tea and cakes and other -light refreshments, and finally took share of the same rustic bench, -and engaged her entire attention.</p> - -<p>Biddy's dismal forebodings had been brilliantly refuted. We notice the -party from the Rectory (a considerable contingent), several remote -families, half-a-dozen officers from a garrison town, and last, but by -no means least, our friend Barry, standing beside Miss Calderwood, with -his hands behind his back, and such an air of serious criticism in his -port, that one would imagine he was in an African slave-market, and -contemplated the purchase of one or two of Mr. Redmond's guests.</p> - -<p>Mr. Redmond himself never left Helen's side, and coolly (and I consider -selfishly) dismissed all overtures respecting a game of tennis, with -a bland wave of his hand. His beautiful young <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">protégée</i>, the desired -partner of several eligible tennis players, was simply not allowed to -have a voice in the matter.</p> - -<p>"We are very happy here! Just go away, my good fellow, and leave us -alone," was his complacent reply to each eager suitor. "You and I," -to Helen, "will do better than that! we will stroll round the grounds -together by-and-by, when all these energetic idiots have settled down -to what they consider the business of life."</p> - -<p>It never seemed to occur to him that Helen would have preferred to join -the said band of energetic idiots, or to have liked the company of a -younger swain—and presently he marched her off—to make a grand tour -of the greenhouses and gardens.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 297]</span></p> - -<p>Although Mr. Redmond was a little, round, old gentleman, who had -white eyebrows, and wore an ostentatious brown wig—his heart was as -young, as susceptible, and as fickle as if he was three-and-twenty; he -delighted in a pretty face, and especially in the company of a lovely, -smiling girl, like his present companion, who, besides all her other -charms, proved to be a most accomplished listener. As they walked, he -talked, talked incessantly; indeed, the garrulous old personage became -most gratuitously confidential about his property, his neighbours, -and his nephew. "My nephew" was dragged headlong into every other -sentence,—conversationally you came face to face with "my nephew" at -each corner; his opinion was quoted on all conceivable subjects, from -politics down to black currant jam. Another listener might have been -a little bored, and even irritated, but the pretty tall girl in white -listened with a greedy attention, of which she angrily told herself she -ought to be heartily ashamed.—The world was but a small place after -all! Here, in what her aunt Julia called the "wilds," she was strolling -along, <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr"> tête-à-tête</i> with Gilbert Lisle's uncle, undoubtedly the very -identical old gentleman whom he had mentioned as carrying on an ink -feud with his father, but who was somewhat partial to <em>him</em>. Partial -was no word for it! infatuation was nearer to the mark.</p> - -<p>"I'm sure all those young fellows are mad with me for carrying you -off," and he chuckled delightedly. "But, after all, it's no reason that -because I'm an old fogey I'm not to have a pleasant afternoon, too, eh? -From the time I could walk alone, I was always the slave of Beauty!" -Here he doffed his hat, and made Helen a most courtly bow, at which she -blushed and laughed.</p> - -<p>"Yes, the slave of Beauty; all the same," resuming his hat with a -flourish; "I never married, you see! The fact was, I butterflied about -too long, and then it was winter before I knew where I was! We are not -a marrying family; there's my sister and myself, and my nephew, I'm -always preaching to him, but he laughs when I talk to him, and tells me -to go and marry myself—impudent rascal, that's a nice way to speak to -his uncle, eh? All the same, he is a fine fellow, as true as steel, - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 298]</span> - -and a more honourable, upright gentleman never drew breath; whoever -gets him for a husband will be a lucky girl."</p> - -<p>The corners of his companion's pretty lips curved somewhat scornfully, -and she said to herself, "Shall I explode a social torpedo under this -innocent old gentleman's feet, and say I know your illustrious nephew, -he asked <em>me</em> to marry him, and instantly took ship and left me; -although he swore that he would return, as surely as the sun rose in -the heavens! Would it be agreeable to her companion to learn that his -paragon's idea of honour was more elastic than he imagined?"</p> - -<p>"Two or three times," continued Mr. Redmond, "I've tried to marry my -nephew to some nice girl, and it has always been a dead failure, I've -picked out a beauty, had her to stay, got up riding parties, driving -parties, and even moonlight picnics (as if moonlight picnics were -irresistible), and it was all no go. Just as I thought everything was -arranged, he would slip through my fingers like a piece of soap!" -(precisely Helen's own experience). "Well, now I want to ask your -advice. What do you think of those two yew-trees?" he demanded with -rather bewildering suddenness.</p> - -<p>"I—candidly, I don't admire them; they remind one of a church-yard."</p> - -<p>"Exactly, and as I don't want to be reminded of anything so deuced -unpleasant: down they shall come! And, now, what's your opinion of -these new flower-beds they have just cut out in this ribbon garden?"</p> - -<p>"I think they are not sharp enough at the corners; they are too much -the shape of biscuits,—the 'People's mixed.'"</p> - -<p>"So they are! and shall we have them filled with pink verbenas, or -crimson geraniums?"</p> - -<p>"Crimson—that lovely new, deep shade."</p> - -<p>"And crimson it shall be! Allow me to give you this rose!" suddenly -plucking one as he spoke. "My dear Miss Denis, I see that our tastes -are identical.—I only wish I was a young man for your sake."</p> - -<p>His companion made no response, but on the whole she thought she -preferred him as he was.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 299]</span></p> - -<p>By this time they had encountered various other promenading couples, -and in a shady walk they came face to face with Barry and Miss -Calderwood, and the latter, instead of passing by on the other side, -with her nose in the air, halted directly in front of Helen, and said -most abruptly,—</p> - -<p>"Miss Denis, Mr. Sheridan tells me that you were in the Andamans with -Gilbert Lisle,—and knew him <em>intimately</em>!"</p> - -<p>Helen coloured vividly, partly at this sudden accost and partly because -of that sting in the tail of the sentence, that thrice underlined word -"intimately;" and Mr. Redmond, wheeling swiftly round so as to face -her, ejaculated, "God bless my soul! you don't tell me so."</p> - -<p>"Yes, I knew a Mr. Lisle in the Andamans," admitted Helen reluctantly.</p> - -<p>"Only fancy! How immensely funny!" drawled Miss Calderwood.</p> - -<p>To Helen there had been nothing specially amusing in the acquaintance, -so she closed her lips firmly and held her peace.</p> - -<p>"Why—why—I've been talking to you about him for the last hour, and -you never told me this!" cried Mr. Redmond, eyeing her with an air of -angry suspicion. "Eh, what?"</p> - -<p>"You mentioned no name," faltered the young lady, feeling that verily -this quibbling with the truth was as bad as any downright lie; but -confronted by three curious faces, with the eyes of Barry—of Gilbert -Lisle's uncle—and Gilbert Lisle's betrothed, fixed imperatively on -hers—was she to appease their greedy curiosity and boldly confess the -painful reason of her silence? was she to proclaim the humiliating fact -that they were all staring at the girl who had been jilted by that -honourable gentleman?</p> - -<p>"Mentioned no name—neither I did! And how were you to know? Eh, what? -Well, and what did you think of my nephew?" inquired the loquacious old -relative.</p> - -<p>At this point-blank query Miss Calderwood flashed a satirical look at -Miss Denis, as much as to say, "What a silly unnecessary question!" But -Helen met her eyes with proud steadiness.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 300]</span></p> - -<p>"I think most people liked Mr. Lisle," she answered with well-assumed -carelessness.</p> - -<p>"And how long was he at the Andamans?" continued Mr. Redmond.</p> - -<p>"About six months."</p> - -<p>"Six months! And what was he doing there all that time? Any little -entanglement—eh?" rather anxiously.</p> - -<p>"I cannot tell you."</p> - -<p>"Ah!—I see that you know more about Gilbert than you will admit!" -exclaimed Miss Calderwood with a sharp accusing glance. "I believe -girls in India are odious creatures. I have no doubt he got into some -scrape out there." Helen blushed scarlet. "Yes," with an unpleasant -little laugh, "your face tells tales. I suppose he was drawn into some -silly flirtation—men <em>are</em> such fools! Well, it is very good of you to -keep his secret; it's more than others would have done!" and with this -insolent hint and a patronizing nod the heiress walked on.</p> - -<p>Helen felt almost breathless with anger. "She had the passions of her -kind;" her eyes sparkled, her nostrils quivered as she gazed after -her receding rival. What had she done that she should be insulted and -flouted by this supercilious heiress?</p> - -<p>"Scrape!—stuff! Flirtation!—rubbish! It's all jealousy, every bit of -it!" cried Mr. Redmond, as he removed his hat and cautiously passed his -bandana across his forehead. "Gilbert is not a ladies' man—I only wish -he was! And so you knew him very well? Eh, what?"</p> - -<p>"As well as most people," turning away to break off a bit of syringa.</p> - -<p>"Well, now let me hear all about him," very eagerly. "He hardly ever -writes, and when he does there's nothing in his letters. Come, now, -what did he do? How did he pass his time?"</p> - -<p>"I really cannot tell you much—he lived a long way off on the -mainland. I believe he spent his days in fishing and sailing. He liked -the Andamans because they were a lazy, out-of-the-world region."</p> - -<p>"I hope to goodness he liked them for nothing <em>else</em>. Eh, what? Six -months' sailing and fishing was the deuce of a time, you know! You - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 301]</span> - -don't—just between you and me, you know—you don't think he had any -<em>other</em> attraction? Eh, what—what?"</p> - -<p>"Honestly, I don't believe he cared a straw for any one in the place," -raising her eyes gravely to his, and speaking with unusual emphasis.</p> - -<p>"Oh, well, I fancy <em>you</em> would be likely to know," rejoined the old -gentleman innocently. "We must have some nice long talks about Gilbert; -but just now I'm afraid we will have to go back to the tennis-ground; I -want to have a chat with old Mrs. Morony. I need not tell you I'd much -rather stay here walking about with you," he added gallantly. "But I -must not be too selfish; and I'll give the young fellows a chance!"</p> - -<p>So Helen was at last released from this purgatorial <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">tête-à-tête</i>, and -permitted to join the rest of the company.</p> - -<p>When she took leave of Miss Calderwood (which I must say she did very -stiffly), she read more than a mere contemptuous dismissal in that -lady's eyes; she saw suspicion, ay, and dislike, lurking in those -shallow grey orbs; but Mr. Redmond wrung her hand affectionately at -parting and said in his heartiest manner,—</p> - -<p>"And to think of your knowing Gilbert! Eh, what? Well, I have dozens of -questions to ask you about him; I shall be over to-morrow or next day."</p> - -<p>"Poor Helen, I pitied you," said Katie as they walked home. "It was too -bad of Mr. Redmond to carry you off."</p> - -<p>"<i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">Il faut souffrir pour être belle</i>," added Dido, with a laugh. "What a -dose you must have had of 'my nephew!—my nephew'!"</p> - -<p>As far as the Misses Sheridan were concerned "the chape entertainment" -had been a prodigious success. They had enjoyed themselves immensely; -had played tennis, sipped tea, and strolled about the grounds under -military escort. Katie's tongue as she tripped along went like the -clapper of the proverbial mill; but Helen was preoccupied and unusually -silent. To return <em>viâ</em> dillon's Gate at the hour of seven p.m. was a -feat quite beyond the Misses Sheridan's courage, and in spite of their -cousin's protestations and remonstrances they insisted on going round -by the road and entered Crowmore by the old avenue. As they turned a - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 302]</span> - -corner they noticed Sally's portly figure speeding towards the Castle -with somewhat guilty haste, and a man approaching in their direction -with his hands in his pockets and a straw in his mouth. To Helen's -amazement it was Larry Flood.</p> - -<p>"More power, ladies," was his brief but novel greeting.</p> - -<p>"A fine evening, Larry," returned Dido. "So you have been walking with -Sally?"</p> - -<p>"'Tis only wance in a way, your ladyship."</p> - -<p>"Is Biddy still against it?"</p> - -<p>"She's that much again it, that if I wor to go next or near the house -she'd just pick mee eyes out! Maybe you'll put in a word for me, Miss?"</p> - -<p>"I don't see why Sally should not please herself. She's old enough."</p> - -<p>"Well, for that matter we are both of us pretty long in the tooth! But -I'll have her before the priest in spite of the old wan yet, though she -<em>is</em> trying to draw down a match with Darby Chute!"</p> - -<p>"Oh, <em>that</em> would never do!" exclaimed Helen with involuntary emphasis.</p> - -<p>"I'm entirely of your opinion, Miss," said Larry, turning towards her. -"I see you're none the worse for that little tip off the car! An' you -are looking just as beautiful as a harvest moon!"</p> - -<p>"And how is Finnigan's mare?" she inquired, not to be outdone in -politeness.</p> - -<p>"Oh, faix!" scratching his head, "shure she nearly drowned herself and -me about a month ago. Coming out of Terryscreen fair and aisy, we met -a band of music all of a sudden on the bridge, and without the least -provocation she just turned about and leapt over the parapet, car and -all!"</p> - -<p>"And did YOU go over, Larry?" asked Helen with benevolent solicitude.</p> - -<p>"Troth, and I did not. <em>I</em> stayed on land. We had terrible work to -get her out, though she swam like an otter, and there was no great -harm done, barrin' to the shafts again; but the mails was soaking -wet—just in a sort of pulp; and the postmaster was raging and spoke - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 303]</span> - -very bitter. The end of it was I had to get shut of the mare! A horse -on the road is well enough; but when they show a taste for the water -it's a different kind of driving is required. So I sold her to a canal -boatman—and maybe she's aisy now. She'll be hard set to run away with -the boat! Well, she was a fine traveller!" he concluded regretfully.</p> - -<p>"And what have you now?"</p> - -<p>"Only the blind brown, till the fair of Banagher. He's a hape of work -in him yet, and there's no fear of <em>him</em> shying. Well, Miss Dido, I'll -not be detaining you. You'll mind and put in a word for me with the -ould 'fostooke,'—I mane Biddy Macgravy. Tell her I'm a warm man, and -an honest man, and a dacent man. Sure all the world knows that! She's -taking her pigs to the wrong market," he added significantly, as he -abruptly touched his caubeen, and departed.</p> - -<p>"Modesty, thy name is Larry Flood!" ejaculated Helen. "Every one know's -he's an honest man, and a dacent man!"</p> - -<p>"Well, yes, he is in his way," acquiesced Dido, "but HE knows who is -the heiress of these parts, and that Sally is a splendid dairy woman, -and has a fortune of forty pounds! not to speak of a second-hand gold -watch!"</p> - -<hr class="r15" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXXV">CHAPTER XXXV.<br /><br /> -<span class="small">"THE APPARITION."</span></h2> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container37"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="blockquot"> -<div class="verse first-line">"And having once turned round, walks on,</div> -<div class="verse indent2">And turns no more his head,</div> -<div class="verse">Because he knows a frightful fiend</div> -<div class="verse indent2">Doth close behind him tread."</div> - </div> - </div> - </div> -</div> -<div class="sig-left60"><span style="margin-left: 1em;"><cite>Ancient Mariner.</cite></span></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">However</span> highly Mr. Sheridan's intellectual faculties might be rated -by foreign philosophers, and corresponding <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">savants</i>, yet, like the -typical prophet, he had no honour in his own country, and was credited -by the most lenient, with wanting at least one day in the week! Even -Andy All Right (who was dimly conscious of his own deficiencies), had - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 304]</span> - -more than once been heard to draw comparisons between himself and his -master, which were by no means to the latter's advantage.</p> - -<p>Helen saw but little of her uncle; indeed, only on those rare -occasions, when he joined his family at dinner, and during that meal, -he rarely opened his lips, save for the purpose of swallowing food, -his attention was wholly absorbed by some object not present, that -monopolized all his thoughts. Now and then he would pause, lay down -his knife and fork, lean back in his chair, and meditatively comb his -beard with somewhat inky fingers, sometimes he would suddenly catch -fire at a passing remark, and use it as a text for an unexpected -and eloquent lecture on astronomy, biology, philosophy, or even -hydrophobia; he had an excellent and intelligent listener in his -niece, who followed him patiently through all the mazes of his varied -subjects, anxiously endeavouring to glean information for the benefit -of herself and her pupils; (and what she could not comprehend, from its -being enclosed in a labyrinth of words, she modestly attributed to her -own mental density). As Mr. Sheridan proceeded with his discourse, his -voice gradually gained such force, his words came so rapidly and so -opportunely, that he seemed to be completely transformed. As he warmed -to his subject, he would start from his seat, his dark eyes flashing, -his weird hands waving, he looked more like an impassioned Druid, -invoking his countrymen to war, and human sacrifices, than a modern -paterfamilias, presiding at a frugal domestic meal. Then, as suddenly -as it had kindled, the fire would expire, he would pause abruptly, -sigh, and presently push back his chair, and steal noiselessly from the -room.</p> - -<p>He lived altogether in the tower, behind barred and bolted doors, and -through which Dido and Biddy had the sole <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">entrée</i>, and there,—secure -against interruption, or indiscreet investigation,—he carried on -some mysterious undertaking, to which he gave the rather vague name -of "scientific research." But loud explosive sounds, odours (not of -Araby), and dense volumes of smoke, were the only outward symptoms of -his industry.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 305]</span></p> - -<p>During all the summer months every one at Crowmore pursued the even -tenour of their way, with uneventful regularity. Larry drove the red -car, and made surreptitious love to Sally, the "Fancy" clamoured at the -Cross, Darby continued to plunder his master, and that master remained -shut up in his fastness, throwing away time, and money, with both hands.</p> - -<p>Helen was an adaptable girl, and was now as much at home at the Castle, -as if she had lived there for years: she had completely regained -her health, and spirits, and was as full of life and energy as the -indefatigable Dido. She toiled in the garden with unremitting industry, -and took as profound an interest in the weekly "cart," and the result -of Sally's "day," as did her cousins themselves. She had learnt how to -make butter, to bandy blarney with her relatives, to baffle Barry's -compliments, and, the greatest feat of all,—elude Mr. Redmond's -cross-examinations.