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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/839-0.txt b/839-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..601c575 --- /dev/null +++ b/839-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11574 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook of New Arabian Nights, by Robert Louis Stevenson + +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: New Arabian Nights + +Author: Robert Louis Stevenson + +Release Date: March 4, 1997 [eBook #839] +[Most recently updated: August 24, 2021] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +Produced by: David Price + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NEW ARABIAN NIGHTS *** + + + + +NEW ARABIAN NIGHTS + +BY +ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON + +LONDON +CHATTO & WINDUS +1920 + +_Printed at_ The Ballantyne Press +Spottiswoode, Ballantyne & Co. Ltd. +_Colchester_, _London & Eton_, _England_ + + + + +TO +_Robert Allan Mowbray Stevenson_ + +IN GRATEFUL REMEMBRANCE OF THEIR YOUTH +AND THEIR ALREADY OLD AFFECTION + + +Contents + + THE SUICIDE CLUB: + Story of the Young Man with the Cream Tarts + Story of the Physician and the Saratoga Trunk + The Adventure of the Hansom Cabs + + THE RAJAH’S DIAMOND: + Story of the Bandbox + Story of the Young Man in Holy Orders + Story of the House with the Green Blinds + The Adventure of Prince Florizel and a Detective + + THE PAVILION ON THE LINKS: + CHAPTER I. Tells how I Camped in Graden Sea-wood, and beheld a Light in the Pavilion + CHAPTER II. Tells of the Nocturnal Landing from the Yacht + CHAPTER III. Tells how I became acquainted with my Wife + CHAPTER IV. Tells in what a startling manner I learned that I was not alone in Graden Sea-wood + CHAPTER V. Tells of an Interview between Northmour, Clara, and Myself + CHAPTER VI. Tells of my Introduction to the Tall Man + CHAPTER VII. Tells how a Word was Cried through the Pavilion Window + CHAPTER VIII. Tells the Last of the Tall Man + CHAPTER IX. Tells how Northmour carried out his Threat + + A LODGING FOR THE NIGHT + + THE SIRE DE MALÉTROIT’S DOOR + + PROVIDENCE AND THE GUITAR + + + + +THE SUICIDE CLUB + + + + +STORY OF THE YOUNG MAN WITH THE CREAM TARTS + + +During his residence in London, the accomplished Prince Florizel of +Bohemia gained the affection of all classes by the seduction of his +manner and by a well-considered generosity. He was a remarkable man +even by what was known of him; and that was but a small part of what he +actually did. Although of a placid temper in ordinary circumstances, +and accustomed to take the world with as much philosophy as any +ploughman, the Prince of Bohemia was not without a taste for ways of +life more adventurous and eccentric than that to which he was destined +by his birth. Now and then, when he fell into a low humour, when there +was no laughable play to witness in any of the London theatres, and +when the season of the year was unsuitable to those field sports in +which he excelled all competitors, he would summon his confidant and +Master of the Horse, Colonel Geraldine, and bid him prepare himself +against an evening ramble. The Master of the Horse was a young officer +of a brave and even temerarious disposition. He greeted the news with +delight, and hastened to make ready. Long practice and a varied +acquaintance of life had given him a singular facility in disguise; he +could adapt not only his face and bearing, but his voice and almost his +thoughts, to those of any rank, character, or nation; and in this way +he diverted attention from the Prince, and sometimes gained admission +for the pair into strange societies. The civil authorities were never +taken into the secret of these adventures; the imperturbable courage of +the one and the ready invention and chivalrous devotion of the other +had brought them through a score of dangerous passes; and they grew in +confidence as time went on. + +One evening in March they were driven by a sharp fall of sleet into an +Oyster Bar in the immediate neighbourhood of Leicester Square. Colonel +Geraldine was dressed and painted to represent a person connected with +the Press in reduced circumstances; while the Prince had, as usual, +travestied his appearance by the addition of false whiskers and a pair +of large adhesive eyebrows. These lent him a shaggy and weather-beaten +air, which, for one of his urbanity, formed the most impenetrable +disguise. Thus equipped, the commander and his satellite sipped their +brandy and soda in security. + +The bar was full of guests, male and female; but though more than one +of these offered to fall into talk with our adventurers, none of them +promised to grow interesting upon a nearer acquaintance. There was +nothing present but the lees of London and the commonplace of +disrespectability; and the Prince had already fallen to yawning, and +was beginning to grow weary of the whole excursion, when the swing +doors were pushed violently open, and a young man, followed by a couple +of commissionaires, entered the bar. Each of the commissionaires +carried a large dish of cream tarts under a cover, which they at once +removed; and the young man made the round of the company, and pressed +these confections upon every one’s acceptance with an exaggerated +courtesy. Sometimes his offer was laughingly accepted; sometimes it was +firmly, or even harshly, rejected. In these latter cases the new-comer +always ate the tart himself, with some more or less humorous +commentary. + +At last he accosted Prince Florizel. + +“Sir,” said he, with a profound obeisance, proffering the tart at the +same time between his thumb and forefinger, “will you so far honour an +entire stranger? I can answer for the quality of the pastry, having +eaten two dozen and three of them myself since five o’clock.” + +“I am in the habit,” replied the Prince, “of looking not so much to the +nature of a gift as to the spirit in which it is offered.” + +“The spirit, sir,” returned the young man, with another bow, “is one of +mockery.” + +“Mockery?” repeated Florizel. “And whom do you propose to mock?” + +“I am not here to expound my philosophy,” replied the other, “but to +distribute these cream tarts. If I mention that I heartily include +myself in the ridicule of the transaction, I hope you will consider +honour satisfied and condescend. If not, you will constrain me to eat +my twenty-eighth, and I own to being weary of the exercise.” + +“You touch me,” said the Prince, “and I have all the will in the world +to rescue you from this dilemma, but upon one condition. If my friend +and I eat your cakes—for which we have neither of us any natural +inclination—we shall expect you to join us at supper by way of +recompense.” + +The young man seemed to reflect. + +“I have still several dozen upon hand,” he said at last; “and that will +make it necessary for me to visit several more bars before my great +affair is concluded. This will take some time; and if you are hungry—” + +The Prince interrupted him with a polite gesture. + +“My friend and I will accompany you,” he said; “for we have already a +deep interest in your very agreeable mode of passing an evening. And +now that the preliminaries of peace are settled, allow me to sign the +treaty for both.” + +And the Prince swallowed the tart with the best grace imaginable. + +“It is delicious,” said he. + +“I perceive you are a connoisseur,” replied the young man. + +Colonel Geraldine likewise did honour to the pastry; and every one in +that bar having now either accepted or refused his delicacies, the +young man with the cream tarts led the way to another and similar +establishment. The two commissionaires, who seemed to have grown +accustomed to their absurd employment, followed immediately after; and +the Prince and the Colonel brought up the rear, arm in arm, and smiling +to each other as they went. In this order the company visited two other +taverns, where scenes were enacted of a like nature to that already +described—some refusing, some accepting, the favours of this vagabond +hospitality, and the young man himself eating each rejected tart. + +On leaving the third saloon the young man counted his store. There were +but nine remaining, three in one tray and six in the other. + +“Gentlemen,” said he, addressing himself to his two new followers, “I +am unwilling to delay your supper. I am positively sure you must be +hungry. I feel that I owe you a special consideration. And on this +great day for me, when I am closing a career of folly by my most +conspicuously silly action, I wish to behave handsomely to all who give +me countenance. Gentlemen, you shall wait no longer. Although my +constitution is shattered by previous excesses, at the risk of my life +I liquidate the suspensory condition.” + +With these words he crushed the nine remaining tarts into his mouth, +and swallowed them at a single movement each. Then, turning to the +commissionaires, he gave them a couple of sovereigns. + +“I have to thank you,” said be, “for your extraordinary patience.” + +And he dismissed them with a bow apiece. For some seconds he stood +looking at the purse from which he had just paid his assistants, then, +with a laugh, he tossed it into the middle of the street, and signified +his readiness for supper. + +In a small French restaurant in Soho, which had enjoyed an exaggerated +reputation for some little while, but had already begun to be +forgotten, and in a private room up two pair of stairs, the three +companions made a very elegant supper, and drank three or four bottles +of champagne, talking the while upon indifferent subjects. The young +man was fluent and gay, but he laughed louder than was natural in a +person of polite breeding; his hands trembled violently, and his voice +took sudden and surprising inflections, which seemed to be independent +of his will. The dessert had been cleared away, and all three had +lighted their cigars, when the Prince addressed him in these words:— + +“You will, I am sure, pardon my curiosity. What I have seen of you has +greatly pleased but even more puzzled me. And though I should be loth +to seem indiscreet, I must tell you that my friend and I are persons +very well worthy to be entrusted with a secret. We have many of our +own, which we are continually revealing to improper ears. And if, as I +suppose, your story is a silly one, you need have no delicacy with us, +who are two of the silliest men in England. My name is Godall, +Theophilus Godall; my friend is Major Alfred Hammersmith—or at least, +such is the name by which he chooses to be known. We pass our lives +entirely in the search for extravagant adventures; and there is no +extravagance with which we are not capable of sympathy.” + +“I like you, Mr. Godall,” returned the young man; “you inspire me with +a natural confidence; and I have not the slightest objection to your +friend the Major, whom I take to be a nobleman in masquerade. At least, +I am sure he is no soldier.” + +The Colonel smiled at this compliment to the perfection of his art; and +the young man went on in a more animated manner. + +“There is every reason why I should not tell you my story. Perhaps that +is just the reason why I am going to do so. At least, you seem so well +prepared to hear a tale of silliness that I cannot find it in my heart +to disappoint you. My name, in spite of your example, I shall keep to +myself. My age is not essential to the narrative. I am descended from +my ancestors by ordinary generation, and from them I inherited the very +eligible human tenement which I still occupy and a fortune of three +hundred pounds a year. I suppose they also handed on to me a hare-brain +humour, which it has been my chief delight to indulge. I received a +good education. I can play the violin nearly well enough to earn money +in the orchestra of a penny gaff, but not quite. The same remark +applies to the flute and the French horn. I learned enough of whist to +lose about a hundred a year at that scientific game. My acquaintance +with French was sufficient to enable me to squander money in Paris with +almost the same facility as in London. In short, I am a person full of +manly accomplishments. I have had every sort of adventure, including a +duel about nothing. Only two months ago I met a young lady exactly +suited to my taste in mind and body; I found my heart melt; I saw that +I had come upon my fate at last, and was in the way to fall in love. +But when I came to reckon up what remained to me of my capital, I found +it amounted to something less than four hundred pounds! I ask you +fairly—can a man who respects himself fall in love on four hundred +pounds? I concluded, certainly not; left the presence of my charmer, +and slightly accelerating my usual rate of expenditure, came this +morning to my last eighty pounds. This I divided into two equal parts; +forty I reserved for a particular purpose; the remaining forty I was to +dissipate before the night. I have passed a very entertaining day, and +played many farces besides that of the cream tarts which procured me +the advantage of your acquaintance; for I was determined, as I told +you, to bring a foolish career to a still more foolish conclusion; and +when you saw me throw my purse into the street, the forty pounds were +at an end. Now you know me as well as I know myself: a fool, but +consistent in his folly; and, as I will ask you to believe, neither a +whimperer nor a coward.” + +From the whole tone of the young man’s statement it was plain that he +harboured very bitter and contemptuous thoughts about himself. His +auditors were led to imagine that his love affair was nearer his heart +than he admitted, and that he had a design on his own life. The farce +of the cream tarts began to have very much the air of a tragedy in +disguise. + +“Why, is this not odd,” broke out Geraldine, giving a look to Prince +Florizel, “that we three fellows should have met by the merest accident +in so large a wilderness as London, and should be so nearly in the same +condition?” + +“How?” cried the young man. “Are you, too, ruined? Is this supper a +folly like my cream tarts? Has the devil brought three of his own +together for a last carouse?” + +“The devil, depend upon it, can sometimes do a very gentlemanly thing,” +returned Prince Florizel; “and I am so much touched by this +coincidence, that, although we are not entirely in the same case, I am +going to put an end to the disparity. Let your heroic treatment of the +last cream tarts be my example.” + +So saying, the Prince drew out his purse and took from it a small +bundle of bank-notes. + +“You see, I was a week or so behind you, but I mean to catch you up and +come neck and neck into the winning-post,” he continued. “This,” laying +one of the notes upon the table, “will suffice for the bill. As for the +rest—” + +He tossed them into the fire, and they went up the chimney in a single +blaze. + +The young man tried to catch his arm, but as the table was between them +his interference came too late. + +“Unhappy man,” he cried, “you should not have burned them all! You +should have kept forty pounds.” + +“Forty pounds!” repeated the Prince. “Why, in heaven’s name, forty +pounds?” + +“Why not eighty?” cried the Colonel; “for to my certain knowledge there +must have been a hundred in the bundle.” + +“It was only forty pounds he needed,” said the young man gloomily. “But +without them there is no admission. The rule is strict. Forty pounds +for each. Accursed life, where a man cannot even die without money!” + +The Prince and the Colonel exchanged glances. “Explain yourself,” said +the latter. “I have still a pocket-book tolerably well lined, and I +need not say how readily I should share my wealth with Godall. But I +must know to what end: you must certainly tell us what you mean.” + +The young man seemed to awaken; he looked uneasily from one to the +other, and his face flushed deeply. + +“You are not fooling me?” he asked. “You are indeed ruined men like +me?” + +“Indeed, I am for my part,” replied the Colonel. + +“And for mine,” said the Prince, “I have given you proof. Who but a +ruined man would throw his notes into the fire? The action speaks for +itself.” + +“A ruined man—yes,” returned the other suspiciously, “or else a +millionaire.” + +“Enough, sir,” said the Prince; “I have said so, and I am not +accustomed to have my word remain in doubt.” + +“Ruined?” said the young man. “Are you ruined, like me? Are you, after +a life of indulgence, come to such a pass that you can only indulge +yourself in one thing more? Are you”—he kept lowering his voice as he +went on—“are you going to give yourselves that last indulgence? Are you +going to avoid the consequences of your folly by the one infallible and +easy path? Are you going to give the slip to the sheriff’s officers of +conscience by the one open door?” + +Suddenly he broke off and attempted to laugh. + +“Here is your health!” he cried, emptying his glass, “and good night to +you, my merry ruined men.” + +Colonel Geraldine caught him by the arm as he was about to rise. + +“You lack confidence in us,” he said, “and you are wrong. To all your +questions I make answer in the affirmative. But I am not so timid, and +can speak the Queen’s English plainly. We too, like yourself, have had +enough of life, and are determined to die. Sooner or later, alone or +together, we meant to seek out death and beard him where he lies ready. +Since we have met you, and your case is more pressing, let it be +to-night—and at once—and, if you will, all three together. Such a +penniless trio,” he cried, “should go arm in arm into the halls of +Pluto, and give each other some countenance among the shades!” + +Geraldine had hit exactly on the manners and intonations that became +the part he was playing. The Prince himself was disturbed, and looked +over at his confidant with a shade of doubt. As for the young man, the +flush came back darkly into his cheek, and his eyes threw out a spark +of light. + +“You are the men for me!” he cried, with an almost terrible gaiety. +“Shake hands upon the bargain!” (his hand was cold and wet). “You +little know in what a company you will begin the march! You little know +in what a happy moment for yourselves you partook of my cream tarts! I +am only a unit, but I am a unit in an army. I know Death’s private +door. I am one of his familiars, and can show you into eternity without +ceremony and yet without scandal.” + +They called upon him eagerly to explain his meaning. + +“Can you muster eighty pounds between you?” he demanded. + +Geraldine ostentatiously consulted his pocket-book, and replied in the +affirmative. + +“Fortunate beings!” cried the young man. “Forty pounds is the entry +money of the Suicide Club.” + +“The Suicide Club,” said the Prince, “why, what the devil is that?” + +“Listen,” said the young man; “this is the age of conveniences, and I +have to tell you of the last perfection of the sort. We have affairs in +different places; and hence railways were invented. Railways separated +us infallibly from our friends; and so telegraphs were made that we +might communicate speedier at great distances. Even in hotels we have +lifts to spare us a climb of some hundred steps. Now, we know that life +is only a stage to play the fool upon as long as the part amuses us. +There was one more convenience lacking to modern comfort; a decent, +easy way to quit that stage; the back stairs to liberty; or, as I said +this moment, Death’s private door. This, my two fellow-rebels, is +supplied by the Suicide Club. Do not suppose that you and I are alone, +or even exceptional in the highly reasonable desire that we profess. A +large number of our fellowmen, who have grown heartily sick of the +performance in which they are expected to join daily and all their +lives long, are only kept