</p> - -<p>By the middle of August, the bushes in the garden were bent down -with fruit, and many and many an hour, the three girls spent picking -strawberries, currants, and gooseberries for the public market, or for -private sale. Time passed merrily enough in songs, stories, jokes, and -riddles, but no story, song, or riddle, had half as much interest for -the Misses Sheridan as their cousin's experiences at Port Blair! This -topic afforded inexhaustible entertainment to these two county mice; -over and over again Helen was called upon to recount her arrival, her -first impressions, to describe boating, shelling, and picnic parties. -Indeed, after a time Dido and Katie said they were perfectly familiar -with the appearance of every one in the settlement, and declared that -they almost felt as if they had been in the islands themselves! Strange -to say, that in the midst of all her glowing descriptions of people and -places, Helen never once let fall the name of <em>Lisle</em>. It was—had her -simple cousins but known—like the play of "Hamlet," without the Prince -of Denmark. She gave spirited representations of Mrs. Creery, and -mimicked Lizzie Caggett's screech, and Apollo's languid drawl. She had -an extraordinary faculty (I will not say talent) for such imitations, -a faculty that had been inflexibly nipped in the bud at school, an - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 306]</span> - -accomplishment that she doubtless inherited from her versatile Greek -mother. Who would have guessed that, at a moment's notice, pretty -Miss Denis, could take off the voice, laugh, and demure manner of any -specified acquaintance? She had never practised this art till now, -when she discovered that a few such illustrations, brightened up her -narrative, and threw her audience into ecstasies of delight.—Helen -was undoubtedly an unusually clever girl, when she could thus infuse -interest, amusement, life and romance into a story—and yet omit the -hero!</p> - -<p>One evening, after early tea, the three girls were busy in the garden, -sitting on little three-legged stools, among a thicket of bushes, -picking raspberries into a huge tin can, when Helen—whose thoughts -were sharpened by her cousins' grinding poverty, their unremitting -endeavours to make both ends meet, and their father's apathetic -seclusion—said suddenly,—</p> - -<p>"Don't think me a Paul Pry, Dido; but do tell me what uncle is -doing.—Is he writing a book?"</p> - -<p>"No; not now.—He <em>has</em> written several splendid pamphlets on -gravitation, and about a dozen on wind; there are thousands of them -upstairs; they did not sell; they were above the average intellect; -indeed, I could not understand them myself. But then, I'm not clever!"</p> - -<p>"Yes, you are, Dido," said her cousin decidedly. "You are a first-rate -musician, a capital German scholar. I wish I had half your brains!"</p> - -<p>"That is nonsense, my dear——"</p> - -<p>"Papa has invented no end of wonderful things," interrupted Katie -proudly.</p> - -<p>Helen looked up expectantly, and Dido answered,—</p> - -<p>"Yes; little machines for measuring and weighing air; but, -unfortunately, his most remarkable contrivances have all been -discovered before!"</p> - -<p>"And what is he doing now?"</p> - -<p>"He is constructing an apparatus that is to be the marvel of the age. -It is to be an overwhelming success. A surprise to humanity; but I do -not know what it is!"</p> - -<p>"Can you not guess?"</p> - -<p>Dido shook her head gravely, and Katie burst out, "Poor papa is out - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 307]</span> - -of his element here. When we were children—indeed, till Dido was -sixteen—we lived in Germany, as you know, at a cheap little place, -called Kraut, and the Padré had plenty of congenial society, and made -many literary friends, who profess a great interest in his work still. -He takes them into his confidence. They know all about it.—They often -write to him——"</p> - -<p>"To ask for money," appended Dido bitterly. "They are not real -<i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">savants</i> and inventors, and great literary lights, as papa fancies—at -least, I don't think they are. Certainly, some of our neighbours at -Kraut were clever, intellectual people, but others, whom papa picked -up in the train, or in the gardens, or the street, it's my opinion -they were all impostors. You remember the man from Baden, Katie; you -remember the Pole; you remember the Italian who——"</p> - -<p>"Don't talk of them!" cried her sister impatiently. "They were all -swindlers and thieves!"</p> - -<p>"And still papa has faith in strangers!" continued Dido. "A man has -only to claim him as a brother inventor, and say he is short of funds, -and were he making an instrument to bray like an ass, the Padré would -send him a cheque for fifty pounds.—And yet he grudges himself a pair -of slippers, and says he can't afford a door-knocker! I've no patience -with these hateful foreign harpies!" she concluded, tossing a handful -of fruit into the general receptacle, and rising as she spoke. "This -can is nearly full," she added; "you two can finish it without me, and -I must go in and weigh the strawberries." So saying, she tucked her -stool under her arm, pushed her way through the bushes, and vanished.</p> - -<p>"Dido is vexed," exclaimed her sister, looking straight at Helen; "and -indeed it is trying sometimes, to think that while she works so hard -to earn a few shillings, the Padré sends away hundreds of pounds to -any person who chooses to write him flattering begging letters! And he -spends a fortune on books—expensive scientific works. He orders whole -boxes full; and when they come he never even opens them! There are a -dozen great cases, all mouldering, out in the coach-house. When mamma -was alive she kept some of the money; and she and the old steward - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 308]</span> - -managed pretty well. After they died there was no one—for of course -the Padré could not have his mind disturbed about pigs and grazing -stock. After a time he took a great fancy to Darby; and Darby and Dido -do their best—and very bad it is! Barry wanted to manage the property, -but papa was furious at the bare notion! I myself, think it would have -been a good plan, but Dido set her face against it; and when she does -that you may give up your point. You have no idea how poor we are, -Helen."</p> - -<p>Helen thought she had some glimmering idea—they could not be poorer -than she was!!! her uncle having borrowed all her earnings, (with the -exception of a few shillings), shortly after her arrival.</p> - -<p>"What becomes of the rent?" she asked.</p> - -<p>"Oh, I don't know! It's paid to papa."</p> - -<p>"And the money for the grazing?"</p> - -<p>"Is paid to him also," admitted Katie reluctantly.</p> - -<p>"And what has uncle done with his time all these years?" she asked -impatiently.</p> - -<p>"Rome was not built in a day," rejoined Katie rather confusedly. "I -believe he is making something marvellous, and that it is nearly -completed. Of course we are pinched now, but we shall be rich some day. -I don't grumble, neither does Dido; for we believe the Padré will be -the great man of the age, and that in years to come, we shall be known -as the daughters of the celebrated Malachi Sheridan!"</p> - -<p>Helen noticed, (not for the first time) that Katie generally talked -fluently of her father in her sister's absence; indeed Dido rarely -alluded to him; on the contrary, she would turn the subject rather -abruptly, when it touched upon him or his pursuits.</p> - -<p>"Dido is not quite so sanguine as she used to be," said Katie, slowly -filtering a handful of fruit through her fingers. "She has never been -the same, since the Padré sent away Mr. Halliday,—her lover."</p> - -<p>"Her lover! Dido's lover!" ejaculated Helen.</p> - -<p>"Yes! don't say I told you, but she had one once. She did not meet him -<em>here</em>, so you need not stare."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 309]</span></p> - -<p>"Perhaps she may not like you to tell me any more—so please <em>don't</em>," -entreated Helen, with extraordinary self-denial.</p> - -<p>"Oh, it's no matter!—it's no secret, the Reids and every one know all -about it. It happened two years ago. After papa's long illness—Dido -was completely worn out with nursing him, and the doctor said she must -have a change to the seaside—and as the Rectory people were going -to Portrush she went with them, and was away for two months—it was -there she met him. He had some appointment in India, and was only on -six months' leave. She came home looking quite beautiful—even Barry -remarked it—and she was engaged to Mr. Halliday—providing papa made -no objection. He wrote to the Padré, a very nice letter I believe, -and what do you think the Padré did? he tore it up into little bits, -enclosed it in an envelope, and sent it back by the next post!"</p> - -<p>"Oh!" groaned Helen, "how frightful! and was Mr. Halliday nice?"</p> - -<p>"<em>Very</em> nice.—Of course I don't go by Dido,—but the Reids were -enchanted with him. He came here, nothing daunted, and insisted on -papa giving him an audience. I was out—just my luck—but Biddy told -me they were shut up in the drawing-room for an hour, and that she -heard the Padré roaring and raving like all the bulls of Bashan. At -last Mr. Halliday came out, looking very white and queer; he had a long -interview with Dido,—and then he went away. Poor Dido, how she used -to cry at night! She told me that Mr. Halliday wanted her to marry him -right off, without papa's consent; as there was nothing against him, -and he was ready to take her out to India then and there and give her a -happy home, and she said she would have gone—only for one reason——"</p> - -<p>"And what was that?"</p> - -<p>"I've been trying to find out for two years, and never discovered it -yet."</p> - -<p>"I wonder what it could have been?" said Helen, musingly—"want of -money?"</p> - -<p>"No! I'm sure it was not that, Mr. Halliday is rich. I've tried to -guess it, and I've given it up at last as a bad job."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 310]</span></p> - -<p>"And so," said Helen to herself, "her merry, lively cousin Dido—whose -wit and spirits rarely failed her—had had what Katie would call 'a -disappointment,' too!"</p> - -<p>"This can is quite full, so come along," said that young lady, rising -with joyous activity. "Thank goodness, these are the last of these -odious raspberries for this year."</p> - -<p>The two girls had locked the garden gate, and were crossing the yard, -carrying the can of fruit between them, when they were nearly knocked -down, by Sally and Andy, who came running frantically in an opposite -direction, and without the smallest apology dashed through the back -door, which they slammed loudly after them. Prompted by very excusable -curiosity, the spectators followed by the same entrance, and discovered -Andy in the middle of the kitchen, looking as if his wits had entirely -departed, and Sally wiping the perspiration from her face with the -corner of her apron, and loudly expounding some terrible experience to -Dido and her aunt.</p> - -<p>"Oh, save us and send us, Miss Katie!" she exclaimed as she entered, -"I'm after seeing the frightfullest thing that walks above ground! It -was ayther an evil sperrit or the ould wan himself! Oh, musha, musha, I -never get such a turn in mee life! Oh, Andy, darlin', what did we ever -do to bring such a thing about us?"</p> - -<p>But Andy was utterly incapable of making any reply, and stood -trembling, and open-mouthed, in the middle of the floor.</p> - -<p>"But what <em>was</em> it?" demanded Helen, approaching the table and laying -down the can.</p> - -<p>"Well then, miss, I'll just describe it, and I'll lave it to yourself -to put a name on it. Andy and me was down at the far croft, looking at -a sick cow, and were coming home, thinking of nothing in the world, -when all at wanst, I saw within two perch of me, what I thought was a -tree walkin'. I nudged Andy, and we both looked, and sure enough, there -it was, as plain as plain, with big wings reaching down each side, and -a long tail trailing after it;" here she was so overcome by the bare -recollection, that she was obliged to stop and gasp for breath, and -once more apply her apron to her countenance.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 311]</span></p> - -<p>"Well, miss, it went by quietly, within about the length of this -kitchen of us,—and never passed no remark, so we just took to our -heels, and ran for the dear life, and small blame to us. And now, Miss -Dido, av I was to be hung in diamonds, I will never set foot outside -the yard after dark!" she concluded with a whimper.</p> - -<p>"Sally, I wonder at you!" exclaimed Helen, "<em>I'll</em> put a name to it, -fast enough—it was the mule you saw! In the dark he looked larger than -usual, his ears were the wings—they are big enough for anything—his -tail—was just his tail!"</p> - -<p>"Ah now, Miss Helen, get out with your jokes! Is it the mule I'm -driving these eight year, and me not know him? Any way, I saw him in -the harness room as I went out—it was never the mule, it was ayther -Dillon in another form—or——" here she paused significantly, and left -her listeners to complete the sentence for themselves.</p> - -<p>The next evening, Helen was sitting out under a hay-cock, after tea, -reading a venerable magazine. She had had a very fatiguing day, and -overcome by the sultry, drowsy air, she fell fast asleep.—After a -pleasant little doze, she awoke with a guilty start, and discovered -that the stars were out, and the midges had gone in, that the air -had become chill,—and that she had been asleep. Somewhat ashamed -of herself, she rose, picked up her book, replaced her hat, and was -turning towards the house, when a curious trailing, whirring noise on -the grass, arrested her attention. Glancing behind her, she beheld what -seemed to be a colossal, winged figure, pacing the sward within ten -yards of her recent nest. A figure somewhat resembling old Father Time, -with pinions which rose and fell, expanded, or collapsed at will. She -stood and stared, in blank bewilderment. The creature, like a gorged -vulture, appeared to be making futile efforts to rise from the ground -and fly! but, in spite of its exertions, and violent, almost passionate -flapping of its wings, it still remained a prisoner to mother earth. -<em>What</em> was it? Was it as Sally had suggested? Her heart stood still, -for she now beheld it moving towards her! she felt her knees giving way -beneath her,—her hair rising on her forehead; she leant against the - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 312]</span> - -hay-cock for support, and tightly closed her eyes. Hearing no sound for -the space of a minute, she ventured to open them once more, and it was -nowhere to be seen. Seizing this opportunity, she flew across the lawn, -and darted into the candle-lit, ever-open hall, from thence into the -dining room, where she sank into the nearest chair, gasping for breath. -She had barely recovered the power of speech, and was about to explain -her condition to her astonished cousins, when the door opened gently, -and her uncle came into the room; he stood near the table, and looking -at her fixedly with his coal-black eyes, said, in his usual slow way,—</p> - -<p>"I'm afraid I alarmed you somewhat, niece—you saw me just now trying -the apparatus."</p> - -<p>Helen gazed at him blankly, unable to utter a word.</p> - -<p>"You look quite foolishly startled; but come with me, and you shall be -completely reassured. Dido and Katie," addressing his daughters, "rise -and follow me, my children, and behold with your own eyes the fruit of -my labours!"</p> - -<hr class="r15" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXXVI">CHAPTER XXXVI.<br /><br /> -<span class="small">"THE APPARATUS."</span></h2> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container38"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="blockquot"> -<div class="verse">"The flighty purpose never is o'ertook."</div> - </div> - </div> - </div> -</div> -<div class="sig-left60"><span style="margin-left: 1em;"><cite>Macbeth.</cite></span></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> three girls lost no time in responding to this invitation; they -crossed the hall, passed through the door connecting it with the -Castle, and ascended a rugged, spiral stone staircase in the wake of -Mr. Sheridan, who preceded them at a swift pace,—carrying a light in -his hand. Halting on the first landing, he threw open a door, and said -to his niece,—</p> - -<p>"This is my library. Here I think, calculate, and write. This room has -been the birth-place of many a glorious inspiration."</p> - -<p>By the glimmer of one candle, Helen made out a large apartment that - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 313]</span> - -seemed to contain nothing but books. They lined the walls, loaded the -tables, and covered the floor. Here and there they stood in untidy -stacks, as if cart-loads of volumes had been shot about the room at -random. The books were doubtless ancient, for a disagreeable odour of -fusty paper and mouldy leather, impregnated the atmosphere, and Helen -was glad to withdraw to the chill but less oppressive staircase, when -her uncle, with a dangerous wave of his composite, said,—</p> - -<p>"Now let us ascend to the '<i xml:lang="la" lang="la">Locus in quo</i>'—in short, to the -laboratory."</p> - -<p>When they reached their destination they found the same wild disorder -reigned there as they had just witnessed below. A forge and bellows, a -carpenter's bench and tools, a lathe, quantities of peculiar-looking -bottles,—presumably containing chemicals; a furnace, steel tools, -newspapers, lumps of coal, bits of whalebone, and the remains of Mr. -Sheridan's dinner on a tray were all mixed up together in extraordinary -confusion. In the middle of the room stood a large table, on which lay -a mysterious object, concealed by a red cover. It was something long, -something broad; but all further speculation was ended by Mr. Sheridan -delicately raising the cloth, and solemnly displaying what looked like -a pair of umbrellas blown inside out!</p> - -<p>"I suppose you know nothing of aerostation?" he said gravely, -addressing his niece.</p> - -<p>She shook her head; shameful to state, the very name was new to her.</p> - -<p>"It is the art—as yet in its infancy—of travelling through the air; -an art that has ever baffled mankind. In me,"—pointing to his beard -with a long forefinger,—"you see the fortunate inventor of a pair -of wings, by means of which I hope shortly to make the first aerial -voyage—and fly to Dublin."</p> - -<p>To an ordinary listener, this announcement would have seemed the mere -raving of a Bedlamite; but the three girls were profoundly impressed by -the inventor's voice, and presence, and enthusiastic belief in himself, -and they hung upon his words, with parted lips, and awe-struck eyes.</p> - -<p>"It is quite true," he resumed, "that Borelli and Liebnitz, both - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 314]</span> - -denied the possibility of any man's flying. But Bacon and Wilkin, -thought as <em>I</em> do," he added with a nod that implied,—"and so much the -better for <em>them</em>!"</p> - -<p>"Observe this," now tenderly holding up a wing. (It was of immense -length, and seemed surprisingly light and flexible.) "Here it is -annexed to the shoulders, by means of mechanical contrivances; these -springs, and a certain amount of muscular exertion, waft a human body -into the elements! <em>Once</em> fairly afloat, a very slight effort, similar -to a bird's, will keep one going for hours! The first ascent is the -principal,—and indeed, I may say,—only difficulty. Fairly poised in -the air, the process is ludicrously simple. The main idea is, to attach -to one's person some mass, which, by being lighter than air, raises -itself, and the annexed incumbrance. But these details are rather -beyond your mental grasp. To be brief, this little contrivance of mine -blows into atoms all other modes of human locomotion—trains, steamers, -carriages, bicycles,—their fate is sealed. We shall all be as the -birds of the air in future. The boon to humanity will be incalculable; -and, believe me, the day predicted by good Bishop Wilkin is not far -distant, when every man who is going a journey, will call for his -<em>wings</em>, just as he now calls for his boots!"