from flight by one or two considerations. +Some have families who would be shocked, or even blamed, if the matter +became public; others have a weakness at heart and recoil from the +circumstances of death. That is, to some extent, my own experience. I +cannot put a pistol to my head and draw the trigger; for something +stronger than myself withholds the act; and although I loathe life, I +have not strength enough in my body to take hold of death and be done +with it. For such as I, and for all who desire to be out of the coil +without posthumous scandal, the Suicide Club has been inaugurated. How +this has been managed, what is its history, or what may be its +ramifications in other lands, I am myself uninformed; and what I know +of its constitution, I am not at liberty to communicate to you. To this +extent, however, I am at your service. If you are truly tired of life, +I will introduce you to-night to a meeting; and if not to-night, at +least some time within the week, you will be easily relieved of your +existences. It is now (consulting his watch) eleven; by half-past, at +latest, we must leave this place; so that you have half-an-hour before +you to consider my proposal. It is more serious than a cream tart,” he +added, with a smile; “and I suspect more palatable.” + +“More serious, certainly,” returned Colonel Geraldine; “and as it is so +much more so, will you allow me five minutes’ speech in private with my +friend, Mr. Godall?” + +“It is only fair,” answered the young man. “If you will permit, I will +retire.” + +“You will be very obliging,” said the Colonel. + +As soon as the two were alone—“What,” said Prince Florizel, “is the use +of this confabulation, Geraldine? I see you are flurried, whereas my +mind is very tranquilly made up. I will see the end of this.” + +“Your Highness,” said the Colonel, turning pale; “let me ask you to +consider the importance of your life, not only to your friends, but to +the public interest. ‘If not to-night,’ said this madman; but supposing +that to-night some irreparable disaster were to overtake your +Highness’s person, what, let me ask you, what would be my despair, and +what the concern and disaster of a great nation?” + +“I will see the end of this,” repeated the Prince in his most +deliberate tones; “and have the kindness, Colonel Geraldine, to +remember and respect your word of honour as a gentleman. Under no +circumstances, recollect, nor without my special authority, are you to +betray the incognito under which I choose to go abroad. These were my +commands, which I now reiterate. And now,” he added, “let me ask you to +call for the bill.” + +Colonel Geraldine bowed in submission; but he had a very white face as +he summoned the young man of the cream tarts, and issued his directions +to the waiter. The Prince preserved his undisturbed demeanour, and +described a Palais Royal farce to the young suicide with great humour +and gusto. He avoided the Colonel’s appealing looks without +ostentation, and selected another cheroot with more than usual care. +Indeed, he was now the only man of the party who kept any command over +his nerves. + +The bill was discharged, the Prince giving the whole change of the note +to the astonished waiter; and the three drove off in a four-wheeler. +They were not long upon the way before the cab stopped at the entrance +to a rather dark court. Here all descended. + +After Geraldine had paid the fare, the young man turned, and addressed +Prince Florizel as follows:— + +“It is still time, Mr. Godall, to make good your escape into thraldom. +And for you too, Major Hammersmith. Reflect well before you take +another step; and if your hearts say no—here are the cross-roads.” + +“Lead on, sir,” said the Prince. “I am not the man to go back from a +thing once said.” + +“Your coolness does me good,” replied their guide. “I have never seen +any one so unmoved at this conjuncture; and yet you are not the first +whom I have escorted to this door. More than one of my friends has +preceded me, where I knew I must shortly follow. But this is of no +interest to you. Wait me here for only a few moments; I shall return as +soon as I have arranged the preliminaries of your introduction.” + +And with that the young man, waving his hand to his companions, turned +into the court, entered a doorway and disappeared. + +“Of all our follies,” said Colonel Geraldine in a low voice, “this is +the wildest and most dangerous.” + +“I perfectly believe so,” returned the Prince. + +“We have still,” pursued the Colonel, “a moment to ourselves. Let me +beseech your Highness to profit by the opportunity and retire. The +consequences of this step are so dark, and may be so grave, that I feel +myself justified in pushing a little farther than usual the liberty +which your Highness is so condescending as to allow me in private.” + +“Am I to understand that Colonel Geraldine is afraid?” asked his +Highness, taking his cheroot from his lips, and looking keenly into the +other’s face. + +“My fear is certainly not personal,” replied the other proudly; “of +that your Highness may rest well assured.” + +“I had supposed as much,” returned the Prince, with undisturbed good +humour; “but I was unwilling to remind you of the difference in our +stations. No more—no more,” he added, seeing Geraldine about to +apologise, “you stand excused.” + +And he smoked placidly, leaning against a railing, until the young man +returned. + +“Well,” he asked, “has our reception been arranged?” + +“Follow me,” was the reply. “The President will see you in the cabinet. +And let me warn you to be frank in your answers. I have stood your +guarantee; but the club requires a searching inquiry before admission; +for the indiscretion of a single member would lead to the dispersion of +the whole society for ever.” + +The Prince and Geraldine put their heads together for a moment. “Bear +me out in this,” said the one; and “bear me out in that,” said the +other; and by boldly taking up the characters of men with whom both +were acquainted, they had come to an agreement in a twinkling, and were +ready to follow their guide into the President’s cabinet. + +There were no formidable obstacles to pass. The outer door stood open; +the door of the cabinet was ajar; and there, in a small but very high +apartment, the young man left them once more. + +“He will be here immediately,” he said, with a nod, as he disappeared. + +Voices were audible in the cabinet through the folding doors which +formed one end; and now and then the noise of a champagne cork, +followed by a burst of laughter, intervened among the sounds of +conversation. A single tall window looked out upon the river and the +embankment; and by the disposition of the lights they judged themselves +not far from Charing Cross station. The furniture was scanty, and the +coverings worn to the thread; and there was nothing movable except a +hand-bell in the centre of a round table, and the hats and coats of a +considerable party hung round the wall on pegs. + +“What sort of a den is this?” said Geraldine. + +“That is what I have come to see,” replied the Prince. “If they keep +live devils on the premises, the thing may grow amusing.” + +Just then the folding door was opened no more than was necessary for +the passage of a human body; and there entered at the same moment a +louder buzz of talk, and the redoubtable President of the Suicide Club. +The President was a man of fifty or upwards; large and rambling in his +gait, with shaggy side whiskers, a bald top to his head, and a veiled +grey eye, which now and then emitted a twinkle. His mouth, which +embraced a large cigar, he kept continually screwing round and round +and from side to side, as he looked sagaciously and coldly at the +strangers. He was dressed in light tweeds, with his neck very open in a +striped shirt collar; and carried a minute book under one arm. + +“Good evening,” said he, after he had closed the door behind him. “I am +told you wish to speak with me.” + +“We have a desire, sir, to join the Suicide Club,” replied the Colonel. + +The President rolled his cigar about in his mouth. “What is that?” he +said abruptly. + +“Pardon me,” returned the Colonel, “but I believe you are the person +best qualified to give us information on that point.” + +“I?” cried the President. “A Suicide Club? Come, come! this is a frolic +for All Fools’ Day. I can make allowances for gentlemen who get merry +in their liquor; but let there be an end to this.” + +“Call your Club what you will,” said the Colonel, “you have some +company behind these doors, and we insist on joining it.” + +“Sir,” returned the President curtly, “you have made a mistake. This is +a private house, and you must leave it instantly.” + +The Prince had remained quietly in his seat throughout this little +colloquy; but now, when the Colonel looked over to him, as much as to +say, “Take your answer and come away, for God’s sake!” he drew his +cheroot from his mouth, and spoke— + +“I have come here,” said he, “upon the invitation of a friend of yours. +He has doubtless informed you of my intention in thus intruding on your +party. Let me remind you that a person in my circumstances has +exceedingly little to bind him, and is not at all likely to tolerate +much rudeness. I am a very quiet man, as a usual thing; but, my dear +sir, you are either going to oblige me in the little matter of which +you are aware, or you shall very bitterly repent that you ever admitted +me to your ante-chamber.” + +The President laughed aloud. + +“That is the way to speak,” said he. “You are a man who is a man. You +know the way to my heart, and can do what you like with me. Will you,” +he continued, addressing Geraldine, “will you step aside for a few +minutes? I shall finish first with your companion, and some of the +club’s formalities require to be fulfilled in private.” + +With these words he opened the door of a small closet, into which he +shut the Colonel. + +“I believe in you,” he said to Florizel, as soon as they were alone; +“but are you sure of your friend?” + +“Not so sure as I am of myself, though he has more cogent reasons,” +answered Florizel, “but sure enough to bring him here without alarm. He +has had enough to cure the most tenacious man of life. He was cashiered +the other day for cheating at cards.” + +“A good reason, I daresay,” replied the President; “at least, we have +another in the same case, and I feel sure of him. Have you also been in +the Service, may I ask?” + +“I have,” was the reply; “but I was too lazy, I left it early.” + +“What is your reason for being tired of life?” pursued the President. + +“The same, as near as I can make out,” answered the Prince; +“unadulterated laziness.” + +The President started. “D—n it,” said he, “you must have something +better than that.” + +“I have no more money,” added Florizel. “That is also a vexation, +without doubt. It brings my sense of idleness to an acute point.” + +The President rolled his cigar round in his mouth for some seconds, +directing his gaze straight into the eyes of this unusual neophyte; but +the Prince supported his scrutiny with unabashed good temper. + +“If I had not a deal of experience,” said the President at last, “I +should turn you off. But I know the world; and this much any way, that +the most frivolous excuses for a suicide are often the toughest to +stand by. And when I downright like a man, as I do you, sir, I would +rather strain the regulation than deny him.” + +The Prince and the Colonel, one after the other, were subjected to a +long and particular interrogatory: the Prince alone; but Geraldine in +the presence of the Prince, so that the President might observe the +countenance of the one while the other was being warmly cross-examined. +The result was satisfactory; and the President, after having booked a +few details of each case, produced a form of oath to be accepted. +Nothing could be conceived more passive than the obedience promised, or +more stringent than the terms by which the juror bound himself. The man +who forfeited a pledge so awful could scarcely have a rag of honour or +any of the consolations of religion left to him. Florizel signed the +document, but not without a shudder; the Colonel followed his example +with an air of great depression. Then the President received the entry +money; and without more ado, introduced the two friends into the +smoking-room of the Suicide Club. + +The smoking-room of the Suicide Club was the same height as the cabinet +into which it opened, but much larger, and papered from top to bottom +with an imitation of oak wainscot. A large and cheerful fire and a +number of gas-jets illuminated the company. The Prince and his follower +made the number up to eighteen. Most of the party were smoking, and +drinking champagne; a feverish hilarity reigned, with sudden and rather +ghastly pauses. + +“Is this a full meeting?” asked the Prince. + +“Middling,” said the President. “By the way,” he added, “if you have +any money, it is usual to offer some champagne. It keeps up a good +spirit, and is one of my own little perquisites.” + +“Hammersmith,” said Florizel, “I may leave the champagne to you.” + +And with that he turned away and began to go round among the guests. +Accustomed to play the host in the highest circles, he charmed and +dominated all whom he approached; there was something at once winning +and authoritative in his address; and his extraordinary coolness gave +him yet another distinction in this half maniacal society. As he went +from one to another he kept both his eyes and ears open, and soon began +to gain a general idea of the people among whom he found himself. As in +all other places of resort, one type predominated: people in the prime +of youth, with every show of intelligence and sensibility in their +appearance, but with little promise of strength or the quality that +makes success. Few were much above thirty, and not a few were still in +their teens. They stood, leaning on tables and shifting on their feet; +sometimes they smoked extraordinarily fast, and sometimes they let +their cigars go out; some talked well, but the conversation of others +was plainly the result of nervous tension, and was equally without wit +or purport. As each new bottle of champagne was opened, there was a +manifest improvement in gaiety. Only two were seated—one in a chair in +the recess of the window, with his head hanging and his hands plunged +deep into his trouser pockets, pale, visibly moist with perspiration, +saying never a word, a very wreck of soul and body; the other sat on +the divan close by the chimney, and attracted notice by a trenchant +dissimilarity from all the rest. He was probably upwards of forty, but +he looked fully ten years older; and Florizel thought he had never seen +a man more naturally hideous, nor one more ravaged by disease and +ruinous excitements. He was no more than skin and bone, was partly +paralysed, and wore spectacles of such unusual power, that his eyes +appeared through the glasses greatly magnified and distorted in shape. +Except the Prince and the President, he was the only person in the room +who preserved the composure of ordinary life. + +There was little decency among the members of the club. Some boasted of +the disgraceful actions, the consequences of which had reduced them to +seek refuge in death; and the others listened without disapproval. +There was a tacit understanding against moral judgments; and whoever +passed the club doors enjoyed already some of the immunities of the +tomb. They drank to each other’s memories, and to those of notable +suicides in the past. They compared and developed their different views +of death—some declaring that it was no more than blackness and +cessation; others full of a hope that that very night they should be +scaling the stars and commencing with the mighty dead. + +“To the eternal memory of Baron Trenck, the type of suicides!” cried +one. “He went out of a small cell into a smaller, that he might come +forth again to freedom.” + +“For my part,” said a second, “I wish no more than a bandage for my +eyes and cotton for my ears. Only they have no cotton thick enough in +this world.” + +A third was for reading the mysteries of life in a future state; and a +fourth professed that he would never have joined the club, if he had +not been induced to believe in Mr. Darwin. + +“I could not bear,” said this remarkable suicide, “to be descended from +an ape.” + +Altogether, the Prince was disappointed by the bearing and conversation +of the members. + +“It does not seem to me,” he thought, “a matter for so much +disturbance. If a man has made up his mind to kill himself, let him do +it, in God’s name, like a gentleman. This flutter and big talk is out +of place.” + +In the meanwhile Colonel Geraldine was a prey to the blackest +apprehensions; the club and its rules were still a mystery, and he +looked round the room for some one who should be able to set his mind +at rest. In this survey his eye lighted on the paralytic person with +the strong spectacles; and seeing him so exceedingly tranquil, he +besought the President, who was going in and out of the room under a +pressure of business, to present him to the gentleman on the divan. + +The functionary explained the needlessness of all such formalities +within the club, but nevertheless presented Mr. Hammersmith to Mr. +Malthus. + +Mr. Malthus looked at the Colonel curiously, and then requested him to +take a seat upon his right. + +“You are a new-comer,” he said, “and wish information? You have come to +the proper source. It is two years since I first visited this charming +club.” + +The Colonel breathed again. If Mr. Malthus had frequented the place for +two years there could be little danger for the Prince in a single +evening. But Geraldine was none the less astonished, and began to +suspect a mystification. + +“What!” cried he, “two years! I thought—but indeed I see I have been +made the subject of a pleasantry.” + +“By no means,” replied Mr. Malthus mildly. “My case is peculiar. I am +not, properly speaking, a suicide at all; but, as it were, an honorary +member. I rarely visit the club twice in two months. My infirmity and +the kindness of the President have procured me these little immunities, +for which besides I pay at an advanced rate. Even as it is my luck has +been extraordinary.” + +“I am afraid,” said the Colonel, “that I must ask you to be more +explicit. You must remember that I am still most imperfectly acquainted +with the rules of the club.” + +“An ordinary member who comes here in search of death like yourself,” +replied the paralytic, “returns every evening until fortune favours +him. He can even, if he is penniless, get board and lodging from the +President: very fair, I believe, and clean, although, of course, not +luxurious; that could hardly be, considering the exiguity (if I may so +express myself) of the subscription. And then the President’s company +is a delicacy in itself.” + +“Indeed!” cried Geraldine, “he had not greatly prepossessed me.” + +“Ah!” said Mr. Malthus, “you do not know the man: the drollest fellow! +What stories! What cynicism! He knows life to admiration and, between +ourselves, is probably the most corrupt rogue in Christendom.” + +“And he also,” asked the Colonel, “is a permanency—like yourself, if I +may say so without offence?” + +“Indeed, he is a permanency in a very different sense from me,” replied +Mr. Malthus. “I have been graciously spared, but I must go at last. Now +he never plays. He shuffles and deals for the club, and makes the +necessary arrangements. That man, my dear Mr. Hammersmith, is the very +soul of ingenuity. For three years he has pursued in London his useful +and, I think I may add, his artistic calling; and not so much as a +whisper of suspicion has been once aroused. I believe him