</p> - -<p>"I hope you will make us each a pair, papa," said Katie, "whenever your -own are finished."</p> - -<p>To this request her parent vouchsafed no notice, but continued to -expound with increased animation with one hand, as he held up a pinion -in the other.</p> - -<p>"Roger Bacon, the greatest genius the world has seen since Archimedes, -was confident that it was possible to make instruments for flying, and -that a man with wings, sitting in the middle thereof and steering with -a rudder, may pass through the air. I quote from his <i xml:lang="la" lang="la">Opus Magnus</i>, -which he wrote in the form of a letter, to that enlightened prelate, -Pope Clement the Fourth!"</p> - -<p>If anything had been needed to convince Helen and her cousins of the -practicability of the matter in question, the mention of Roger Bacon -was sufficient; and Mr. Sheridan, noting the expression of reverent -attention on their faces, was kindled to still greater enthusiasm.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 315]</span></p> - -<p>"Bacon was a marvellous man! it is true that he indulged in chimerical -notions with regard to prolonging life, and placed some confidence in -astrology, yet the imputation on his character, of a leaning to magic -was totally unfounded. He studied languages, logic, and mathematics; -his information was exhaustive, his premises sound, as in the case in -point," waving his hand dramatically towards the table. "And now, my -children, I will attach these wings to my shoulders, in order that -you may be convinced of their extraordinary value, and of the amazing -dignity which they impart to the human body! Dido, light another -candle. No,—no assistance is required,—I can adjust them myself."</p> - -<p>Helen and her cousins, looked on with breathless interest, whilst Mr. -Sheridan deftly arranged and strapped on the apparatus. Then he held -himself erect before them, and commenced to pace up and down a cleared -space at the end of the room, and as he paced to and fro, he continued -to expound as volubly as ever, on the importance of his prodigious -discovery.</p> - -<p>If any cool-headed, matter-of-fact persons had happened to climb the -ivy, and look in through the shutterless window, and "discovered" the -room dimly lit by two candles (placed on the ground), the gray-robed -figure with trailing wings, lecturing with outstretched hands to a -group of eager-eyed girls,—they would have unhesitatingly declared, -that they were witnessing the exploits of the inmates of some private -lunatic asylum.</p> - -<p>"My dear children," continued Malachi in an impressive tone, "in me you -see, the instrument of introducing a discovery that will be of untold -benefit to all mankind—wherever the wind blows, it will carry the name -of Malachi Sheridan. Of course aerostation is as yet in its infancy," -tenderly stroking one of his pinions as he spoke, "but everything -must have a beginning. Look at railways; they had <em>their</em> origin in -an ordinary domestic kettle, and behold they now cover the face of -the globe; this invention has to do with air, and like that element, -is—sublime! I have made an exhaustive study of air currents; there are -certain places where there is a continual brisk movement in various -directions! these will be the termini, the junctions of departure, - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 316]</span> - -the same as Waterloo or Euston—but again let me not take you out of -your intellectual depth.—See how easily the apparatus works," he -exclaimed, pulling a small cord; and it became evident, that he could -extend or compress, his huge appendages at will. Now they towered above -his head—now they spread out—and now they collapsed, with marvellous -facility.</p> - -<p>"Night is the only time, in which I can as yet venture abroad," he -said regretfully, "and there is something unsympathetic in the chill -atmosphere after dusk, that is discouraging to aerial attempts. Would -that I could go forth in full daylight, and spread out my pinions to -the sun!"</p> - -<p>"If you came into the garden, when Andy was at his dinner, you might -manage it easily, papa.—We will keep guard at the gate," said Katie, -the ever practical.</p> - -<p>"I'll—see—about it—yes, yes, it may be done! And you, Dido, my -daughter, shall now have your heart's desire. These will bring you -riches—money—money in millions. Do not deny, Dido, that money is your -idol; you worship money," he added, gazing at her austerely.</p> - -<p>"I, papa!" she cried. "Oh, no!"</p> - -<p>"Then why do you annoy me with your prayers and tears, craving money, -money, money? What is money? A few miserable pounds of yellow ore; and -they tell me that it makes a man happy! Miserable, miserable, wretch!" -he exclaimed with angry scorn.</p> - -<p>"But, indeed, papa——"</p> - -<p>"There, that is sufficient!" he shouted, with a fiery flash of his -black eyes.</p> - -<p>"Niece Helen," turning to her, after a somewhat awkward interval, and -surveying her critically, "you will doubtless make a graceful aerial -figure. Let me assure you that a happy day is coming, when you may wing -your way back to tropical lands, and migrate at pleasure, like the -swallows, and the wild geese."</p> - -<p>Here he paused, and flapped his pinions so successfully, that both -candles were instantly extinguished, and the company were left in outer -darkness. Dead silence ensued, which lasted about a minute.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 317]</span></p> - -<p>"Dido, you know your way," said her father at length in his ordinary -tone, "never mind the lights, the matches are below.—Go; I will no -longer detain you, my children. I have some important details to -accomplish that will occupy me for hours. Go—good-night, good-night."</p> - -<p>Thus imperiously dismissed by this voice from the gloom, the three -girls groped their way slowly, and carefully, downstairs, and finally -into the hall, where, sitting down on the first seats they could find, -they sat and stared at one another, in solemn silence. Of course Katie -was the first to speak.</p> - -<p>"I wonder if this will come to anything?" she exclaimed. "It's very -wonderful,—but then the Padré always thinks of things that never occur -to other people!"</p> - -<p>"It does seem to be a marvellous discovery," said Dido, in anything but -a triumphant key. Was it the light, or what, that made her face look -quite anxious and careworn? "Of course we won't mention what we have -seen to a soul! eh, Helen?" glancing nervously at her cousin.</p> - -<p>Helen nodded her head in impressive assent, but made no audible answer. -Down among commonplace surroundings, and away from the spell of that -imposing winged figure, with its sonorous quotations from Bacon and -Wilkin—cold distrust came whispering into her ear. Could it be -possible that she had discerned the mysterious reason, that held Dido -to her duty? Could it be possible, that her uncle Malachi was <em>mad</em>?</p> - -<hr class="r15" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXXVII">CHAPTER XXXVII.<br /><br /> -<span class="small">"IN CONFIDENCE."</span></h2> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container40-5"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="blockquot"> -<div class="verse first-line">"No hinge, nor loop,</div> -<div class="verse indent8">To hang a doubt on."</div> - </div> - </div> - </div> -</div> -<div class="sig-left60"><span style="margin-left: 1em;"><cite>Othello.</cite></span></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">This</span> is Dido Sheridan's birthday.—She is twenty-four years old to-day. -Her cousin Helen's offering is to take the shape of this hat, which -she is engaged in trimming with somewhat anxious feelings. This straw - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 318]</span> - -hat, a bunch of daisies, and a few yards of cream-coloured lace, have -swallowed up her very <em>last</em> shilling, and there she sits, pinning, and -twisting, and unpinning and untwisting, in the greatest perplexity. Her -thoughts are running upon charming constructions, that she had seen in -milliners' windows in Bond Street, that looked so simple and yet were -so effective (and so expensive). How were they put together? Certainly -<em>not</em> by amateur fingers, my dear young lady! After a long struggle, -sheer perseverance was rewarded by a result that would pass admirably -in Terryscreen, if not in Tyburnia. "Yes, it really looks very nice," -she said to herself aloud as she held it up critically. Then, of -course, she went over to the glass and tried it on! The next thing was -to see how it suited Dido? so she walked to the door, and called "Dido" -in her clearest treble.</p> - -<p>"She's out in the garden, miss," returned a voice from the dining-room, -"with a parcel of hucksters from Terryscreen; they are after the apples -and onions."</p> - -<p>Helen reached her hat from its peg, and ran down the steps, and in -another moment was at the garden gate. There, in the middle walk, -beside the sun-dial, stood Dido, rake in hand, sun-bonnet on head, -solemnly bargaining with two weather-beaten women, whilst Darby Chute -sat on the side of a wheel-barrow, and listened, and looked on, with a -cunning and diverted countenance. Properly speaking, this selling of -fruit and vegetables "all standing" was Andy's legitimate business; -but, unfortunately, Andy was not to be trusted with finance! He had -been known to ask half-a-crown for a head of cabbage, and to sell a -whole plot of cauliflowers for three half-pence!</p> - -<p>"You are very stiff to-day, Miss Dido," expostulated one of her -customers. "Shure, I bought all Mr. Reid's apples at a shillin' a -hundred, and you are talking of two! I wish I was sellin' to you."</p> - -<p>"<em>Our</em> apples are the best in the country, Mrs. Carmody. You get a -penny a piece for them, I know, and I cannot let you have them for less -than what I say."</p> - -<p>"Here's your cousin Helen a-coming," wheezed Darby. "Sure she thinks -she's sharper than the whole houseful put together. Maybe she'll drive - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 319]</span> - -a bargain for ye, Miss Dido! Avick!"</p> - -<p>"Oh, indeed, the less <em>you</em> say about bargains, Darby, the better," -retorted Helen severely. "I wonder you were not ashamed to bring home -such a price for those calves!"</p> - -<p>"Shure, I can't help the prices, miss; calves is down—all stock is -down, and what does a beautiful young English lady like you know about -farming?"</p> - -<p>"Not much, indeed! but I used to go marketing in London, and I paid -thirteen pence a pound for veal; and fancy a great big calf selling for -twenty shillings! It's ridiculous!"</p> - -<p>"I met Miss Katie and Misther Barry on the road there below," said -Darby, clumsily turning the subject. "She was perched up on the back -of his horse—on his saddle—and mighty unaisy she looked; faix, and -so did the horse! All at wanst it gave a little lep, and down she came -on the top of Misther Barry. Oh, she was not a happorth the worse—she -fell into his arms! The horse tore off home, and Mr. Barry was left -raging! I laughed, till I haden't an eye in me head!"</p> - -<p>Helen looked at him indignantly, and turning to her cousin said, "Dido, -your hat is ready, come and try it on!"</p> - -<p>"Mrs. Carmody, you can take the beans and the cabbages at your own -price—I'm going in now," said Miss Sheridan, taking her cousin's arm, -and so departing.</p> - -<p>"Mrs. Mooney and Mrs. Carmody expect to get the things for nothing. I -don't know which of them is the greatest skinflint! And Darby just sat -there grinning, and never helped me a bit. He was worse than useless!"</p> - -<p>"Never mind Darby, but come into the drawing-room and put on your hat; -you can see yourself beautifully in the glass over the chimney-piece!"</p> - -<p>"It looks lovely,"—taking it up admiringly. "Yes,"—advancing to the -mirror—"and it suits me too! What do <em>you</em> think?"</p> - -<p>Helen ascended to the fender-stool, so as to have a good view, and to -be enabled to give her cousin the benefit of her candid opinion.</p> - -<p>"I had no idea you were so clever, with your fingers," continued Dido; - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 320]</span> - -"I won't know myself in a new hat. This will come in nicely for Mr. -Redmond's tennis party next week. I should not be a bit surprised if we -meet <em>my nephew</em> there!" and she laughed merrily.</p> - -<p>Of course all this time she was contemplating herself in the glass—and -lifting her eyes to her cousin's reflection, to her astonishment she -noticed that she coloured to the roots of her hair! With a sudden flash -of comprehension she wheeled right about and looked at her curiously! -but Helen moved hastily away, and walking towards the window said,—</p> - -<p>"Those daisies are too much at one side, they must come out."</p> - -<p>"Never mind the daisies, Helen! I'm going to be very impertinent—I'm -going to be as bad as Barry. I'm going to guess something about <em>you</em>."</p> - -<p>"Guess what?" sitting down in the window seat, and turning as if at bay.</p> - -<p>"Guess something about 'my nephew.' Why did you blush just now, and why -is he the only person you met at Port Blair, whom you never mention? -Well, well," in answer to the expression of her cousin's face, "I see -you don't like it, so I won't say any more. If you don't wish to give -me your confidence I won't try to steal it."</p> - -<p>After a moment's hesitation she added, with averted face,—</p> - -<p>"I suppose Katie has told you all about <em>me</em>?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, poor Dido! it was a hard, hard case," replied Helen, gently -taking her hand.</p> - -<p>Dido sighed, and nodded her head, and then remarked, in quite a -cheerful voice, "I try not to think of it—it could not be helped."</p> - -<p>An unusually long silence succeeded this speech, and at last Helen -said, "What I am going to tell you, Dido, I have never spoken of -before, not even to papa. I have never put my—my—experience—into -words—yet. I wonder very much how it will sound, both to you, and me. -No! You must not gaze at me like that, or I shall never be able to tell -it. Look out of the window and listen. Dido," lowering her voice to a -whisper, "you were right about Mr. Lisle."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 321]</span></p> - -<p>"Yes," nodding her head with quick assent.</p> - -<p>"You know everything about my life out there, all excepting—<em>that</em>. -He was at the Andamans when I arrived, but I did not meet him for a -month or more. He lived far away on the mainland—he did not go into -society; and because he was silent and shabby, people thought he was -an impostor, or some needy adventurer, or that he was hiding from his -creditors—if not worse—so he was a kind of social outlaw."</p> - -<p>"What! Mr. Lisle, with his thousands a year!" cried her listener in a -key of angry astonishment.</p> - -<p>"Yes; and he never undeceived any one—I suppose he was laughing in his -sleeve all the time. He told me once that he rather enjoyed living in -the Palace of Truth, and being valued for his appearance alone,—and -rated according to his wardrobe! especially his hat!"</p> - -<p>"And when did you meet him?"</p> - -<p>"We met one evening, on a kind of savage coast, where I was -accidentally deserted by a picnic party. I was nearly mad with fright, -and luckily for me, Mr. Lisle's boat was passing, and he saw me, and -took me off. On our way home we came in for an awful storm; over and -over again I thought we should have been drowned, but after the most -dreadful hour I ever spent, he landed me safely on Ross pier."</p> - -<p>"Yes!—well, that was certainly a romantic beginning. Go on."</p> - -<p>"Then he came and called. Papa liked him. Yes, and so did I. He was so -different to other people; he had a distinct personality of his own. He -had read and travelled, and kept his eyes open. He put old things in a -new light; in short, he was charming to talk to, and I was always glad -whenever he came and spoke to me,—though it was not very often. At one -time, he ventured over to the station tennis parties, and was quite -callous to Mrs. Creery's snubs and Lizzie Caggett's scowls. Then for -weeks he would disappear."</p> - -<p>"And all this while had he ever said anything?" inquired Dido with the -authority of a girl, who had had an authenticated proposal.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 322]</span></p> - -<p>"He never paid me a single compliment in his life; but I believed he -liked me."</p> - -<p>"And you liked him?"</p> - -<p>Helen made no direct answer, but continued her tale, and her cousin -accepted her silence for the proverbial consent.</p> - -<p>"At length we had a grand ball, my first and only dance. To every one's -amazement, Mr. Lisle appeared in irreproachable evening dress, and -danced nearly the whole evening."</p> - -<p>"With <em>you</em>, of course?"</p> - -<p>"No; with a married lady, a Mrs. Durand."</p> - -<p>"Well, I must say, that I think that was rather peculiar."</p> - -<p>"Oh! but I found out afterwards that they had known each other as -children, and been old playmates and friends. I confess I was angry, -and—very, well—I suppose jealous. Afterwards I danced the last -waltz with him, almost in spite of myself, and when it was over we -walked up the island in the moonlight. Dido," suddenly raising her -eyes to her cousin's, "I shall never forget that night if I live to -be a hundred! The look of the sea, the stillness, the fire-flies, and -the moon, bright as day, casting sharp shadows of palms, and cactus -plants, across our path. I shut my eyes, and I can see it <em>now</em>. Then -we talked. He told me that he was going away the next day—a trip to -the Nicobars. He also told me that he understood that I was going to -be married to Mr. Quentin, whom you know I detest,—and offered me his -congratulations! Of course I denied this indignantly, and he seemed -positively not inclined to believe me at first, and then—and then—he -asked me. He told me—I need not go on—Dido, <em>you</em> understand the -rest!"</p> - -<p>"And am I to understand that you said 'Yes'?"</p> - -<p>"I believe so."</p> - -<p>"You had no idea who he really was all the time?"</p> - -<p>"I knew he was a gentleman, that he was well educated, and well bred; -like every one else, I thought he was poor, but that made no difference -to me."</p> - -<p>"You never dreamt that he was the Honourable Gilbert Lisle, with about -twelve thousand a year?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 323]</span></p> - -<p>"Never! He was commencing to tell me something, when Mrs. Creery -swooped down upon us, and carried me off."</p> - -<p>"Hateful old woman! And afterwards?"</p> - -<p>"We never had an opportunity of speaking till the very last moment. He -followed me towards our bungalow, and said he would come over and see -papa early the next morning, before he sailed if possible. If not to -look for him in six weeks time,—and to be sure not to forget him."</p> - -<p>"Well?" ejaculated her listener breathlessly.</p> - -<p>"That was nearly two years ago.—I have never seen him since."</p> - -<p>"What?" cried Dido, jumping to her feet, and tossing her new hat -passionately down on the sofa. "And you believe that <em>that</em> man was -Gilbert Lisle. He was nothing of the kind! Mrs. Creery and Miss Caggett -were perfectly right. He was an impostor. He and the real Mr. Lisle are -as different as night from day!"</p> - -<p>"But Mr. Lisle was in the Andamans at that time. Mrs. Durand, who was -a great friend of mine, could not be mistaken—it was she, who really -told us who he was, one night at the General's. He was travelling about -in search of amusement. I was a school-girl, and an easy prey—and all -the time he was engaged to Miss Calderwood."</p> - -<p>"He was not, and he is not," retorted Dido, decidedly. "That is only -old Mr. Redmond's pet project—and Katie has got some silly idea into -her head because she saw them riding together once or twice; for that -matter, so did I! She looked as cross as two sticks, and he looked -bored to death; she told me once, in a burst of confidence, you know -her style of being one's bosom friend one day and cutting you dead the -next?"