myself to be +inspired. You doubtless remember the celebrated case, six months ago, +of the gentleman who was accidentally poisoned in a chemists shop? That +was one of the least rich, one of the least racy, of his notions; but +then, how simple! and how safe!” + +“You astound me,” said the Colonel. “Was that unfortunate gentleman one +of the—” He was about to say “victims”; but bethinking himself in time, +he substituted—“members of the club?” + +In the same flash of thought, it occurred to him that Mr. Malthus +himself had not at all spoken in the tone of one who is in love with +death; and he added hurriedly: + +“But I perceive I am still in the dark. You speak of shuffling and +dealing; pray for what end? And since you seem rather unwilling to die +than otherwise, I must own that I cannot conceive what brings you here +at all.” + +“You say truly that you are in the dark,” replied Mr. Malthus with more +animation. “Why, my dear sir, this club is the temple of intoxication. +If my enfeebled health could support the excitement more often, you may +depend upon it I should be more often here. It requires all the sense +of duty engendered by a long habit of ill-health and careful regimen, +to keep me from excess in this, which is, I may say, my last +dissipation. I have tried them all, sir,” he went on, laying his hand +on Geraldine’s arm, “all without exception, and I declare to you, upon +my honour, there is not one of them that has not been grossly and +untruthfully overrated. People trifle with love. Now, I deny that love +is a strong passion. Fear is the strong passion; it is with fear that +you must trifle, if you wish to taste the intensest joys of living. +Envy me—envy me, sir,” he added with a chuckle, “I am a coward!” + +Geraldine could scarcely repress a movement of repulsion for this +deplorable wretch; but he commanded himself with an effort, and +continued his inquiries. + +“How, sir,” he asked, “is the excitement so artfully prolonged? and +where is there any element of uncertainty?” + +“I must tell you how the victim for every evening is selected,” +returned Mr. Malthus; “and not only the victim, but another member, who +is to be the instrument in the club’s hands, and death’s high priest +for that occasion.” + +“Good God!” said the Colonel, “do they then kill each other?” + +“The trouble of suicide is removed in that way,” returned Malthus with +a nod. + +“Merciful heavens!” ejaculated the Colonel, “and may you—may I—may +the—my friend I mean—may any of us be pitched upon this evening as the +slayer of another man’s body and immortal spirit? Can such things be +possible among men born of women? Oh! infamy of infamies!” + +He was about to rise in his horror, when he caught the Prince’s eye. It +was fixed upon him from across the room with a frowning and angry +stare. And in a moment Geraldine recovered his composure. + +“After all,” he added, “why not? And since you say the game is +interesting, _vogue la galère_—I follow the club!” + +Mr. Malthus had keenly enjoyed the Colonel’s amazement and disgust. He +had the vanity of wickedness; and it pleased him to see another man +give way to a generous movement, while he felt himself, in his entire +corruption, superior to such emotions. + +“You now, after your first moment of surprise,” said he, “are in a +position to appreciate the delights of our society. You can see how it +combines the excitement of a gaming-table, a duel, and a Roman +amphitheatre. The Pagans did well enough; I cordially admire the +refinement of their minds; but it has been reserved for a Christian +country to attain this extreme, this quintessence, this absolute of +poignancy. You will understand how vapid are all amusements to a man +who has acquired a taste for this one. The game we play,” he continued, +“is one of extreme simplicity. A full pack—but I perceive you are about +to see the thing in progress. Will you lend me the help of your arm? I +am unfortunately paralysed.” + +Indeed, just as Mr. Malthus was beginning his description, another pair +of folding-doors was thrown open, and the whole club began to pass, not +without some hurry, into the adjoining room. It was similar in every +respect to the one from which it was entered, but somewhat differently +furnished. The centre was occupied by a long green table, at which the +President sat shuffling a pack of cards with great particularity. Even +with the stick and the Colonel’s arm, Mr. Malthus walked with so much +difficulty that every one was seated before this pair and the Prince, +who had waited for them, entered the apartment; and, in consequence, +the three took seats close together at the lower end of the board. + +“It is a pack of fifty-two,” whispered Mr. Malthus. “Watch for the ace +of spades, which is the sign of death, and the ace of clubs, which +designates the official of the night. Happy, happy young men!” he +added. “You have good eyes, and can follow the game. Alas! I cannot +tell an ace from a deuce across the table.” + +And he proceeded to equip himself with a second pair of spectacles. + +“I must at least watch the faces,” he explained. + +The Colonel rapidly informed his friend of all that he had learned from +the honorary member, and of the horrible alternative that lay before +them. The Prince was conscious of a deadly chill and a contraction +about his heart; he swallowed with difficulty, and looked from side to +side like a man in a maze. + +“One bold stroke,” whispered the Colonel, “and we may still escape.” + +But the suggestion recalled the Prince’s spirits. + +“Silence!” said be. “Let me see that you can play like a gentleman for +any stake, however serious.” + +And he looked about him, once more to all appearance at his ease, +although his heart beat thickly, and he was conscious of an unpleasant +heat in his bosom. The members were all very quiet and intent; every +one was pale, but none so pale as Mr. Malthus. His eyes protruded; his +head kept nodding involuntarily upon his spine; his hands found their +way, one after the other, to his mouth, where they made clutches at his +tremulous and ashen lips. It was plain that the honorary member enjoyed +his membership on very startling terms. + +“Attention, gentlemen!” said the President. + +And he began slowly dealing the cards about the table in the reverse +direction, pausing until each man had shown his card. Nearly every one +hesitated; and sometimes you would see a player’s fingers stumble more +than once before he could turn over the momentous slip of pasteboard. +As the Prince’s turn drew nearer, he was conscious of a growing and +almost suffocating excitement; but he had somewhat of the gambler’s +nature, and recognised almost with astonishment, that there was a +degree of pleasure in his sensations. The nine of clubs fell to his +lot; the three of spades was dealt to Geraldine; and the queen of +hearts to Mr. Malthus, who was unable to suppress a sob of relief. The +young man of the cream tarts almost immediately afterwards turned over +the ace of clubs, and remained frozen with horror, the card still +resting on his finger; he had not come there to kill, but to be killed; +and the Prince in his generous sympathy with his position almost forgot +the peril that still hung over himself and his friend. + +The deal was coming round again, and still Death’s card had not come +out. The players held their respiration, and only breathed by gasps. +The Prince received another club; Geraldine had a diamond; but when Mr. +Malthus turned up his card a horrible noise, like that of something +breaking, issued from his mouth; and he rose from his seat and sat down +again, with no sign of his paralysis. It was the ace of spades. The +honorary member had trifled once too often with his terrors. + +Conversation broke out again almost at once. The players relaxed their +rigid attitudes, and began to rise from the table and stroll back by +twos and threes into the smoking-room. The President stretched his arms +and yawned, like a man who has finished his day’s work. But Mr. Malthus +sat in his place, with his head in his hands, and his hands upon the +table, drunk and motionless—a thing stricken down. + +The Prince and Geraldine made their escape at once. In the cold night +air their horror of what they had witnessed was redoubled. + +“Alas!” cried the Prince, “to be bound by an oath in such a matter! to +allow this wholesale trade in murder to be continued with profit and +impunity! If I but dared to forfeit my pledge!” + +“That is impossible for your Highness,” replied the Colonel, “whose +honour is the honour of Bohemia. But I dare, and may with propriety, +forfeit mine.” + +“Geraldine,” said the Prince, “if your honour suffers in any of the +adventures into which you follow me, not only will I never pardon you, +but—what I believe will much more sensibly affect you—I should never +forgive myself.” + +“I receive your Highness’s commands,” replied the Colonel. “Shall we go +from this accursed spot?” + +“Yes,” said the Prince. “Call a cab in Heaven’s name, and let me try to +forget in slumber the memory of this night’s disgrace.” + +But it was notable that he carefully read the name of the court before +he left it. + +The next morning, as soon as the Prince was stirring, Colonel Geraldine +brought him a daily newspaper, with the following paragraph marked:— + +“Melancholy Accident.—This morning, about two o’clock, Mr. Bartholomew +Malthus, of 16 Chepstow Place, Westbourne Grove, on his way home from a +party at a friend’s house, fell over the upper parapet in Trafalgar +Square, fracturing his skull and breaking a leg and an arm. Death was +instantaneous. Mr. Malthus, accompanied by a friend, was engaged in +looking for a cab at the time of the unfortunate occurrence. As Mr. +Malthus was paralytic, it is thought that his fall may have been +occasioned by another seizure. The unhappy gentleman was well known in +the most respectable circles, and his loss will be widely and deeply +deplored.” + +“If ever a soul went straight to Hell,” said Geraldine solemnly, “it +was that paralytic man’s.” + +The Prince buried his face in his hands, and remained silent. + +“I am almost rejoiced,” continued the Colonel, “to know that he is +dead. But for our young man of the cream tarts I confess my heart +bleeds.” + +“Geraldine,” said the Prince, raising his face, “that unhappy lad was +last night as innocent as you and I; and this morning the guilt of +blood is on his soul. When I think of the President, my heart grows +sick within me. I do not know how it shall be done, but I shall have +that scoundrel at my mercy as there is a God in heaven. What an +experience, what a lesson, was that game of cards!” + +“One,” said the Colonel, “never to be repeated.” + +The Prince remained so long without replying, that Geraldine grew +alarmed. + +“You cannot mean to return,” he said. “You have suffered too much and +seen too much horror already. The duties of your high position forbid +the repetition of the hazard.” + +“There is much in what you say,” replied Prince Florizel, “and I am not +altogether pleased with my own determination. Alas! in the clothes of +the greatest potentate, what is there but a man? I never felt my +weakness more acutely than now, Geraldine, but it is stronger than I. +Can I cease to interest myself in the fortunes of the unhappy young man +who supped with us some hours ago? Can I leave the President to follow +his nefarious career unwatched? Can I begin an adventure so entrancing, +and not follow it to an end? No, Geraldine: you ask of the Prince more +than the man is able to perform. To-night, once more, we take our +places at the table of the Suicide Club.” + +Colonel Geraldine fell upon his knees. + +“Will your Highness take my life?” he cried. “It is his—his freely; but +do not, O do not! let him ask me to countenance so terrible a risk.” + +“Colonel Geraldine,” replied the Prince, with some haughtiness of +manner, “your life is absolutely your own. I only looked for obedience; +and when that is unwillingly rendered, I shall look for that no longer. +I add one word: your importunity in this affair has been sufficient.” + +The Master of the Horse regained his feet at once. + +“Your Highness,” he said, “may I be excused in my attendance this +afternoon? I dare not, as an honourable man, venture a second time into +that fatal house until I have perfectly ordered my affairs. Your +Highness shall meet, I promise him, with no more opposition from the +most devoted and grateful of his servants.” + +“My dear Geraldine,” returned Prince Florizel, “I always regret when +you oblige me to remember my rank. Dispose of your day as you think +fit, but be here before eleven in the same disguise.” + +The club, on this second evening, was not so fully attended; and when +Geraldine and the Prince arrived, there were not above half-a-dozen +persons in the smoking-room. His Highness took the President aside and +congratulated him warmly on the demise of Mr. Malthus. + +“I like,” he said, “to meet with capacity, and certainly find much of +it in you. Your profession is of a very delicate nature, but I see you +are well qualified to conduct it with success and secrecy.” + +The President was somewhat affected by these compliments from one of +his Highness’s superior bearing. He acknowledged them almost with +humility. + +“Poor Malthy!” he added, “I shall hardly know the club without him. The +most of my patrons are boys, sir, and poetical boys, who are not much +company for me. Not but what Malthy had some poetry, too; but it was of +a kind that I could understand.” + +“I can readily imagine you should find yourself in sympathy with Mr. +Malthus,” returned the Prince. “He struck me as a man of a very +original disposition.” + +The young man of the cream tarts was in the room, but painfully +depressed and silent. His late companions sought in vain to lead him +into conversation. + +“How bitterly I wish,” he cried, “that I had never brought you to this +infamous abode! Begone, while you are clean-handed. If you could have +heard the old man scream as he fell, and the noise of his bones upon +the pavement! Wish me, if you have any kindness to so fallen a +being—wish the ace of spades for me to-night!” + +A few more members dropped in as the evening went on, but the club did +not muster more than the devil’s dozen when they took their places at +the table. The Prince was again conscious of a certain joy in his +alarms; but he was astonished to see Geraldine so much more +self-possessed than on the night before. + +“It is extraordinary,” thought the Prince, “that a will, made or +unmade, should so greatly influence a young man’s spirit.” + +“Attention, gentlemen!” said the President, and he began to deal. + +Three times the cards went all round the table, and neither of the +marked cards had yet fallen from his hand. The excitement as he began +the fourth distribution was overwhelming. There were just cards enough +to go once more entirely round. The Prince, who sat second from the +dealer’s left, would receive, in the reverse mode of dealing practised +at the club, the second last card. The third player turned up a black +ace—it was the ace of clubs. The next received a diamond, the next a +heart, and so on; but the ace of spades was still undelivered. At last, +Geraldine, who sat upon the Prince’s left, turned his card; it was an +ace, but the ace of hearts. + +When Prince Florizel saw his fate upon the table in front of him, his +heart stood still. He was a brave man, but the sweat poured off his +face. There were exactly fifty chances out of a hundred that he was +doomed. He reversed the card; it was the ace of spades. A loud roaring +filled his brain, and the table swam before his eyes. He heard the +player on his right break into a fit of laughter that sounded between +mirth and disappointment; he saw the company rapidly dispersing, but +his mind was full of other thoughts. He recognised how foolish, how +criminal, had been his conduct. In perfect health, in the prime of his +years, the heir to a throne, he had gambled away his future and that of +a brave and loyal country. “God,” he cried, “God forgive me!” And with +that, the confusion of his senses passed away, and he regained his +self-possession in a moment. + +To his surprise Geraldine had disappeared. There was no one in the +card-room but his destined butcher consulting with the President, and +the young man of the cream tarts, who slipped up to the Prince, and +whispered in his ear:— + +“I would give a million, if I had it, for your luck.” + +His Highness could not help reflecting, as the young man departed, that +he would have sold his opportunity for a much more moderate sum. + +The whispered conference now came to an end. The holder of the ace of +clubs left the room with a look of intelligence, and the President, +approaching the unfortunate Prince, proffered him his hand. + +“I am pleased to have met you, sir,” said he, “and pleased to have been +in a position to do you this trifling service. At least, you cannot +complain of delay. On the second evening—what a stroke of luck!” + +The Prince endeavoured in vain to articulate something in response, but +his mouth was dry and his tongue seemed paralysed. + +“You feel a little sickish?” asked the President, with some show of +solicitude. “Most gentlemen do. Will you take a little brandy?” + +The Prince signified in the affirmative, and the other immediately +filled some of the spirit into a tumbler. + +“Poor old Malthy!” ejaculated the President, as the Prince drained the +glass. “He drank near upon a pint, and little enough good it seemed to +do him!” + +“I am more amenable to treatment,” said the Prince, a good deal +revived. “I am my own man again at once, as you perceive. And so, let +me ask you, what are my directions?” + +“You will proceed along the Strand in the direction of the City, and on +the left-hand pavement, until you meet the gentleman who has just left +the room. He will continue your instructions, and him you will have the +kindness to obey; the authority of the club is vested in his person for +the night. And now,” added the President, “I wish you a pleasant walk.” + +Florizel acknowledged the salutation rather awkwardly, and took his +leave. He passed through the smoking-room, where the bulk of the +players were still consuming champagne, some of which he had himself +ordered and paid for; and he was surprised to find himself cursing them +in his heart. He put on his hat and greatcoat in the cabinet, and +selected his umbrella from a corner. The familiarity of these acts, and +the thought that he was about them for the last time, betrayed him into +a fit of laughter which sounded unpleasantly in his own ears. He +conceived a reluctance to leave the cabinet, and turned instead to the +window. The sight of the lamps and the darkness recalled him to +himself. + +“Come, come, I must be a man,” he thought, “and tear myself away.” + +At the corner of Box Court three men fell upon Prince Florizel and he +was unceremoniously thrust into a carriage, which at once drove rapidly +away. There was already an occupant. + +“Will your Highness pardon my zeal?” said a well known voice. + +The Prince threw himself upon the Colonel’s neck in a passion of +relief. + +“How can I ever thank you?” he cried. “And how was this effected?” + +Although he had been willing to march upon his doom, he was overjoyed +to yield to friendly violence, and return once more to life and hope. + +“You can thank me effectually enough,” replied the Colonel, “by +avoiding all such dangers in the future. And as for your second +question, all has been managed by the simplest means. I arranged this +afternoon with a celebrated detective. Secrecy has been promised and +paid for. Your own servants have been principally engaged in the +affair. The