</p> - -<p>"No, I don't" (shortly), "Miss Calderwood and I never coalesced."</p> - -<p>"Well, she imparted to me that Mr. Lisle had a hateful temper and -unsufferable manners, but that one could not expect everything! I said -to myself, if <em>you</em> expect to be Mrs. Lisle, you will find yourself -excessively mistaken. Mind you, <em>I</em> am speaking of Mr. Redmond's -nephew."</p> - -<p>"So am I."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 324]</span></p> - -<p>"It is incredible that it should be him. Could there have been any -misunderstanding? Did you flirt with any one when he was away?"</p> - -<p>"I flirt? I never did such a thing in my life!"</p> - -<p>"Excepting with poor old Mr. Redmond; his infatuation is really -pitiable," interrupted her cousin with a laugh. "Well, Helen, believe -me, Gilbert Lisle never voluntarily broke his word to man or woman. -There is something in the background that will be explained <em>yet</em>. I -have a presentiment about it, and my presentiments are infallible."</p> - -<p>"Do you ever have them about yourself?"</p> - -<p>"No; excepting that I shall live and die an old maid; of course, there -ought to be one in every family."</p> - -<p>"Yes, and I reserve that post for Helen Denis! Now, never mind my -humiliating experience, please tell me something more about Mr. -Halliday?"</p> - -<p>"I fancy Katie has left me but little to tell! I met him at Portrush, -and there was nothing romantic about <em>our</em> first meeting; no rescue -from a jungle; no hairbreadth escape—he was simply taking tea at the -Reids, in the most hum-drum fashion. We used to go for expeditions -along the coast, and sit upon the rocks by the sea, and watch the -waves, or the moon, and talk—<em>you</em> understand the rest!" (smiling -significantly). "And one night, as we were walking home, he asked me to -marry him—oh, Helen, I was so surprised, and so happy! but it did not -last long—"</p> - -<p>"Do you ever hear of him now?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, occasionally, through the Reids; but it is all over.—We shall -never meet again."</p> - -<p>"Well, at least you have the consolation of knowing that he loved you, -and wished to make you his wife; there is some poor satisfaction in -<em>that</em>, whilst I," and here she broke down, and buried her face in her -hands. But this emotion was merely momentary; presently she lifted her -face to her cousin, and said, "So you see that I have had a lesson for -life; I shall never, never marry."</p> - -<p>"Neither will I," returned Dido, with much emphasis.</p> - -<p>In the midst of their interesting confidences, and mutual assurances of -celibacy, the door opened, and Biddy's befrilled face was thrust in, - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 325]</span> - -recalling them sharply from romance to reality.</p> - -<p>"Miss Dido, will ye come out, av ye plase! Mrs. Carmody says she'll go -to two shillin' a hundred for them apples, and the onions sixpence a -stone!"</p> - -<hr class="r15" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXXVIII">CHAPTER XXXVIII.<br /><br /> -<span class="small">"SALLY'S SUBSTITUTE."</span></h2> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container40"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="blockquot"> -<div class="verse indent17-5">"I stood</div> -<div class="verse">Among them, but not of them."</div> - </div> - </div> - </div> -</div> -<div class="sig-left60"><span style="margin-left: 1em;"><cite>Childe Harold.</cite></span></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">In</span> a large flagged room on the basement story, Helen, Katie, and old -Biddy, were seated round a well-scoured table, making busy preparations -for the despatch of a creditable "cart" to Terryscreen Market; neat -bunches of salads, bouquets of flowers, and bundles of asparagus, -testify to their industry. As far as the young ladies are concerned, -their labours have been lightened by the interchange of riddles, -chiefly very poor ones, and the worse they were, the more they laughed, -and the more Biddy sniggered.</p> - -<p>"I give up that one, as to what makes more noise than a pig under a -gate!" said Helen, holding an exquisite bouquet of roses towards her -cousin. "There is no answer. The pig could not be beaten."</p> - -<p>"I wish I had some more twine," she added, looking anxiously around.</p> - -<p>"I wish you had, my dear," returned Katie, "but I can do nothing <em>but</em> -wish! My hands are full. There is some in the cup on the chimney-piece -in the office. No, that's <em>gum</em>; it's in Dido's desk."</p> - -<p>The office was a little den behind the dining-room, consecrated to -business, and the communings of Dido and Darby. The latter was in the -act of leaving it, when Helen appeared; his face looked more foxy than -usual, and there was a sly smile in his eyes as he said,—</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 326]</span></p> - -<p>"And what way are ye the day, Miss Denis?"</p> - -<p>"Busy, Darby, terribly busy; I have half the asparagus to tie up yet, -and not a plum picked."</p> - -<p>"Shure 'tis nothing but divarshion for the like of yees," he rejoined -contemptuously. "An I would not grudge to see you young ladies so -entirely fond of flowers and gardening—'Tis a nice quiet taste."</p> - -<p>"Divarshion, indeed? There's little divarshion in picking gallons of -fruit in the blazing sun—and as to the wasps! but I'm in a hurry, -Darby, I have not a moment to spare. Please let me pass," she said, now -walking into the little office, where she discovered Dido seated at her -brass-bound bureau, surrounded by papers, and dissolved in tears.</p> - -<p>"What on earth is the matter?" she inquired, laying her hand on her -cousin's shoulder.</p> - -<p>"Nothing—nothing at all," hurriedly drying her eyes, and averting her -face.</p> - -<p>"Come, Dido, I am certain that you are the last girl to cry for -nothing. What is it? Won't you tell me? Two heads are better than one. -Is it these accounts?"</p> - -<p>"It is just this, Helen," wheeling round with sudden energy, "I've come -to the conclusion that it is hopeless to go on struggling any longer, -and trying to make both ends meet; I strive, and strive, to keep out -of debt—we spend next to nothing on ourselves, as you know, and when -I think I am getting my head above water at last, down comes something -and pushes me under, such as a big bill that I never expected, and -that nearly breaks my heart. Look at this," holding out a rather dirty -scrawl, "here is one now, and Darby says it must be paid at once. And I -did not even know it was owing. It's for seed-potatoes, and guano, and -wire to keep out the rabbits—altogether eleven pounds," she concluded -with a little sob.</p> - -<p>"Eleven pounds!" ejaculated her cousin, taking it up and examining it.</p> - -<p>"I notice that it is made out by Darby—does not that strike you as -rather peculiar?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, no; he always does it," returned Dido, (the unsuspicious,) pulling -out a little drawer as she spoke.</p> - -<p>"See! I have only three shillings, till after to-morrow, and these - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 327]</span> - -Murphys declare they can't wait any longer than Monday—they are -pressed themselves, and Darby says they <em>must</em> be paid. To hear him -talk, one would think I had only to go out and pick up sovereigns on -the gravel!"</p> - -<p>"Then let uncle pay," said Helen sternly, "it's not more than the price -of one of his old books. I do think, Dido, that it is rather hard that -you should have to work for the support of the whole family, and that -all the income from the place goes, I may say, on <em>air</em>! Barry told me -that, even as it is, it brings in a thousand a year."</p> - -<p>Dido made no immediate answer, but sat resting her chin on her hand, -and gazing fixedly out of the window. At length she seemed to have come -to some settled decision, for she rose and said, "I think I will try -the Padré once more; it's rather a forlorn hope, but nothing venture, -nothing have. Wait here till I come back, Helen," and with a melancholy -little nod she quitted the room.</p> - -<p>Helen sat down in her cousin's chair in front of the old bureau, -with its inky baize desk, and numerous musty drawers; and noted with -feelings of hot indignation, the traces of Dido's tears—tears that -had splashed unchecked upon the leaves of an open account-book. -Sitting here before these tear-stained columns, she asked herself -dispassionately if a man who had brought forth nothing but second-hand -inventions, after forty years of costly experiments, was likely to -revolutionize the universe at last?</p> - -<p>No, she had no patience with his concentrated selfishness, and <em>no</em> -faith in the apparatus. As to Darby Chute, she had never trusted him, -and although she had no solid grounds for her suspicions, yet she could -not divest herself of the idea, that he was a rascal! She was aware -that Darby did not eye <em>her</em> with any favour, and indeed he had more -than once made craftily-veiled inquiries as to <em>when</em> she was going -away?</p> - -<p>"It was no use," said Dido, entering the room, and shaking her -head hopelessly. "I knew it. He just held up empty hands. That is -his invariable answer when I beg for a little money. It will just -have to be, as Darby says," sitting down, and looking at her cousin -despondently, "we must sell the white cow."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 328]</span></p> - -<p>"Not the one I call <em>my</em> cow; not Daisy?" cried Helen in consternation.</p> - -<p>"Yes; she is the best of them all. She will fetch the most money. Darby -thinks we might get twenty pounds for her at the fair to-morrow. There -is no use in putting off the evil day, and I hate to owe a penny. I -cannot sleep if I am in debt."</p> - -<p>"You should see what some girls owe, and how they sleep," said her -cousin, thinking of the Miss Platts, and how very lightly their -milliner's accounts lay on their minds. "Is there no resource but -Daisy? Can you suggest nothing else?"</p> - -<p>"Nothing, unless—" and she hesitated and coloured—"unless I borrowed -the money from you, and I would not do that, for I might never be able -to pay you. No; there is nothing for it but Daisy!"</p> - -<p>"My dearest Dido," said Helen, putting her arm round her neck, "what a -horribly mean wretch you must think me all this time. Don't you <em>know</em> -very well, that every farthing I possess, would have been in the common -purse months ago, only—only—uncle borrowed all my money the day after -I came here."</p> - -<p>"What do you say?" cried Dido, jumping to her feet. "Oh, no, Helen; oh, -<em>surely</em> he did not! Oh!" in great distress, and her eyes filling with -tears. "This is worse than all! This is <em>too</em> bad. Oh, my dear, foolish -child, why did you let him know you had a farthing?"</p> - -<p>"He asked me, and what could I say?"</p> - -<p>"He has such odd ideas about money. He looks upon it as a kind of -common property, and he has all kinds of queer, wild schemes about -abolishing it altogether.—Was it much?" she asked anxiously.</p> - -<p>"Never mind, Dido, how much. The loss is yours, dear; not mine. It -would have been in your hands long ago, only for this."</p> - -<p>"Helen," said her cousin, looking very pale, "I can speak to you, as I -can to no one else—not even Katie. Papa is not like other people!"</p> - -<p>"No," assented his niece with a very serious face.</p> - -<p>"He was always eccentric; but latterly he has been getting more so. - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 329]</span> - -Sometimes," lowering her voice, and glancing nervously at the door, "he -is——"</p> - -<p>"Yes; I think I understand," nodding her head gravely.</p> - -<p>"Biddy guesses it; so does Barry. Katie suspects nothing, poor child. -I've kept this to myself ever since I've known it," leaning her face on -her hand, and covering her eyes.</p> - -<p>"And that was the reason that you would not listen to Mr. Halliday?"</p> - -<p>"Yes;—mamma dreaded it, and not long before she died she—told me—and -she made me solemnly promise, to guard him as closely as possible, to -keep him near me as long as he had the faintest chance," her voice -dying away to a whisper.</p> - -<p>Helen took her cousin's hand in hers, and her face was full of sympathy.</p> - -<p>"He was only a little strange at times," continued Dido, "especially -about money. But during the last year I have seen it coming, and this -is one reason I've always resisted having Barry to live here, and -taking over the place; this is the reason that I struggle with all my -might to keep him and the Padré apart, for if he and Barry were to meet -constantly, Barry would <em>know</em>, and Barry would immediately insist upon -what is only to be the last resource. I promised mamma," here Dido -broke down, and leaning her head against her cousin's shoulder, wept -miserably.</p> - -<p>"My poor Dido!" said Helen, smoothing her hair tenderly. "What a burden -you have had to bear all alone, and how noble, and unselfish, and -patient you have been. When I think of you, and think of myself, I am -bitterly ashamed! I have been latterly entirely wrapped up in myself, -and my own affairs, I never seem to give a thought to other people, -and you—you have renounced your own happiness for the benefit of -others——"</p> - -<p>"I am not unhappy," interrupted Dido, drying her eyes; "or, at any -rate, I would not be, if he was getting better; but he is getting -<em>worse</em>, much worse—I see it coming nearer and nearer!" and she looked -up at her companion with pallid lips and startled eyes. "For days, when -you do not see him, he is sitting still in the workshop, and never opens - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 330]</span> - -his lips. I carry him up his meals, and he takes no notice. -Other times he has delusions. Not long ago, when I went up to speak -to him, I found him pacing up and down the room, shouting into a long -tube; he would not answer when I spoke, but at last he went and wrote -on a bit of paper, '<em>Leave me, mortal, I am the trumpet of Fame!</em>'</p> - -<p>"See," searching in her bureau, "here it is! I brought it away -unintentionally, and then I hid it here, I don't know why."</p> - -<p>Helen gazed at this proof of her uncle's mental aberration with -startled eyes, and then she said quietly,—</p> - -<p>"I think the time has arrived when something ought to be done. Uncle -should have an experienced person to look after him, and surely <em>you</em> -might manage the money."</p> - -<p>"Yes! Barry must know at last, and Katie, and every one," said Dido, -tearing up the scrap of paper with a sigh; "but to-day he is as sane -as I am, and as busy as possible over the apparatus, he may not have -another attack for a long time. Let us put it out of our heads. Don't -think of it, we will talk of something else. I must send word to Darby -this evening about Daisy; twenty pounds is the least——"</p> - -<p>"Dido, Dido!" cried her sister, bursting into the room, "come down -this moment; Sally has fallen over the step in the dairy and sprained -her ankle, she is lying groaning on the settle in the kitchen, and she -won't be able to stir to-morrow?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, of course!" exclaimed Dido, starting up. "Do misfortunes ever come -alone?"</p> - -<p>Half an hour later, the three girls were standing together looking -blankly at their preparation for the morrow's market. There lay golden -butter, cream-cheeses, pounds of honey, bouquets of flowers, and last, -but not least, their precious stock of grapes—grapes nursed through -the winter, in a windy old vinery, with a tenderness they had but ill -repaid.</p> - -<p>"Is Sally's ankle very painful?" inquired Helen after a long pause.</p> - -<p>"Yes; I've bathed it with arnica, but she won't be able to put her foot -to the ground for a week."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 331]</span></p> - -<p>"Could Andy go?"</p> - -<p>"Andy, my dear girl, wouldn't set foot in Terryscreen to save his life; -he was in jail there! It's just our luck, the best cart of the season! -I'd take it myself, only I would be known. There would be no real -disgrace in doing it—it's ten times more shameful to owe money."</p> - -<p>"There's nothing for it but to put away what will keep, and to use the -rest ourselves," said Katie, the ever practical.</p> - -<p>After a moment's silence, Helen said suddenly, "Look here, Dido, why -should not <em>I</em> take the cart?"</p> - -<p>"You!" shrieked her cousin. "Are you mad?"</p> - -<p>"Now, just please to listen quietly, both of you," she returned with -decision.</p> - -<p>"In the first place, I'm a stranger to all but the Reids and -Redmonds—that's one point," reckoning on her fingers. "In the second, -I can get myself up in character so that you would never know me. -Thirdly, I flatter myself that my brogue is undeniable. Fourthly, I've -plenty of confidence. Fifthly, I mean to go."</p> - -<p>"Helen, you are not serious?" said Dido, gravely.</p> - -<p>"Never more so, my dear.—I know the market prices as well as -yourselves. I shall dress myself up in an old garden frock and -sun-bonnet, and you will see if I don't pass off as a good-looking -slip of a country girl. You know very well you can't tell my brogue -from Sally's in the dark, so I will be your market woman, ladies, and -come home to-morrow with my pocket full of money, 'an ye may make your -minds quite aisy about me,'" suddenly adopting a brogue and dropping -a curtsey. "No one will know a hate about it, barrin' the Masther and -meeself."</p> - -<p>At this her cousins burst out laughing, and finding that she was so -sanguine, and so resolute, and that all their expostulations were -uttered to deaf ears, they submitted to the scheme without further -demur. Of course Sally was taken into the secret, and when the subject -was very gently broken to her by her smiling, would-be deputy, at -first she held up her hands dramatically, and invoked both the local -and her own patron saints; but in the end she came round. Her thrifty -soul revolted against the wanton waste of all her beautiful cheese - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 332]</span> - -and butter, and presently she was instructing Helen (who sat beside -the settle, gravely attentive), with immense animation, and impressive -authority.</p> - -<p>"You'll find the Masther very tough to drive, miss, but he knows every -stone of the road, and is acquainted with all the shops, so ye may just -lave it to himself; there does be no use in prodding him, or striving -to drive him, for his mouth is as hard as the heart of Pharaoh,—and he -is that detarmined in his own way, that nations would not hould him! -First and foremost, ye go to Clancy's with the butter and the eggs, an' -you'll not take less than a shilling a pound, dear, and sevenpence the -dozen. She'll bate you down, seeing you are strange, and it's not Sally -MacGravy she has to dale with! but just you say, 'Divil a copper less -you'll take,' and let on you are going to Dooley's across the street. -Afther that I'm thinking you will never be able to stand forenint the -fruit and vegetables in the square, so ye might go over to Dooley's -in <em>earnest</em> and offer him the vegetables and fruit chape; that's in -raison, do ye mind. Then there's the grapes and flowers, I don't know -what to say about them at all! They must just take their chance; it's -the butter that's lying so heavy on me! With regard to the cowcumbers, -and honey, and cream-cheeses, a messman does be in from barracks, a -fellow with an eye like a needle in his head, and the deuce for bating -you down. Then, wance in a way, ye have the officers' ladies; them's -the wans for the flowers, and you'll mind to charge them double, -darlin'! that's about all," concluded Sally, coming to the end of her -instructions, and her breath, simultaneously.</p> - -<p>Next morning, at grey dawn, Helen was astir and dressed; her cousins, -who had hardly been able to sleep a wink with excitement, attended -her at her early breakfast, poured out her tea, buttered her toast, -and surveyed her appearance with subdued giggles and expressions of -astonished delight. They assured her repeatedly that they would pass -her on the road and never recognize her. She was arrayed in a clean -but faded cotton, turned up over a striped dark petticoat, a pink -sun-bonnet, a white apron, and a little checked shawl. Certainly -she was not quite as <em>like</em> sally as her relations could have - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 333]</span> - -wished—which, considering that Sally was bordering on forty, and -weighed fourteen stone, was not surprising—but they both emphatically -declared that she would readily pass for what she professed to be—"a -good-looking slip of a country girl who had taken Sally's place."</p> - -<p>"Too good-looking, Helen, dear," said Dido, kissing her as she mounted -the cart. "Keep your bonnet pulled well over your eyes, and try and do -not show your teeth when you laugh; and above all stick to the brogue!"</p> - -<p>These were Dido's final injunctions; and she escorted the cart half-way -down the avenue, and then took off her shoe, and threw it after it for -luck. The last glimpse Helen caught of her favourite cousin, she was -hopping along the damp drive, in quest of the said slipper.</p> - -<p>The Master was not to be hurried. Two hours for the five miles was his -<em>own</em> time, lounging along in a leisurely way, in a series of zig-zags -from ditch to ditch.</p> - -<p>It was a lovely August morning; the dew lay heavy on the grass, and -silvery, gossamer cobwebs hung about the hedges. Helen felt her pulses -beating with excitement entirely untouched by fear. A bold adventurous -spirit possessed her; there was something so utterly novel, so -deliciously strange, in her present undertaking; as if she had left -Helen Denis behind, and had embodied herself in a new identity!</p> - -<p>Presently the Master was overtaken and passed by various carts, and -even by pedestrians—who had each, and all, a word for Sally. But this -was not Sally! this was a black stranger, who was not disposed to waste -her time in idle badinage, and who took no more notice of them than the -stick in her hand, and seemed an "impident, stuck-up piece!" However, -it was the Crowmore mule; there was no mistake about <em>him</em>—once -seen—never forgotten!</p> - -<p>"Mind that mule," cried one, "or he'll break everything that's on him, -and run away with you!"</p> - -<p>"Faix, and no loss if he does!" retorted another.</p> - -<p>"Musha, an' will ye look at the nate foot and ankle we have, hanging so -aisy and so careless over the side of the shaft! 'Tis a lady we are, -all out! Do ye mind the gloves on her!"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 334]</span></p> - -<p>"Bedad, an' if she is, she looks mighty at home on an ass's car," -shouted a fourth.</p> - -<p>The subject of these and other delicate witticisms, was not sorry -to find herself jogging over the cobble stones of the High Street -of Terryscreen. Greatly to her astonishment, the Master, of his own -accord, rose a beautiful trot for the town, and rattled up in gallant -style to Clancy's, the butter shop. His new driver's heart beat -unusually fast as she alighted, made the reins secure, and taking a -heavy basket on her arm, proceeded to air her brogue in real earnest.</p> - -<p>Early as it was, the place was crowded, and she had some difficulty in -edging her way to the counter, where she was at once confronted by a -big, stout woman, with a merry face, and her hands on her hips, who, -staring at her hard, said,—</p> - -<p>"An' where is Sally the day?"</p> - -<p>"She's hurt her foot," replied her substitute, in a voice that was -scarcely above a whisper.</p> - -<p>"And so you are doing her work?"</p> - -<p>"Just for the time, Mrs. Clancy."</p> - -<p>"From this part of the country, dear?"</p> - -<p>"No; a good bit beyant."</p> - -<p>"Oh, well,"—tasting the butter with her finger and glancing at her -sharply—"butter is down, ye know. Elevenpence."</p> - -<p>"Is it?" innocently. "I am not to go home with less than the shilling."</p> - -<p>"Is that the way with you? Well, we'll say elevenpence halfpenny, -honey!"</p> - -<p>"No, Mrs. Clancy, mam, I really <em>dar</em> not do it!"</p> - -<p>"Well, I see she has ye well schooled, and I suppose you'll just have -to get it! Eighteen pounds did ye say?" now going towards the till—but -being waylaid by a customer, Helen was left to wait among the crowd for -a considerable time.</p> - -<p>Far from every eye being centred on her, as she had tremblingly feared, -no one noticed her by word or glance; and her courage, which had ebbed -as she entered the shop, now came back in full tide.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 335]</span></p> - -<p>The Clancys were driving a roaring trade, if one might judge by -appearances. Their establishment was thronged by men in corduroy and -frieze, and women in long blue cloaks, or plaid shawls, all bargaining, -buying, or gossiping. She was wedged in between the counter and two -stalwart matrons, who were holding forth to one another with great -animation. And oh, how their garments did smell of turf!</p> - -<p>"And what way is Mary the day, Mrs. Daly?" inquired one.</p> - -<p>"'Deed, an' I'm thinking, she is just dying on her feet; first she had -a slight sketch of a cold, now 'tis a melancholy that ails her. John -took her up to Rafferty's funeral, thinking to cheer her out of it, but -she got a wakness standin' in the berryin'-ground, an 'tis worse she -is, instead of better."</p> - -<p>"That's bad! An' how is Dan?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, finely. Shure he has the pledge! Glory be to God!"</p> - -<p>"Musha, an' I wish Pat had! When he comes into the town here, he gits -into that much company there's no daling with him at all. Ye can't -be up to them men! I thought this morning he was getting very good -entirely, when I was in Fagan's store, and saw him and a couple of -chaps drinking coffee. Shure, wasent it that Moody and Sanky they were -at—an' wasent it half whiskey?"</p> - -<p>"Ah! now ye don't tell me that?"</p> - -<p>"An' 'deed, an' I do! I don't say as a needleful of sperrits ever did -any wan any harm—but there does be <em>some</em> would drink the Shannon!"</p> - -<p>"Purviding it was potheen," supplemented her listener, dryly.</p> - -<p>"There's your change, Alannah," called out Mrs. Clancy across the -counter, "and mind ye, it will be elevenpence next week."</p> - -<p>Helen smiled agreeably, nodded her head, and pocketed the silver. Sally -would surely be able to do battle for herself by the following market -day! After a considerable struggle she made her way out of the crowd, -and once more ascended the market-cart. So far so good—the butter and -eggs were off her mind—now for Dooley's, and the vegetables. But, - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 336]</span> - -unluckily, the Master—who was, as we know, an animal of great strength -of character—had determined to trot off to his usual station, near -the Courthouse. Of course Helen could please herself about Dooley's, -but he and the cart went to their accustomed post. The habits of years -were not to be thus trifled with! This clause had not been in the bond. -Helen had meant to have got rid of the fruit and vegetables (even at -a sacrifice) and to have immediately afterwards set her face towards -home—but to stand and sell her wares from the cart in the open market, -was an ordeal that she had never anticipated. However, as she and the -Master came together, together they were bound to return, and her -arrangements were solely dependent on his good pleasure (a somewhat -humbling reflection). For years he had been accustomed to stand for -three hours per week in Terryscreen Market Square, just behind the -Courthouse, and to vary the programme to-day was an idea that never -once entered his grizzled head. His lady driver, who had discovered -that his mouth was all that Sally had prophesied (and more), meekly -abandoned herself to her fate, and having loosened her tyrant's bit, -and administered a "lock of hay," set to work to lay out her wares, -and arrange her stall to the best of her ability. As she gazed around -upon the crowd, and listened to the confused buzz of many brogues, her -head failed her, her boasted confidence seemed to be oozing away at -the tips of her fingers. Supposing she lost her head, supposing she -was discovered? But who was to discover her? argued common sense; and -if she had passed in Clancy's shop, surely she would pass here. She -was doing no harm, quite the reverse; and when she thought of Dido's -difficulties, and Dido's tears, and those three shillings lying in her -desk, and looked round on her fine stock of garden produce, capable of -being turned into silver coin of the realm, she recovered herself, and -by the time she had sold her first head of cabbage, her courage and -<i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">sang-froid</i> were completely restored!</p> - -<hr class="r15" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 337]</span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXXIX">CHAPTER XXXIX.<br /><br /> -<span class="small">"THE MARKET GIRL."</span></h2> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container36"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="blockquot"> -<div class="verse">"We met—'twas in a crowd."—<cite>Haynes Bayley.</cite></div> - </div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Helen</span> soon discovered that the Crowmore cart had quite an established -reputation; her peas, and beans, strawberries and asparagus commanded -a brisk sale. Customers came flocking round her, and she actually -ventured to retort to some of their sallies with mild replies in kind.</p> - -<p>"Shure, we are all fighting and killing one another to dale with you!" -said a sturdy old farmer, vigorously elbowing his way to the front. -"Aren't we for all the world like flies round a pot of honey! 'Tis -yourself has the jewels of eyes, avick! But why do ye wear gloves?"</p> - -<p>"To keep me hands like a lady's, to be sure," she retorted, promptly.</p> - -<p>"Oh! well, as long as ye don't cover up your face, I don't care a -thraneen! And what are ye asking for the white cabbage?" making an -abrupt descent from blarney to business.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Who shall depict the emotions of Larry Flood, when, lounging up to -have a little idle dalliance with his sweetheart, he found himself -confronted by the young English lady? Yes, the young English lady! She -was busily engaged in selling three cauliflowers and a bunch of parsley -to the priest's housekeeper, and seemed just as much at home at the -trade as Sally herself. She looked up and gave him a sign of warning, -and when the press of business had somewhat abated, he sidled over to -her and made the following cautious inquiry in a husky whisper,—</p> - -<p>"In the name of goodness, miss, will ye tell me if I'm in me seven -sinses?"</p> - -<p>"I believe so, Larry," she answered with a merry smile.—"Don't betray -me, for your life! Sally hurt her foot, and I offered to take her place -just for to-day. I'm getting on beautifully you see; and no one is a -bit the wiser."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 338]</span></p> - -<p>"I could not make out what was up!" exclaimed Larry, "there's been a -crowd round the cart as if it was an execution! 'Tis only now I got -next or nigh it. And signs on it! they had raison, for such a sight -as yourself has never before stood on Terryscreen Street. But I don't -like it, miss, no, not for you—you are too venturesome; and if you'll -allow me, miss, I'll try my hand at selling. I'm not for the road -till five o'clock. I'll do my best for ye, and tell as many lies as a -horse-daler, and you might just slip over into the hotel, and they'll -wait on you hand and foot."</p> - -<p>"No, thank you, Larry, though I'm very much obliged to you all the -same. That would never do—never!"</p> - -<p>"Well, I'm not aisy in me mind. It's the fair day, and supposing some -of them young Bostogues come round ye, and gives ye some of their lip?"</p> - -<p>At this disagreeable suggestion the young lady blanched visibly.</p> - -<p>"I shall go home early,—that is to say, as soon as the mule will go," -was her rather enigmatic reply.</p> - -<p>"Early or late, do you see that window over beyant?" pointing to a -ledge in a neighbouring store. "Well, I'll just take me sate there, wid -this whip, an' if I see any one offer to as much as look crooked at ye, -by me sowl! I'll bate him to a <em>jelly</em>; and that's as sure as my name -is Flood. So at any rate, miss, ye need not be anxious!" and having -made this alarming announcement, her self-elected protector stalked -away and actually established himself in the said window-sill, where -he sat sentry, with his whip in hand, and his eyes on Helen's stall, -looking daggers at her customers.</p> - -<p>The messman duly came, and purchased lavishly from the new market-girl, -and did not attempt to "bate her down," as had been predicted; on the -contrary, he paid her some very ornate compliments, and lingered so -long that Helen literally trembled lest Larry should misconstrue his -civilities.</p> - -<p>As the morning wore on, it brought some fashionable patrons, among them -several ladies, who, after turning over and sniffing every separate -bouquet, purchased half-a-dozen of the best. During her dealings - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 339]</span> - -with these Helen kept her sun-bonnet well pulled over her eyes, and -commanded her countenance to the best of her ability, whilst they -discussed her appearance in French, and declared that she was the -prettiest Irish girl they had ever seen. The fame of the beautiful -market-girl must have been noised abroad, for several young men came -crowding around the cart, and eagerly demanded "button holes." For -these she charged double prices without the slightest compunction. -(Meanwhile Larry stood in the background armed with his whip!)</p> - -<p>"A shilling!" exclaimed one of the customers, "oh, I say, come, you -must not be getting these extravagant notions into your head, Kathleen -Mavourneen, Eileen Aroon! One would think you had been in Covent -Garden! I suppose you fancy that a pretty girl may charge what she -pleases. Here's two shillings; one for the flowers, and the other for a -good look in your charming face."</p> - -<p>"'Deed," scornfully tossing back a shilling, "An' it's more than any -one will ever ask to lay out on your honour's."</p> - -<p>As the unhappy gentleman was unusually plain, his companions seemed to -experience the keenest delight at this sally, and one of them, pressing -forward, and taking up a bouquet, said,—</p> - -<p>"How much for this, my prickly wild rose?"</p> - -<p>"Two shillings, your honour."</p> - -<p>"Too dear! say eighteen-pence, Acushla ma cree."</p> - -<p>"Sure the times is bad, your honour, and we must live."</p> - -<p>"And where <em>do</em> you live, when you are at home—where do you come from?"</p> - -<p>"Where I'm going back to," she returned, carelessly jingling her silver -in her pockets.</p> - -<p>She was making a fortune; her career so far had been one unbroken -triumph, and her heart beat exultantly as she rattled her shillings -and half-crowns, and complacently surveyed her almost empty cart. -Carrying her glance a little above it, she met point-blank the eyes -of a gentleman on horseback, who was looking over the heads of her -customers. He wore his hat tilted far over his brows, and was gazing -at her with grave, concentrated scrutiny—the man was Gilbert Lisle. - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 340]</span> - -For a moment she stood as if turned to stone, then suddenly wheeling -about and kneeling down, she pretended to tie her shoe-string, but her -fingers trembled so ridiculously, that this was indeed a farce. She -felt a sense of choking panic; nevertheless, she was called upon to -exercise all her self-command, for an officious old crone, who presided -at the next stall, came over and shouted to her, saying,—</p> - -<p>"The gentleman on the horse is spaking to you, Alannah; see here!" -displaying a sovereign that had been thrown among the cabbage-leaves. -"He wants a flower."</p> - -<p>"Tell him they are all gone," she replied, still fiddling with her -shoe-string. However, it was impossible that she could carry on this -pretence much longer—and when with beating heart she at last ventured -to raise her head, he was nowhere to be seen. Was it a dream? no, for -there lay the piece of gold.</p> - -<p>"It's ould Redmond's heir," volunteered her neighbour, eyeing the money -with greedy eyes. "He's a great traveller, he has been away round by -India, where me son is. I've never known him notice the likes of <em>you</em> -before, and I know him man and boy. What ails ye? ye seem to have got a -turn—ye look so white and wake."</p> - -<p>"What would ail me? nothing at all—I'm a bit tired standing so long, -and I'll just sit down on this creel till I see me way to getting out -of the throng."</p> - -<p>"Well, you are easily bet up, I'll say that for you," muttered the -other, moving back to her own stall. "One would think ye wor a lady!"</p> - -<p>It was eleven o'clock, all Helen's stock was disposed of, but for the -present she saw no prospect of making her way through the crowd, and -was compelled to sit, and wait, and listen to the surrounding gabble, -which she did half unconsciously, for her thoughts were centred in her -last customer; from which subject two tall countrymen were the first to -attract her attention. They were standing so close to her that she made -a kind of third party in the conversation, which proved unexpectedly -interesting.</p> - -<p>"What are you doing here, Tim?" inquired one; "sure you have nothing to -sell."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 341]</span></p> - -<p>"An' it's at home I ought to be! with all me barley standing; but sure -I'm drawn for the jury, and bad luck to it."</p> - -<p>"Troth, and so am I! an' I'm due in there," jerking his thumb at the -Courthouse, "at twelve o'clock."</p> - -<p>"Me hands is that full at home, I don't know what to be at first. -However," as if it was some small satisfaction, he added, "the devil a -wan I'll bring in guilty."</p> - -<p>"Nayther will I," agreed his companion, in solemn tones. "I seen Darby -Chute in the day, with a few little bastes and a fine cow," (the name -possessed a spell for Helen, and bound her attention at once). "I met -him coming out of the bank, ere now; 'tis him has feathered his nest."</p> - -<p>"Faix, ye may well say <em>feathered</em>," retorted the other, with a loud -laugh; "he does not give the gun much time to cool!"</p> - -<p>"Begorra, it's a shame! an old mad man and a couple of girls—well, if -poor Pat Connor was to rise out of his grave, and see the way things is -going."</p> - -<p>Just as the conversation was becoming most exciting, these two tall -countrymen moved away. Not five minutes afterwards, Darby's own -well-known husky squeak fell upon Helen's ear. Little did he guess who -it was that was sitting with her back to him, in the pink sun-bonnet. -He was accompanied by a companion, and they were evidently about to -clinch some bargain.</p> - -<p>"I'm not very swate on that Scotch whiskey," said the latter, "it has -not the right sort of bite in it to plase <em>me</em>! An' now Darby, me boy, -what's the lowest you are going to say for the ould lady?"</p> - -<p>"Ould lady! Holy Saint Patrick, do ye hear him? is it the young, white, -short-horn cow, on her second calf?"</p> - -<p>"I just mane the big bony cow you are striving to stick me with, for -twenty-three pounds."</p> - -<p>Helen pricked up her ears—twenty-<em>three</em> pounds!</p> - -<p>"See here, James Casey, av I was to drop down dead this blessed minute, -I won't take a halfpenny less than the twenty pounds, and only I'm hard -pressed for money, and times is bad, I would drive her home afore me. -She'd be chape at five-and-twenty: a pedigree cow. An' ye know it! so - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 342]</span> - -ye need not be playing with me, as if I was trying to sell you an ould -Kerry Stripper. Take her or lave her, you are keeping others off, and -the fair is getting thin."