house in Box Court has been surrounded since nightfall, and +this, which is one of your own carriages, has been awaiting you for +nearly an hour.” + +“And the miserable creature who was to have slain me—what of him?” +inquired the Prince. + +“He was pinioned as he left the club,” replied the Colonel, “and now +awaits your sentence at the Palace, where he will soon be joined by his +accomplices.” + +“Geraldine,” said the Prince, “you have saved me against my explicit +orders, and you have done well. I owe you not only my life, but a +lesson; and I should be unworthy of my rank if I did not show myself +grateful to my teacher. Let it be yours to choose the manner.” + +There was a pause, during which the carriage continued to speed through +the streets, and the two men were each buried in his own reflections. +The silence was broken by Colonel Geraldine. + +“Your Highness,” said he, “has by this time a considerable body of +prisoners. There is at least one criminal among the number to whom +justice should be dealt. Our oath forbids us all recourse to law; and +discretion would forbid it equally if the oath were loosened. May I +inquire your Highness’s intention?” + +“It is decided,” answered Florizel; “the President must fall in duel. +It only remains to choose his adversary.” + +“Your Highness has permitted me to name my own recompense,” said the +Colonel. “Will he permit me to ask the appointment of my brother? It is +an honourable post, but I dare assure your Highness that the lad will +acquit himself with credit.” + +“You ask me an ungracious favour,” said the Prince, “but I must refuse +you nothing.” + +The Colonel kissed his hand with the greatest affection; and at that +moment the carriage rolled under the archway of the Prince’s splendid +residence. + +An hour after, Florizel in his official robes, and covered with all the +orders of Bohemia, received the members of the Suicide Club. + +“Foolish and wicked men,” said he, “as many of you as have been driven +into this strait by the lack of fortune shall receive employment and +remuneration from my officers. Those who suffer under a sense of guilt +must have recourse to a higher and more generous Potentate than I. I +feel pity for all of you, deeper than you can imagine; to-morrow you +shall tell me your stories; and as you answer more frankly, I shall be +the more able to remedy your misfortunes. As for you,” he added, +turning to the President, “I should only offend a person of your parts +by any offer of assistance; but I have instead a piece of diversion to +propose to you. Here,” laying his hand on the shoulder of Colonel +Geraldine’s young brother, “is an officer of mine who desires to make a +little tour upon the Continent; and I ask you, as a favour, to +accompany him on this excursion. Do you,” he went on, changing his +tone, “do you shoot well with the pistol? Because you may have need of +that accomplishment. When two men go travelling together, it is best to +be prepared for all. Let me add that, if by any chance you should lose +young Mr. Geraldine upon the way, I shall always have another member of +my household to place at your disposal; and I am known, Mr. President, +to have long eyesight, and as long an arm.” + +With these words, said with much sternness, the Prince concluded his +address. Next morning the members of the club were suitably provided +for by his munificence, and the President set forth upon his travels, +under the supervision of Mr. Geraldine, and a pair of faithful and +adroit lackeys, well trained in the Prince’s household. Not content +with this, discreet agents were put in possession of the house in Box +Court, and all letters or visitors for the Suicide Club or its +officials were to be examined by Prince Florizel in person. + + +_Here_ (says my Arabian author) _ends_ The Story of the Young Man with +the Cream Tarts, _who is now a comfortable householder in Wigmore +Street_, _Cavendish Square_. _The number_, _for obvious reasons_, _I +suppress_. _Those who care to pursue the adventures of Prince Florizel +and the President of the Suicide Club_, _may read the_ History of the +Physician and the Saratoga Trunk. + + + + +STORY OF THE PHYSICIAN AND THE SARATOGA TRUNK + + +Mr. Silas Q. Scuddamore was a young American of a simple and harmless +disposition, which was the more to his credit as he came from New +England—a quarter of the New World not precisely famous for those +qualities. Although he was exceedingly rich, he kept a note of all his +expenses in a little paper pocket-book; and he had chosen to study the +attractions of Paris from the seventh story of what is called a +furnished hotel, in the Latin Quarter. There was a great deal of habit +in his penuriousness; and his virtue, which was very remarkable among +his associates, was principally founded upon diffidence and youth. + +The next room to his was inhabited by a lady, very attractive in her +air and very elegant in toilette, whom, on his first arrival, he had +taken for a Countess. In course of time he had learned that she was +known by the name of Madame Zéphyrine, and that whatever station she +occupied in life it was not that of a person of title. Madame +Zéphyrine, probably in the hope of enchanting the young American, used +to flaunt by him on the stairs with a civil inclination, a word of +course, and a knock-down look out of her black eyes, and disappear in a +rustle of silk, and with the revelation of an admirable foot and ankle. +But these advances, so far from encouraging Mr. Scuddamore, plunged him +into the depths of depression and bashfulness. She had come to him +several times for a light, or to apologise for the imaginary +depredations of her poodle; but his mouth was closed in the presence of +so superior a being, his French promptly left him, and he could only +stare and stammer until she was gone. The slenderness of their +intercourse did not prevent him from throwing out insinuations of a +very glorious order when he was safely alone with a few males. + +The room on the other side of the American’s—for there were three rooms +on a floor in the hotel—was tenanted by an old English physician of +rather doubtful reputation. Dr. Noel, for that was his name, had been +forced to leave London, where he enjoyed a large and increasing +practice; and it was hinted that the police had been the instigators of +this change of scene. At least he, who had made something of a figure +in earlier life, now dwelt in the Latin Quarter in great simplicity and +solitude, and devoted much of his time to study. Mr. Scuddamore had +made his acquaintance, and the pair would now and then dine together +frugally in a restaurant across the street. + +Silas Q. Scuddamore had many little vices of the more respectable +order, and was not restrained by delicacy from indulging them in many +rather doubtful ways. Chief among his foibles stood curiosity. He was a +born gossip; and life, and especially those parts of it in which he had +no experience, interested him to the degree of passion. He was a pert, +invincible questioner, pushing his inquiries with equal pertinacity and +indiscretion; he had been observed, when he took a letter to the post, +to weigh it in his hand, to turn it over and over, and to study the +address with care; and when he found a flaw in the partition between +his room and Madame Zéphyrine’s, instead of filling it up, he enlarged +and improved the opening, and made use of it as a spy-hole on his +neighbour’s affairs. + +One day, in the end of March, his curiosity growing as it was indulged, +he enlarged the hole a little further, so that he might command another +corner of the room. That evening, when he went as usual to inspect +Madame Zéphyrine’s movements, he was astonished to find the aperture +obscured in an odd manner on the other side, and still more abashed +when the obstacle was suddenly withdrawn and a titter of laughter +reached his ears. Some of the plaster had evidently betrayed the secret +of his spy-hole, and his neighbour had been returning the compliment in +kind. Mr. Scuddamore was moved to a very acute feeling of annoyance; he +condemned Madame Zéphyrine unmercifully; he even blamed himself; but +when he found, next day, that she had taken no means to baulk him of +his favourite pastime, he continued to profit by her carelessness, and +gratify his idle curiosity. + +That next day Madame Zéphyrine received a long visit from a tall, +loosely-built man of fifty or upwards, whom Silas had not hitherto +seen. His tweed suit and coloured shirt, no less than his shaggy +side-whiskers, identified him as a Britisher, and his dull grey eye +affected Silas with a sense of cold. He kept screwing his mouth from +side to side and round and round during the whole colloquy, which was +carried on in whispers. More than once it seemed to the young New +Englander as if their gestures indicated his own apartment; but the +only thing definite he could gather by the most scrupulous attention +was this remark made by the Englishman in a somewhat higher key, as if +in answer to some reluctance or opposition. + +“I have studied his taste to a nicety, and I tell you again and again +you are the only woman of the sort that I can lay my hands on.” + +In answer to this, Madame Zéphyrine sighed, and appeared by a gesture +to resign herself, like one yielding to unqualified authority. + +That afternoon the observatory was finally blinded, a wardrobe having +been drawn in front of it upon the other side; and while Silas was +still lamenting over this misfortune, which he attributed to the +Britisher’s malign suggestion, the concierge brought him up a letter in +a female handwriting. It was conceived in French of no very rigorous +orthography, bore no signature, and in the most encouraging terms +invited the young American to be present in a certain part of the +Bullier Ball at eleven o’clock that night. Curiosity and timidity +fought a long