</p> - -<p>After ten minutes of the fiercest chaffering, and many loud invocations -and denunciations on both sides, the bargain was closed, and to Helen's -great joy, she saw twenty dirty one-pound notes counted into Darby's -horny hand, the price of Daisy. The fair was getting "thin," as he had -said, and as the clock was striking twelve, she and her empty cart -emerged from the <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">melée</i> of pigs, sheep, and turf kishes, and waving a -friendly farewell to Larry, she proceeded homewards at a brisk trot. -Naturally, most of her thoughts were occupied by Gilbert Lisle, and -she was consumed by a burning desire to know if he had recognized her? -Had it been only amazement at a curious likeness that she had read in -that glance?—a glance that revived a spirit that she thought was laid; -it stirred—it recalled days of painful endurance, nights of tears. -"However, that is all at an end now," she assured herself, half aloud. -"Thank goodness I have lived it down."</p> - -<p>She cast one or two apologetic thoughts to Darby Chute; yes, her -conscience smote her with regard to him. Darby, after all, was an -honest, upright man! Hearing is believing, he had done as much to sell -Daisy to good advantage,—as if she had been his own property.</p> - -<hr class="r15" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XL">CHAPTER XL.<br /><br /> -<span class="small">"BARRY'S CHALLENGE."</span></h2> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container39-5"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="blockquot"> -<div class="verse">"The place is haunted."—<cite>Hood.</cite></div> - </div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">The Master's</span> trot proved to be a mere flash in the pan, and after -a mile the aged animal subsided into his normal pace,—namely, a -desultory and erratic stroll. His driver, wearied by this monotonous -crawl, alighted, and accompanied the cart on foot, walking at the -mule's head, with her sun-bonnet tilted over her face, and her -thoughts miles away—say as far as Ballyredmond. Proceeding in this - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 343]</span> - -somewhat absent fashion, it came to pass, that in turning a corner she -nearly fell into the arms of Barry Sheridan, who, taking her for what -she represented at the first glance, exclaimed, "Hullo, my Beauty, -'tis yourself;" but, "The deuce!" "The devil!" were his concluding -ejaculations, as he recognized the Crowmore mule, and something -familiar in the cut of the market-girl's pink sun-bonnet—not to -mention the face that was under it. Finding herself fairly caught, and -that escape was out of the question, Helen resolved to make a virtue of -necessity, and to brazen it out to the best of her ability.</p> - -<p>"What the mischief does this mean?" he blustered, authoritatively.</p> - -<p>"It means that Sally has hurt her foot," she returned, with complete -composure, and speaking in her natural voice, "and I have been her most -successful substitute."</p> - -<p>"Bother your long words! Do you mean to tell me you have been selling -vegetables and butter in Terryscreen?"</p> - -<p>"I do," she answered gaily.</p> - -<p>"Then, not alone old Malachi, but every mother's son in Crowmore is -mad. I'm blest if I ever saw anything to beat <em>this</em>," surveying -Helen, and her costume, and her flatteringly empty cart, with wrathful -amazement.</p> - -<p>"You need not be alarmed, no one recognized me, excepting Larry -Flood—the cat is <em>still</em> in the bag, unless you let it out."</p> - -<p>"What put it into your head to go play-acting about the country, along -with the market-cart? What did you do it for?"</p> - -<p>"Merely to make money; an article that is rather scarce at the Castle. -You hardly suppose that I did it for a joke, do you, or for pleasure?"</p> - -<p>"Well, all I can say is, that if I had anything to say to you——"</p> - -<p>"Which you have not," she interrupted quickly.</p> - -<p>"There you go, as usual—snapping the nose off my face. I was only -saying if I <em>had</em>. However, I'm glad enough to meet you in any -shape—alone."</p> - -<p>Helen glanced at him nervously, and waited to hear the sequel to this -rather significant remark.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 344]</span></p> - -<p>"You see, up at the Castle, you have Dido pinned to your elbow all day, -and I never get a word with you."</p> - -<p>"It seems to me that you get a good many, all the same."</p> - -<p>"Well, not <em>the</em> word. Look here, Helen. Of course I know that you are -only a teacher in a school, and have not a shilling to bless yourself -with, and never will have—worse luck; but you are a thundering pretty -girl, and I am very spoony on you, so here goes. Will you marry me?"</p> - -<p>"I?" she ejaculated with a gasp of incredulity.</p> - -<p>"Yes; you to be sure! Who else?" approaching his arm affectionately -to her waist. But a very sharp rap on the knuckles from the stick she -carried in her hand caused him to change his mind.</p> - -<p>"Come now, you don't mean <em>that</em>, I know?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, indeed I do! please keep to your own side of the road."</p> - -<p>"And is it to be yes? Am I not speaking to the future Mrs. Sheridan?" -he inquired with an air of jaunty confidence.</p> - -<p>"No, indeed you are not!"</p> - -<p>"Oh, I say! you are not in earnest!" in a bantering tone. "Think it -over. I'm not a bad sort of fellow. I've a snug little place. I'm old -Malachi's heir. I'm quite a catch, I can tell you—you might do worse."</p> - -<p>"Impossible!" she exclaimed scornfully.</p> - -<p>"Do you mean to tell me you are serious; do you mean me to take no in -earnest? For, mind you, I'll not ask you <em>again</em>," speaking with angry -vehemence.</p> - -<p>"I really mean no! You may consider that the honour is declined."</p> - -<p>"And pray, why did you encourage me, and pretend you were fond of me, -eh?"</p> - -<p>"You must be out of your senses to say so."</p> - -<p>"Not a bit of it! You did encourage me, flirting and arguing, and -making sharp speeches just to attract my notice and draw me on; why any -one could see it with half an eye!"</p> - -<p>At this amazing statement the little remnant of the lady's temper - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 345]</span> - -completely gave way, and halting in the road, and turning to him with -blazing eyes, she said,—</p> - -<p>"Mr. Barry Sheridan, a few plain truths shall be spoken to you for once -in your life. I would not marry you if you were a king. You are rude; -you are ignorant."</p> - -<p>"No, I'm not," he interrupted furiously.</p> - -<p>"Yes, you are," she continued inflexibly. "Only last night I heard -you pointing out the constellation of <em>O'Brien's</em> belt! and you -cannot spell two words; you are ignorant and boorish. This may be -your misfortune, not your fault; but it <em>is</em> your fault that you are -selfish and overbearing, and as vain as the frog in the fable. You -imagine, you poor blind ostrich," mixing her metaphors in the heat of -her irritation, "that any one of the girls in the county would marry -you! If you asked them, they would laugh in your face.—If you do not -believe me, you can make the experiment, that's all.—You will have -to improve very much indeed, before you may aspire to the hand of any -<em>lady</em>, however penniless." So saying, she lightly hitched herself up -on the cart, gave the mule a bang with her stick, and rattled noisily -away.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Helen's return was hailed with acclamation; her cousins, who had long -been on the look out, met her at the gate, and escorted her to the -kitchen, where she poured out her earnings and rendered a faithful -account of her dealings to Sally—Sally, who cross-examined her -sharply, and was transparently jealous of her success. Indeed, the only -poor consolation left Miss MacGravy was, that her deputy had failed -with the "sparrow-grass."</p> - -<p>"One and sixpence, miss, I tould ye, and ye took the shilling! however, -ye were clever with the cauliflowers, and on the whole, ye done well!"</p> - -<p>"I should rather think she <em>had</em> done well!" said Dido, sweeping up the -silver. "What are you going to say to them next week, Sally, when they -all come asking for the smart new girl?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, faix, it's not many will do that, they are mostly too earnest -after bargains—but if they do, I'll just tell a good one when I go -about it, and face them all down, that there was ne'er a one in it, but -myself!"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 346]</span></p> - -<p>"You won't find it easy to make them believe that," said Dido -emphatically; "that would be a <em>good</em> one with a vengeance!" taking her -cousin by the arm and leading her affectionately to the upper regions, -where a delicate little repast awaited her.</p> - -<p>Helen having given her relatives a modified account of her adventures -(in which she dwelt on Larry's ferocious guardianship, but skipped all -mention of the two most thrilling incidents of the day, <i>i.e.</i>, Gilbert -Lisle's unexpected appearance, and Barry's unwelcome proposal), was -considered to have richly earned the right to enjoy an afternoon of -pure and unalloyed idleness. The white blinds in the drawing-room were -pulled down to keep out the sun, the sashes were up to admit a little -breeze, and she lay back in a comfortable chair, watching Dido's busy -fingers at work.</p> - -<p>Presently her cousin looked up, and said, "I don't know whether it's -the colour of the blinds, or what, Helen, but you look completely done -up. I'm afraid that adventure this morning was too much for you!"</p> - -<p>"Oh, no, not the least—my arms are a little stiff from driving the -mule, that's all, <em>tough</em> is no name for him!"</p> - -<p>"Only fancy your making nearly five pounds!" laying down her work as -she spoke.</p> - -<p>"I made more than that—something which I have not shown you," putting -her hand in her pocket, and holding it out, with a sovereign in her -palm.</p> - -<p>"Gold!"</p> - -<p>"Yes. Who do you think rode up and tossed it down among the -cabbage-leaves, and asked for a flower?"</p> - -<p>"Not—<em>not</em> Mr. Lisle?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, but it was Mr. Lisle."</p> - -<p>"And you—did you faint?"</p> - -<p>"Not I. I stooped and pretended to be tying my shoe the moment after -I recognized him. Of course he may have been staring at me for five -minutes, for all I know. No doubt he thought the market-girl had a look -of his former sweetheart, and he threw her a sovereign, as a kind of -little salve to his conscience," contemptuously balancing the said coin -on her middle finger.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 347]</span></p> - -<p>For quite two minutes Dido did not answer. There was not a sound in the -room, excepting the lazy flapping of the window blind. At length she -said rather reproachfully,—</p> - -<p>"Helen, I think if I had once cared for a person, as you certainly did -for Mr. Lisle, I could not speak of him so bitterly."</p> - -<p>"I am sure you could not! But you are naturally far more amiable than -I am, and your illusions have never been shattered. The last two -years have hardened me. I seem to stand alone in the world. I have -no protector but Helen Denis. I use my natural weapon, my tongue, -rather mercilessly sharp, cutting speeches seem to slip out of my -mouth unawares, and they hurt no one half as much as they do me, -afterwards,—when I am sorry!"</p> - -<p>"I never heard you say anything sharp, until that speech about Mr. -Lisle. Now that he is in the country, how will you meet him?"</p> - -<p>"Certainly not 'in silence and tears,' like the individual in the -song; most probably with a smiling allusion to our former delightful -acquaintance."</p> - -<p>"Now, Helen, you know you won't."</p> - -<p>"No! Well then we shall probably shake hands, and say—'How do you do? -What lovely weather we are having.' That will be all."</p> - -<p>At this moment the door was thrown open with a violence that shook its -ancient hinges, and Katie, who had been absent ever since dinner-time, -burst into the room. She was breathless with excitement, her cheeks -were crimson, and there was certainly a spark of triumph in her eye.</p> - -<p>"Girls!" she gasped, "what do you think has happened? No, I'm not going -to let you guess, because I can't keep it another second—Barry has -asked me to marry him!"</p> - -<p>An awful pause ensued, and then Dido said, in a sharp voice, "And of -course you said no!"</p> - -<p>"And of course I said yes! Only imagine my having a proposal before -<em>you</em>, Helen!" darting an exultant look at her pretty, pale cousin, -who now suddenly unclasped her hands from behind her head, and sat up -erect, and looked at her with eyes wide with horrified surprise.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 348]</span></p> - -<p>Vanity is one of those curious elements in human nature which defy -every rule, and impel the victim into the most unexpected courses. -Barry had been put upon his mettle, and he was resolved to show Miss -Denis her mistake at any cost. Accordingly he offered himself to the -very first young lady he met, who happened to be her cousin, Katie, -and here, within four hours of Helen's scornful rejection of his hand, -he was engaged to a girl under the same roof as herself! The long -exciting day, the unexpected encounter with Gilbert, Barry's proposal, -and Barry's revenge, were too much for her over-wrought nerves; to the -horror of Dido, and the amazement of Katie, their cousin received the -news—and she, who had always been so <em>down</em> on Barry—in a storm of -hysterical tears!</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The next day brought the successful suitor to Crowmore to receive the -congratulations of his friends; his attitude was one of sulky triumph -as he nodded his acknowledgements of Dido's tepid felicitations, and -Biddy's brief greeting—Biddy, who had more than once imparted to the -bride elect that "she would not grudge Mr. Barry a good bating, to -take the concate out of him!" For once he obtained an interview with -his uncle, and then he sought Helen,—but at first she was nowhere to -be seen! All the afternoon she had been digging dandelion roots out of -the gravel, with a kitchen knife, a weary, exasperating performance, -and now, with an aching back, she was enjoying well-earned repose -under a beech-tree on the lawn. She had scarcely begun to realize -the delight of this exquisite August evening, scarcely turned a page -of her book, when, to her great disgust, she heard a loud "ahem," -and, looking up, beheld Barry—Barry, gazing at her with angry, -vindictive eyes! His recent penchant had been speedily replaced by -a good, sound, substantial hatred, which he was at no pains to keep -out of his countenance. Helen raised her head and looked at him, and -beheld defiance in his port, and triumph in his glance. No rebuff, no -rejection, could quench the unquenchable.</p> - -<p>"So you see you were wrong!" he sneered; "who is the ostrich now—who - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 349]</span> - -is the frog, eh? I wonder you are not above calling people names!"</p> - -<p>"Go away, and don't dare to speak to me, sir!"</p> - -<p>"But I will speak to you!" he retorted defiantly. "You see, with <em>all</em> -your fine talk, the very first girl I asked took me, and was glad of -the chance!"</p> - -<p>Helen merely lifted her eyes again and looked at him with frank disgust.</p> - -<p>"I'm going to live here; the old fellow agrees. Katie is his favourite -daughter, and any way, it is high time to take the money out of his -hands, and that there was some sane person over the property! I shall -give Darby Chute the sack," he grinned at Helen, and she read in his -eyes that she would undoubtedly "get the sack" also.</p> - -<p>"Of course you'll say nothing to them about yesterday," dropping his -tone of authority for one of querulous entreaty, as his eyes fell on -Dido and Katie, hurrying across the lawn. "You keep what I said to you -to yourself?"</p> - -<p>"Need you ask?" she returned scornfully.</p> - -<p>"Come away from under the tree, and sit upon these shawls!" cried -Katie. "That bench is so unsociable. Here," spreading it as she spoke, -"is one for you and me, Barry, and you may smoke, to keep away the -midges."</p> - -<p>"I don't want <em>your</em> leave to do that," was the gallant reply as he -flung himself heavily at the feet of his lady-love, and commenced to -blow clouds of tobacco into the air. Presently he said, "How much did -the cow fetch, Dido?"</p> - -<p>"Only sixteen pounds—I'm <em>so</em> disappointed; but Darby said he was glad -to get it, as there were no buyers of dairy stock—only shippers——"</p> - -<p>"Sixteen pounds!" echoed Helen. "Are you sure?"</p> - -<p>"As sure as any one <em>can</em> be, who has the money in their pocket. Darby -brought it up this afternoon."</p> - -<p>"Then, Dido, Darby has robbed you—robbed you shamefully! I overheard -him sell the cow yesterday, and I meant to have told you, but other -things put it out of my head; he sold her for twenty pounds—no wonder -people say he has feathered his nest!"</p> - -<p>"Oh, Helen," cried Dido, in dismay, "what is this you are telling me?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 350]</span></p> - -<p>"Just what I've been telling you for the last year, and you would not -listen to me," said Barry in a loud voice. "I always knew he robbed you -out of the face!"</p> - -<p>It does not often happen that twice within twenty-four hours, a man's -predictions are fulfilled to the letter—Barry's star was undoubtedly -in the ascendant, he literally swelled with triumph.</p> - -<p>"I saw the money counted into his hand," continued Darby's accuser; -"twenty one-pound notes, and I thought how pleased you would be, -and—he kept back four!"</p> - -<p>"I've a great mind to go down to him this very evening, and impeach him -to his face. I suppose he has been doing this all along. No <em>wonder</em> i -can't make both ends meet!"</p> - -<p>"Don't go to-night," said Katie gravely, "wait till to-morrow. I hear -John Dillon is about again—he shot the Crowmore grouse bog yesterday."</p> - -<p>"I always knew that he was nothing but a poacher. Why don't some of the -people try and catch him!" inquired Helen calmly.</p> - -<p>"But it <em>is</em> john Dillon—exactly as he was in the flesh—he has been -seen scores of times! Why, you saw him yourself, Barry, <em>you</em> have met -him?" said Katie, appealing to her lover with judicious docility.</p> - -<p>"Yes! and I would not meet him again for a million of money. Catch him, -indeed! that's a good joke! You know the man that was found last winter -drowned in a bog hole; they say he was seen struggling with a big black -figure on the brink, and that it was John Dillon put him in, and no -less!"</p> - -<p>"I don't believe in Dillon's ghost—a ghost that shoots and smokes!" -retorted Helen scornfully.</p> - -<p>"I tell you what, Miss Helen Denis, it is all very fine for you to say, -you don't believe this, and you don't believe that—talking is easy. -I'd have some respect for your opinion, if you will start off now, -alone, and walk to the black gate and back—this," glancing up to the -sky, "is just about his time."</p> - -<p>"Do leave her alone, Barry," exclaimed Dido, irritably; "why are you -two always wrangling with each other? Helen, you are not to think of -going."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 351]</span></p> - -<p>"Yes!" returned her cousin, rising, "I should like a walk. I'll go, if -it is only to prove to you and Katie, that I have more courage in my -little finger, than other people have in their whole body."</p> - -<p>"Do you mean that for me?" demanded Barry fiercely, rising on his elbow -as he spoke.</p> - -<p>"If the cap fits, wear it, by all means! You said a moment ago, that -you would not face Dillon for a million. I don't care a fig for -Dillon,—and I am going to meet him now!"</p> - -<p>More than this, she was eager to seize the excuse to have a nice long -stroll through the woods by herself, in order that she might arrange -her ideas, and meditate at leisure—for thanks to her affectionate -cousins, she rarely had a moment alone.</p> - -<p>"Do you think you will catch him, or will he catch you?" inquired Barry -rudely.</p> - -<p>To this she made no reply, and, resisting Katie's eager, almost tearful -entreaties, she snatched up a shawl, and sped away across the grass; -and, as she did so, Barry shouted after her,—</p> - -<p>"Mind you carve your name on the gate, to prove you go there <em>at all</em>!"</p> - -<hr class="r15" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XLI">CHAPTER XLI.<br /><br /> -<span class="small">"THE POACHER'S GHOST."</span></h2> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container37-5"> - <div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="blockquot"> -<div class="verse">"But I am constant as the Northern Star."</div> - </div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">It</span> was not dark, it was not even dusk, when Helen, having fought her -way through the laurustinus and syringa of the pleasure-grounds, -mounted the hill which lay between Crowmore and Ballyredmond. Here she -paused on the summit, and looked back. What a change even two days can -make in one's whole existence! Two evenings previously she had been -picking mushrooms on this very hill in her ordinary, tranquil frame -of mind; now, glancing down on the old Castle, Crowmore was to have a -new master, and she must leave its shelter! Her annual pittance would - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 352]</span> - -soon be due, and she would thus be enabled to return to her duties, -at Malvern House. Well, she had never intended to quarter herself -altogether on her cousins! With a half-stifled sigh she turned her face -towards Ballyredmond, whose gables and chimneys peeped above the trees. -And so Gilbert Lisle was under that roof—probably at dinner at that -moment, sitting opposite to Miss Calderwood! "Of <em>course</em> he is engaged -to her," she said aloud; "Dido only denied it because the wish was -father to the thought! I dare say they will be married soon; perhaps -before I leave. Well, I think I shall be able to decorate the church, -and even to accept an invitation to the wedding—if I get one!"</p> - -<p>These thoughts brought her to the notorious gate, which separated the -two estates. It led from the hill-side pasture of Crowmore straight -into the dense woods of Ballyredmond and was at present fastened by a -stout padlock. There was no sign of John Dillon; no sound to be heard, -save the cawing of rooks and the cooing of wood-pigeons; and, without a -moment's delay, Helen dived into her pocket, produced a small penknife, -and commenced to carve her initials with somewhat suspicious haste. -She was not the least afraid of ghosts; her solution of the great -"apparatus" scare had effectually banished all such fears; but it was a -silent, lonely place, where she had no desire to linger.</p> - -<p>The wood she was operating upon was hard, the penknife brittle, and -the process slow. She had only achieved the letter H, when her ears, -being quickened by an almost unconscious apprehension, caught the tread -of a footstep coming through the plantation. Nearer and nearer it -approached; now it was walking over leaves, which deadened the sound; -now it stepped upon a rotten twig, which snapped. Her heart, despite -her bravery, commenced to flutter wildly. Was this the poacher's ghost? -she would know in another second; in another second the branches were -thrust aside by a grey tweed arm, and she beheld, not John Dillon,—but -Gilbert Lisle! and she felt that the sharpest crisis of her life, was -at hand.</p> - -<p>He stopped for an instant, as though to collect himself, then came -straight up to the gate and doffed his cap. He looked grave, and - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 353]</span> - -extremely pale; and after a perceptible pause, he said,—</p> - -<p>"Miss Denis, I am very glad to meet you again."</p> - -<p>In answer to this she merely inclined her head. At this supreme moment -she could not have spoken to save her life.</p> - -<p>"I see that the pleasure is entirely on my side; and, naturally, you -believe me to be the most faithless, perfidious—"</p> - -<p>"The past is past," she interrupted in a low hurried voice. "Let -us agree to forget that we have ever met before. I was a silly -school-girl; you were a traveller—a man of the world, seeking to -enlarge your experience of places and people. You experimented on <em>me</em>. -It was rather cruel, you know, but it does not matter now. We do not -live in the age of broken hearts!"</p> - -<p>"Miss Denis!" he returned passionately, "I'd rather a man had struck -me across the mouth than be obliged to stand and listen to such -words from a woman! And the worst of it all is, that your taunts -seem well-deserved. You do not know the <em>truth</em>. Look here," hastily -producing a letter addressed to herself, "I was on my way to leave this -for you with my own hands. I did not venture to expect that you would -see me; but since I have so happily met you, will you listen to me?"</p> - -<p>"No, Mr. Lisle," she answered coldly, "I am not a school-girl <em>now</em>."</p> - -<p>"Pardon me, but you must—you shall—hear me," suddenly closing his -hand on her wrist with a vice-like grasp, and speaking with unusual -vehemence.</p> - -<p>"Of course I must hear you, if you choose to detain me against my will! -Would you keep me here by such means?" she asked, her voice trembling -with indignation.</p> - -<p>"I would! Yes, brutal as it sounds, I <em>would</em>. Every criminal has a -right to be heard; and from you, in whose eyes I appear a miserable -traitor, I claim that privilege. I will no longer suffer you to think -me a base, false-hearted cur! There," suddenly liberating her hand as -he spoke, "There, I release you, but I appeal to your sense of honour, -and justice, to give me a hearing!"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 354]</span></p> - -<p>Helen made no reply, but, as she did not move, he naturally took -silence for consent, and, without a moment's delay, began to plead his -cause in rapid, broken sentences.</p> - -<p>"Do you know, that for the last ten days I have been searching for you -everywhere, and that I have been half distracted!—At first I addressed -myself to your aunt, who curtly refused your address, and made some -sceptical remarks on my motives in seeking you; then I travelled down -to Tenby, and interviewed Mrs. Kane,—unfortunately, she had lost your -last letter, and could only remember that your post town began with a -T,—which was rather vague. Next I telegraphed out to Mrs. Holmes—who -replied with 'Malvern House.' Finally Mrs. Platt was induced to believe -that I was in <em>earnest!</em> she sent a line to Mrs. Durand; Mrs. Durand -forwarded it to me instantly. I started for Ireland within half an -hour, and here I am!"</p> - -<p>"But why?" inquired the young lady frigidly.</p> - -<p>"Simply because, until the last fortnight, I believed you to be the -wife of James Quentin! Yes, you may well look indignant and scornful; -I richly deserve such looks. You shall judge me, you alone—Here," -suddenly removing his cap, and laying his hand on the gate. "I stand -as it were at the bar before you. Be patient with me for a few -minutes; hear my defence, and then you shall say if I am guilty or not -guilty.—I leave my cause, my fate, my future life in your hands!"</p> - -<p>Helen listened to his appeal in profound silence; poignant memories, -maidenly pride, trembling expectation, struggled fiercely in her -breast. In the end her heart proved to be her suitor's most eloquent -advocate, and with a hasty gesture of assent, she motioned him to go on.</p> - -<p>"You remember that night at Port Blair, when we parted, as I hoped -but for a few hours? Well, I went home and waited up for Quentin, and -talked to him in a way that astonished him. Nevertheless, he stuck -to his point, and blustered, and stormed, and swore that you <em>were</em> -engaged to him."</p> - -<p>"And you believed him?" she exclaimed, with repressed emphasis.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 355]</span></p> - -<p>"I did not believe his words. What converted me was his facts—the fact -that he possessed the wreck ring, and placed it in my hand. That was -sufficient. I thought, when you could give <em>him</em> that,—you could not -care for <em>me</em>."</p> - -<p>"And from first to last you were Mr. Quentin's cat's-paw?"</p> - -<p>"His cat's-paw, his tool, his fool; whatever you like!" vehemently. "I -was an infatuated idiot. I mistook him for a gentleman, and measured -him by a wrong standard. He told me lies by the dozen, and when I left -the Nicobars I was under the impression that he was about to return to -Port Blair, and to marry you at once. I went to Singapore, to Japan, to -California; I rambled about the world, quite beyond reach of news from -the Andamans. Indeed, news from the Andamans I never sought—<em>that</em> -page in my life was closed. I came to London about three weeks ago, and -almost the first people I met were Quentin and his wife! After that, -Mrs. Durand cleared up the whole business.—She told me how your ring -had been stolen, and she it was, who succeeded in wringing your address -from your aunt, and that's about the whole story!"</p> - -<p>"What did Mr. Quentin mean?" inquired Helen gravely.</p> - -<p>"It's hard to say. He is a notorious lady-killer. He did not like to be -cut out. He was going away, and was utterly reckless. I believe he had -a comfortable conviction that he could commit any social enormity in -those out-of-the-way islands with the utmost impunity. He believed that -when he sailed away, he put himself beyond the reach of all reprisals. -And now, Helen, what do <em>you</em> say? If you only knew what I have felt -the last fortnight, you would think that I've been pretty well punished -for being Quentin's dupe! Am I guilty or not guilty? Can you ever -forgive me?"</p> - -<p>"Yes; I do forgive you," she replied at length, with a little catch in -her breath.</p> - -<p>"And we will go back to where we left off that evening at Port Blair," -suddenly leaning his arms on the gate, and looking at her earnestly.</p> - -<p>To this she shook her head in silence.</p> - -<p>"There is some one else?" he said, in a low voice.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 356]</span></p> - -<p>"No, there is no one else," she answered, without looking up.</p> - -<p>"Then you are really implacable; and, indeed, I cannot wonder."</p> - -<p>"I am not implacable," and she laughed a little nervous laugh; "but I -am a governess!"</p> - -<p>"And what in the world has that to do with it?"</p> - -<p>"Everything. I am not a suitable wife for a great landed proprietor -like you. You took us all in at Port Blair; but now I know who you -really are, it would never do. I am a lady, certainly—your wife can be -no more than that—but I have no money, no connections."</p> - -<p>"I don't understand you," he said, rather stiffly.</p> - -<p>"Ask your friends, ask your father, your uncle, <em>they</em> will explain it -all very forcibly."</p> - -<p>"That is a miserable excuse, and will not serve you. My father has -been goading me towards the yoke of matrimony for years. My worthy -uncle, little knowing, talked of you all lunch-time, to-day, and wished -himself a young man for your sake—not that if he were—you would -listen to him, I <em>hope</em>!"</p> - -<p>"I am not going to listen to any one."</p> - -<p>"Yes, you are, you are going to listen to ME. When I was a poor obscure -nobody at Port Blair, you accepted me as your future husband—you know -you did."</p> - -<p>"Yes; and now that I'm a poor obscure nobody at Crowmore, you wish to -return the compliment."</p> - -<p>"Helen!" he exclaimed, in a tone of sharp reproach, "you don't believe -in your heart that I set any value on my money, or my birth. I want you -to take me for myself alone, as if you were a dairy-maid, and I was a -blacksmith. Will you?" extending his hand.</p> - -<p>"But if I say yes, what will become of Miss Calderwood?" she inquired, -ignoring the proffered clasp.</p> - -<p>"Miss Calderwood is nothing to me, I am nothing to her; our estates -suit one another, that's all. You don't suppose that I care a straw for -Miss Calderwood, or she for me?" coming as close to her as the gate -would permit, and looking at her fixedly. "You know very well that I -care for no one but <em>you</em>; don't you, Helen?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 357]</span></p> - -<p>Helen raised her eyes, and looked at him—and believed him.</p> - -<p>"I'm afraid you have had a very rough time of it since we parted—both -at Port Blair, and in London?—I hate to think of it."</p> - -<p>"Yes. I was miserable at first, most miserable," her eyes filling. -"Afterwards I got on better, and I've been very happy here."</p> - -<p>"But, my dearest Helen—" (N.B. from Miss Denis to Helen, from Helen -to my dearest Helen, had been a rapid transition)—"Is not your uncle -very" mad, he was going to say, but changed it to the word "odd?"</p> - -<p>"Very, very odd; indeed, more than odd, poor man, but he was very good -to me. I am fond of my cousins, especially Dido. Katie is going to -marry her cousin Barry."</p> - -<p>"Unhappy Katie!" in a tone of profound commiseration. "Tell me, Helen, -has that ill-conditioned Orson ever dared to make love to you?"</p> - -<p>"Never mind—I detest him—in fact, it is to prove that he is a coward, -that I am here now. He defied me to come up here, and cut my name on -this gate. See, I have got as far as H."</p> - -<p>"I see! and it is hardly worth your while to add the D," he added, -significantly. "Before very long you will have another initial. And why -did Mr. Barry Sheridan defy you to cut your monogram on this gate?"</p> - -<p>"Because it is said to be haunted by Dillon's ghost! No one ventures -here after dusk."</p> - -<p>"Indeed! Do you know that I came across <em>your</em> ghost in Terryscreen -yesterday; a market girl who is your double. When I saw her I felt that -it was a good omen, that you and I would be face to face ere long."</p> - -<p>"Yes, and you were kind enough to toss her a sovereign—here it is," -now producing it; "it has been burning a hole in my pocket ever since. -Yes," in answer to his stare of incredulity, "I may as well confess to -you at once, that it was not my double that you saw, but myself. You -may well look amazed. Did I not play my part to perfection?"</p> - -<p>"Inimitably—but why?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 358]</span></p> - -<p>"We," with a backward wave of her hand, "are miserably poor! Uncle's -inventions absorb all the money. Darby, the steward, is a thief, and -Dido has nothing to look to but the garden; every week she sends a -cart to market, and it is the mainstay of the housekeeping. Sally, the -dairy-maid, was laid up—I took her place."</p> - -<p>"And when did you pick up the brogue and the blarney?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, that was the easiest part of the matter! I can take off anything."</p> - -<p>"<em>You</em> can?" rather startled.</p> - -<p>"Yes, ever since I could speak; but I never attempted it in earnest -till yesterday. Please take back your sovereign," holding it out.</p> - -<p>"What am I to do with it? Fasten it to my watch-chain as a memento of -the day my wife sold vegetables in the market square at Terryscreen?"</p> - -<p>"If I were you, I would not talk of your wife before you have one," -returned the young lady, blushing crimson. "I think you might give it -in charity."</p> - -<p>"So be it!" obediently placing it in his waistcoat pocket. "After -all, I'm glad that you and the flower-seller were identical. I always -thought you were the prettiest girl in the world and it gave me quite -an unpleasant shock to see your counterpart."</p> - -<p>(After this speech it was no longer in Helen's power to say that Mr. -Lisle had never paid her a compliment.)</p> - -<p>"And who have we here, coming down the hill with a brace of rabbits -over his shoulders, and a gun under his arm?" he asked abruptly.</p> - -<p>Helen glanced behind her, and beheld a man approaching with a black -beard and peaked cap, and shrank closer to her companion instinctively, -as she answered,—</p> - -<p>"It must be John Dillon!"</p> - -<p>And it was. The seemingly solitary white figure offered a peculiarly -tempting opportunity to the ghost, and he advanced with long and rapid -strides (not being aware of the presence of a third party, who was at -the other side of the gate and somewhat in the shade). He was within -three yards of Helen, and had already stretched out a threatening arm, -when,—</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 359]</span></p> - -<p>"Hullo, John!" in a masculine voice, caused him to pause and recoil a -step or two. "I say, you seem to have had good sport?"</p> - -<p>John glowered, backed, and would have fled, but Gilbert was too quick -for him. He vaulted over the gate, and said,—</p> - -<p>"Come here, my friend, and give an account of yourself. It's not every -day that I see a ghost! Let me have a look at you!"</p> - -<p>Very slowly and reluctantly the spectre slouched back, and stood within -a few feet of his questioner. Flight was useless; he had to deal with a -man of half his age, and thrice his activity. Moreover, his gun was not -loaded.</p> - -<p>"And so I hear that you made a capital bag on our bog on the eleventh, -John; what do you do with your game? You know you have no game licence -and are a terrible poacher; woodcock, pheasants, hares, all come handy -to you. My uncle tells me that three hundred head of his long tails -were sent away to Dublin and sold last winter, and this in spite of -watchers at night, and every precaution; you won't leave a head of game -in the county! Now, I don't mind betting a sovereign that you have a -brace of grouse in one of your pockets."</p> - -<p>Here John, who had hitherto simply stood and glowered, showed signs of -moving off, but his captor took him firmly by the arm, and leading him -out beyond the shadow of the trees, said,—</p> - -<p>"Mr. Darby Chute, if I'm not greatly mistaken! I've suspected you -for years. Just take off your cap, will you? Now your beard, if you -please?" And, sure enough, there stood Darby.</p> - -<p>For some seconds there was an eloquent silence, broken at last by Helen -who, notwithstanding her scepticism of Mr. Chute, was unprepared for -<i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">this dénouement</i>.</p> - -<p>"Oh, Darby, how COULD you?" she exclaimed with horror.</p> - -<p>"Mr. Gilbert," he stammered in a tremulous voice, "I've known ye, -man and boy, and ever since ye wor a terror with the catapult. 'Twas -I first taught you to handle ferrets, and sure you would not go and -expose me now?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 360]</span></p> - -<p>"Why should I not? You have poached this estate for the last ten years; -not modestly now and then, like your neighbours, but as systematically -as if you had leased the shooting. You must have made your fortune."</p> - -<p>"Fortune, indeed! an' how would I make a fortune?" indignantly.</p> - -<p>"Easily, Darby! what about the white cow you sold for Miss Dido -for twenty pounds, and you only gave her sixteen?" demanded Helen -authoritatively.</p> - -<p>"Arrah! what are you talking about, miss?" he asked with an air of -virtuous repudiation. "Do ye want to destroy mee character?"</p> - -<p>"It is all right, Darby, <em>I</em> was there. I heard you sell it to a man -named James Casey. We will send for him to-morrow if you like."</p> - -<p>"Faix, I see I may as well make a clean breast of it—I see that it's -all over," remarked Darby with sullen self-possession.</p> - -<p>"If you mean the shooting of the best covers in the county, and robbing -old Mr. Sheridan, I think you are about right, and that it <em>is</em> all -over," returned Gilbert emphatically.</p> - -<p>"Well, sure, if <em>I</em> did not take from him, some one else would," was -the cool rejoinder. "'Tis a shame for the likes of him, to be tempting -poor people!"</p> - -<p>"I suppose it was your shots that we used to hear in the woods?"</p> - -<p>"I expect it was, Mr. Gilbert."</p> - -<p>"And it was you who terrified the wits out of every one after -dark—more especially other poachers. That was a clever dodge."</p> - -<p>"It was not too bad, Mr. Gilbert.—Some people does be very wake in -themselves, and shy at night."</p> - -<p>"And there are not half enough knaves in the world, for the fools that -are in it! You are a most infernal rascal."</p> - -<p>"Maybe I am, Mr. Gilbert; but I never went again me conscience."</p> - -<p>"You could not well go against what you have not got."</p> - -<p>"And, sure, what is game but wild birds?"</p> - -<p>"And the cow, was she a wild bird?—I suppose you sent all your bags to -Dublin?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 361]</span></p> - -<p>"Faix, an' I did, Mr. Gilbert!" returned Darby with perfect equanimity.</p> - -<p>"And who bought your spoil?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, a spalpeen in William Street, a rale chate! he never gave me more -ner two shillings a brace. Don't <em>you</em> have no dalings with him," said -the culprit with heroic impudence.</p> - -<p>"And now, what am I to do with you, Mr. Chute? You are convicted here -as a thief and poacher, on your own confession."</p> - -<p>"Well, now, since you <em>ax</em> me, I think ye might as well let me off, Mr. -Gilbert! Sure, it won't be no pleasure, or relief, to you to prosecute -me, and me old mother would think bad of me going to jail. Won't you -spake a word for me, Miss Helen? Sure, there's no one but yourself -can say a hate against me, and ye would not like to be put up in the -witness box at Terryscreen."</p> - -<p>"You need not be distressed about Miss Denis, Darby," said Gilbert -sternly. "I could prove enough without her. If I do let you off, it -will be on account of your old mother, and because I've known you ever -since I could walk, and because the harm is done now, and to publish -your knavery, would make half the county look like fools."</p> - -<p>"Look here, Mr. Gilbert, I'll never offer to fire a shot in anyone's -ground again, nor to set foot in Crowmore. And I'll make restitution -on the cow, an' wan or two small matters beside, in all twinty pounds. -There now! I'm laying me sins bare before you—and what more can I do?"</p> - -<p>"You can leave the country! You must clear out within twenty-four -hours, and never show your face again in these parts, either as John -Dillon or Darby Chute. And, as to the restitution, I shall have a word -with Father Fagan, <em>he</em> will see to that."</p> - -<p>"Very well, Mr. Gilbert," he rejoined quietly, "as you plase. But I -warn you that there will be nations of poachers in it, when I go."</p> - -<p>"Nations or not, go you must. I wonder what my uncle would say if he -knew I let you off so cheap."</p> - -<p>"'Deed then, Mr. Gilbert, I'm thinking he would just destroy both you - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 362]</span> - -and me! Howd-somever, I've a brother in America, and I've long laid out -to go there. So it's not putting me much about!"</p> - -<p>"And is less inconvenient than jail! Well, I daresay you will be smart -enough even for some of them."</p> - -<p>"Shure, how would I be smart, that never had no book learning?" -protested Darby scornfully. "Look here, Mr. Gilbert, if that's your -young lady—and, faix, it <em>looks</em> like it—I never saw any one make -a worse hand of coortin' than yourself. Raally, I'm surprised at ye! -You at one side of the gate, and her at the other. Miss Helen," now -turning to her, "I suppose ye may as well have this brace of grouse," -producing the birds from his pocket. "And with regard to that little -account you were spakin' of, and the <em>other</em> change, I'll send it up -the first thing in the morning, and may be you won't let on, but it was -a mistake."</p> - -<p>"Indeed, Darby, I shall tell the whole truth," cried Helen indignantly. -"You need not expect <em>me</em> to keep such a thing secret."</p> - -<p>"Well, I'll be out of it to-morrow! so it's no great matter. Good-bye, -Mr. Gilbert; good-bye, Miss Helen. You and I were never very thick, -still I wish you both luck and grace, and that you may live long and -die happy," and picking up his cap and gun, Mr. Darby Chute walked away -with considerable dignity.</p> - -<p>"There's a nice ruffian for you!" exclaimed Gilbert emphatically.</p> - -<p>"Yes; and to think how he must have robbed uncle, and poor Dido!"</p> - -<p>"And to think of the years he has been poaching the country. However, -never mind him now, we have something else to talk about."</p> - -<p>"But there's the stable clock striking eight, and I must go. And it's -your dinner-hour at Ballyredmond."</p> - -<p>"Not to-night.—To-night I don't want any dinner. (Could manly devotion -go further?) I am going to walk back with you. Thank goodness, there is -no Mrs. Creery to hustle me away <em>this</em> time."</p> - -<p>To his proposal the young lady made no demur, no protestations; not -even when he insisted on taking her home by the longest way, up the - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 363]</span> - -hill, out by the road, and in by the new avenue! The whole distance -was about three-quarters of a mile; the time occupied three-quarters -of an hour; the moon, a full harvest moon, had risen, and the twilight -had given place to a light almost as clear as day. Seated on her own -door-step, smoking her little dhudeen, they descried the "Fancy,"—and -she saw them! The unexpected appearance of an interesting-looking young -couple strolling down the road, was a welcome windfall to this active -old woman, who instantly sprang up, and darted out, to waylay them with -her invariable whine of,—</p> - -<p>"Give the poor old woman the price of a cup of tay, your honour. Oh!" -recognizing him, "and 'tis yourself is welcome home, me own darling Mr. -Gilbert. Give me the price of a new petticoat, and that you may <em>gain -the lady</em>!"</p> - -<p>In answer to this romantic appeal, he promptly threw her the sovereign -that Helen had returned, and Judy (having made herself acquainted with -the value of the coin) accompanied the lovers to the gates overpowering -them the while with shrill benedictions.</p> - -<p>From the following few words it would appear as if the "Fancy's" -good wishes were wholly superfluous, and that the lady had already -surrendered.</p> - -<p>"Good-night," she said as she paused half-way up the avenue. "You -really must not come any further."</p> - -<p>"And pray why not?"</p> - -<p>"Because they know nothing, and it will look so strange," she -stammered. "I should like to tell them first," she added rather shyly.</p> - -<p>"Then I shall come over at cock-crow, to-morrow. May I come to -breakfast?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, you may. Good-night," holding out her hand.</p> - -<p>"Good-night! and is that all? I am not going to let you run off like -that, <em>this</em> time!" detaining her. "You have forgotten something."</p> - -<p>"Oh, of course! how stupid of me—the grouse to be sure!"</p> - -<p>"No—NOT the grouse!" replied Gilbert—who was far bolder than Darby -imagined!</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">[Pg 364]</span></p> - -<p>Two minutes later Helen's cousins,—who had been sitting with the -drawing-room door open, and the hall door as usual, eagerly listening -to every sound,—heard her running up the gravel, and then up the -steps. Her cheeks were scarlet, but on the whole, she did not look as -if she was flying from a ghost!</p> - -<p>"What a fright you have given us!" cried Dido, rushing at her. "Katie -and I have been almost distracted.—You have been away nearly two -hours."</p> - -<p>"Have I really!" she exclaimed apologetically. "I did not think I had -been half that time."</p> - -<p>The anxieties of her relatives had evidently not been shared by Barry, -who sat with his feet upon a chair, a paper in his hand, and a look of -stolid indifference on his face.</p> - -<p>"Well, did you see Dillon?" he demanded, as she entered the -drawing-room.</p> - -<p>"Oh, yes! I saw him," she returned carelessly; "and here," exhibiting -the birds, "are a brace of grouse he gave me!"</p> - -<p>"I don't believe you!" bringing down his boots with a loud bang.</p> - -<p>"And there's his beard!" tossing a black object into Katie's lap,—who -immediately rose with a loud shriek, and shook it off as if it had been -a rattlesnake.</p> - -<p>"I'll tell you something else,"—addressing herself specially to her -cousins. "What do you think? We made a grand discovery this evening. -John Dillon, the notorious ghost poacher, is your esteemed friend, -Darby Chute!"</p> - -<p>When the ensuing storm of exclamations and questions had somewhat -subsided, Dido said suddenly, "But surely he never confessed all this -to you alone? Who was with you? What do you mean by <em>we</em>?"</p> - -<p>Helen's sole answer was a brilliant blush; and, strange to say, this -reply was sufficient for her cousin.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>A year has elapsed since Gilbert Lisle stood on his trial at the black -gate. He has now quite settled down in the <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">rôle</i> of a married man, and -spends most of his time between Berkshire and Ballyredmond. However, - -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_365">[Pg 365]</span> - -his wings have not been <em>too</em> closely clipped, for people who bore a -striking resemblance to him and his wife were met in Tangiers last -winter; and they are meditating a trip to the East, and paying a flying -visit to Dido (Dido who is now residing on the plains of Hindostan and -learning the practical use of punkahs and mosquito nets).</p> - -<p>Thanks to Helen's good offices, the course of Miss Sheridan's true -love ran smoothly after all, and she was married with considerable -<i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">éclat</i> from the Lisles' house in London. Between that mansion and 15, -Upper Cream Street—there is a cloud. Helen and her relatives exchange -dignified salutes when they meet in public, but there their intimacy -ceases. Mr. Lisle has forbidden his wife to cross her aunt's threshold -(an embargo that is by no means irksome to that young lady), and the -Misses Platt tell all their acquaintance what an odious, ungrateful -creature she is, and how once upon a time they took her in, and kept -her out of charity. And <em>this</em> is their reward!</p> - -<p>Nevertheless, the Honourable Mrs. Gilbert Lisle does not forget old -friends. She is not ashamed to see the Smithson Villa vehicle standing -before her door; and she has more than once visited at Malvern House, -and entertained Mrs. Kane, and some of her former pupils. Lord -Lingard has been altogether captivated by his daughter-in-law. She -is everything his heart desires; young, pretty, and pleasant. He has -invested her with the family diamonds!</p> - -<p>Barry and Katie reign at Crowmore. The place is much altered, for the -better; the old lodges have been swept away, the wall is gone, the -gates restored; the garden is pruned, the yard is reclaimed, and the -out-offices are roofed, and filled. Katie is happy in her own way. -She rather enjoys being bullied by Barry, is lenient to his little -foibles, and she listens to his vainglorious personal reminiscences -with deep interest, and implicit faith. On one point alone she is -somewhat sceptical, viz., that Barry could have married her cousin, -had he chosen;—her pretty cousin Helen, who occasionally drives over -from Ballyredmond in a smart Stanhope phaeton, and seems perfectly - -<span class="pagenum">[Pg 366]</span> - -satisfied with her own husband, and who snubs Barry, as mercilessly as -ever!</p> - -<p>Mr. Sheridan, poor gentleman, has now but few lucid intervals. He is -at present engaged in an absorbing search for the elixir of life, and -lives in his tower along with a companion, whom he treats with the most -reverent respect and calls "Archimedes," but to the outer world he is -known as James Karney—a keeper from a lunatic asylum.</p> - -<p>Biddy, thanks to Helen's good offices, has relented at last, and -permitted her niece Sally to bestow her capable hand upon "that little -sleveen, Larry Flood." The market-cart has consequently been abolished, -and the Master's occupation (like Othello's), is gone. He is now a -pensioner at Ballyredmond, where, to quote his late charioteer, Mrs. -Flood, "he never does a hand's turn, barrin' thievin' in the haggard, -and chasing the cows."</p> - -<p>The "Fancy" continues to flourish, to levy tribute, and to make a -comfortable income out of her holding at the Cross. And, according to -the last accounts from America, Darby Chute reported himself to be -doing <em>well</em>.</p> - - -<p class="center large">THE END</p> - -<hr class="r15" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<div class="center"> -PRINTED BY<br /> -KELLY AND CO., GATE STREET, LINCOLN'S INN FIELDS, W.C.<br /> -AND MIDDLE MILL, KINGSTON-ON-THAMES.<br /> -</div> -</div> - -<hr class="r15" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<div class="transnote"> -<p><span class="smcap">Transcriber's Notes.</span></p> -<p>1. Silently corrected simple spelling, grammar, and typographical -errors.</p> -<p>2. Retained anachronistic and non-standard spellings as printed.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<hr class="full" /> -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A BIRD OF PASSAGE ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg™ electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG™ -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following -the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use -of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for -copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very -easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation -of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project -Gutenberg eBooks may be modified and printed and given away—you may -do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected -by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark -license, especially commercial redistribution. -</div> - -<div style='margin-top:1em; font-size:1.1em; text-align:center'>START: FULL LICENSE</div> -<div style='text-align:center;font-size:0.9em'>THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE</div> -<div style='text-align:center;font-size:0.9em'>PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -To protect the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase “Project -Gutenberg”), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg™ License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg™ -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg™ electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person -or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.B. “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg™ electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg™ electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg™ -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the -Foundation” or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg™ -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg™ name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg™ License when -you share it without charge with others. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg™ work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country other than the United States. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg™ License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg™ work (any work -on which the phrase “Project Gutenberg” appears, or with which the -phrase “Project Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: -</div> - -<blockquote> - <div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> - 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 <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> -</blockquote> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase “Project -Gutenberg” associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg™ -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg™ License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg™ -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg™. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg™ License. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg™ work in a format -other than “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg™ website -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original “Plain -Vanilla ASCII” or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg™ License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg™ works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works -provided that: -</div> - -<div style='margin-left:0.7em;'> - <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> - • You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg™ works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg™ trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, “Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation.” - </div> - - <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> - • You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg™ - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg™ - works. - </div> - - <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> - • You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - </div> - - <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> - • You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg™ works. - </div> -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg™ electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of -the Project Gutenberg™ trademark. Contact the Foundation as set -forth in Section 3 below. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg™ collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg™ -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain “Defects,” such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the “Right -of Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg™ trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg™ electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you ‘AS-IS’, WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg™ -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg™ work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg™ work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg™ -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Project Gutenberg™ is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg™’s -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg™ collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg™ and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at www.gutenberg.org. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation’s EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state’s laws. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -The Foundation’s business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, -Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up -to date contact information can be found at the Foundation’s website -and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact -</div> - -<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Project Gutenberg™ depends upon and cannot survive without widespread -public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine-readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular state -visit <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/donate/">www.gutenberg.org/donate</a>. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate -</div> - -<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg™ electronic works -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg™ concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg™ eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Project Gutenberg™ eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Most people start at our website which has the main PG search -facility: <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -This website includes information about Project Gutenberg™, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. -</div> - -</div> -</body> -</html> diff --git a/old/69198-h/images/cover.jpg b/old/69198-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index f5f81ce..0000000 --- a/old/69198-h/images/cover.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/69198-h/images/titlepage.png b/old/69198-h/images/titlepage.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 02b658f..0000000 --- a/old/69198-h/images/titlepage.png +++ /dev/null |