battle in his heart; sometimes he was all virtue, +sometimes all fire and daring; and the result of it was that, long +before ten, Mr. Silas Q. Scuddamore presented himself in unimpeachable +attire at the door of the Bullier Ball Rooms, and paid his entry money +with a sense of reckless devilry that was not without its charm. + +It was Carnival time, and the Ball was very full and noisy. The lights +and the crowd at first rather abashed our young adventurer, and then, +mounting to his brain with a sort of intoxication, put him in +possession of more than his own share of manhood. He felt ready to face +the devil, and strutted in the ballroom with the swagger of a cavalier. +While he was thus parading, he became aware of Madame Zéphyrine and her +Britisher in conference behind a pillar. The cat-like spirit of +eaves-dropping overcame him at once. He stole nearer and nearer on the +couple from behind, until he was within earshot. + +“That is the man,” the Britisher was saying; “there—with the long blond +hair—speaking to a girl in green.” + +Silas identified a very handsome young fellow of small stature, who was +plainly the object of this designation. + +“It is well,” said Madame Zéphyrine. “I shall do my utmost. But, +remember, the best of us may fail in such a matter.” + +“Tut!” returned her companion; “I answer for the result. Have I not +chosen you from thirty? Go; but be wary of the Prince. I cannot think +what cursed accident has brought him here to-night. As if there were +not a dozen balls in Paris better worth his notice than this riot of +students and counter-jumpers! See him where he sits, more like a +reigning Emperor at home than a Prince upon his holidays!” + +Silas was again lucky. He observed a person of rather a full build, +strikingly handsome, and of a very stately and courteous demeanour, +seated at table with another handsome young man, several years his +junior, who addressed him with conspicuous deference. The name of +Prince struck gratefully on Silas’s Republican hearing, and the aspect +of the person to whom that name was applied exercised its usual charm +upon his mind. He left Madame Zéphyrine and her Englishman to take care +of each other, and threading his way through the assembly, approached +the table which the Prince and his confidant had honoured with their +choice. + +“I tell you, Geraldine,” the former was saying, “the action is madness. +Yourself (I am glad to remember it) chose your brother for this +perilous service, and you are bound in duty to have a guard upon his +conduct. He has consented to delay so many days in Paris; that was +already an imprudence, considering the character of the man he has to +deal with; but now, when he is within eight-and-forty hours of his +departure, when he is within two or three days of the decisive trial, I +ask you, is this a place for him to spend his time? He should be in a +gallery at practice; he should be sleeping long hours and taking +moderate exercise on foot; he should be on a rigorous diet, without +white wines or brandy. Does the dog imagine we are all playing comedy? +The thing is deadly earnest, Geraldine.” + +“I know the lad too well to interfere,” replied Colonel Geraldine, “and +well enough not to be alarmed. He is more cautious than you fancy, and +of an indomitable spirit. If it had been a woman I should not say so +much, but I trust the President to him and the two valets without an +instant’s apprehension.” + +“I am gratified to hear you say so,” replied the Prince; “but my mind +is not at rest. These servants are well-trained spies, and already has +not this miscreant succeeded three times in eluding their observation +and spending several hours on end in private, and most likely +dangerous, affairs? An amateur might have lost him by accident, but if +Rudolph and Jérome were thrown off the scent, it must have been done on +purpose, and by a man who had a cogent reason and exceptional +resources.” + +“I believe the question is now one between my brother and myself,” +replied Geraldine, with a shade of offence in his tone. + +“I permit it to be so, Colonel Geraldine,” returned Prince Florizel. +“Perhaps, for that very reason, you should be all the more ready to +accept my counsels. But enough. That girl in yellow dances well.” + +And the talk veered into the ordinary topics of a Paris ballroom in the +Carnival. + +Silas remembered where he was, and that the hour was already near at +hand when he ought to be upon the scene of his assignation. The more he +reflected the less he liked the prospect, and as at that moment an eddy +in the crowd began to draw him in the direction of the door, he +suffered it to carry him away without resistance. The eddy stranded him +in a corner under the gallery, where his ear was immediately struck +with the voice of Madame Zéphyrine. She was speaking in French with the +young man of the blond locks who had been pointed out by the strange +Britisher not half-an-hour before. + +“I have a character at stake,” she said, “or I would put no other +condition than my heart recommends. But you have only to say so much to +the porter, and he will let you go by without a word.” + +“But why this talk of debt?” objected her companion. + +“Heavens!” said she, “do you think I do not understand my own hotel?” + +And she went by, clinging affectionately to her companion’s arm. + +This put Silas in mind of his billet. + +“Ten minutes hence,” thought he, “and I may be walking with as +beautiful a woman as that, and even better dressed—perhaps a real lady, +possibly a woman or title.” + +And then he remembered the spelling, and was a little downcast. + +“But it may have been written by her maid,” he imagined. + +The clock was only a few minutes from the hour, and this immediate +proximity set his heart beating at a curious and rather disagreeable +speed. He reflected with relief that he was in no way bound to put in +an appearance. Virtue and cowardice were together, and he made once +more for the door, but this time of his own accord, and battling +against the stream of people which was now moving in a contrary +direction. Perhaps this prolonged resistance wearied him, or perhaps he +was in that frame of mind when merely to continue in the same +determination for a certain number of minutes produces a reaction and a +different purpose. Certainly, at least, he wheeled about for a third +time, and did not stop until he had found a place of concealment within +a few yards of the appointed place. + +Here he went through an agony of spirit, in which he several times +prayed to God for help, for Silas had been devoutly educated. He had +now not the least inclination for the meeting; nothing kept him from +flight but a silly fear lest he should be thought unmanly; but this was +so powerful that it kept head against all other motives; and although +it could not decide him to advance, prevented him from definitely +running away. At last the clock indicated ten minutes past the hour. +Young Scuddamore’s spirit began to rise; he peered round the corner and +saw no one at the place of meeting; doubtless his unknown correspondent +had wearied and gone away. He became as bold as he had formerly been +timid. It seemed to him that if he came at all to the appointment, +however late, he was clear from the charge of cowardice. Nay, now he +began to suspect a hoax, and actually complimented himself on his +shrewdness in having suspected and outmanoeuvred his mystifiers. So +very idle a thing is a boy’s mind! + +Armed with these reflections, he advanced boldly from his corner; but +he had not taken above a couple of steps before a hand was laid upon +his arm. He turned and beheld a lady cast in a very large mould and +with somewhat stately features, but bearing no mark of severity in her +looks. + +“I see that you are a very self-confident lady-killer,” said she; “for +you make yourself expected. But I was determined to meet you. When a +woman has once so far forgotten herself as to make the first advance, +she has long ago left behind her all considerations of petty pride.” + +Silas was overwhelmed by the size and attractions of his correspondent +and the suddenness with which she had fallen upon him. But she soon set +him at his ease. She was very towardly and lenient in her behaviour; +she led him on to make pleasantries, and then applauded him to the +echo; and in a very short time, between blandishments and a liberal +exhibition of warm brandy, she had not only induced him to fancy +himself in love, but to declare his passion with the greatest +vehemence. + +“Alas!” she said; “I do not know whether I ought not to deplore this +moment, great as is the pleasure you give me by your words. Hitherto I +was alone to suffer; now, poor boy, there will be two. I am not my own +mistress. I dare not ask you to visit me at my own house, for I am +watched by jealous eyes. Let me see,” she added; “I am older than you, +although so much weaker; and while I trust in your courage and +determination, I must employ my own knowledge of the world for our +mutual benefit. Where do you live?” + +He told her that he lodged in a furnished hotel, and named the street +and number. + +She seemed to reflect for some minutes, with an effort of mind. + +“I see,” she said at last. “You will be faithful and obedient, will you +not?” + +Silas assured her eagerly of his fidelity. + +“To-morrow night, then,” she continued, with an encouraging smile, “you +must remain at home all the evening; and if any friends should visit +you, dismiss them at once on any pretext that most readily presents +itself. Your door is probably shut by ten?” she asked. + +“By eleven,” answered Silas. + +“At a quarter past eleven,” pursued the lady, “leave the house. Merely +cry for the door to be opened, and be sure you fall into no talk with +the porter, as that might ruin everything. Go straight to the corner +where the Luxembourg Gardens join the Boulevard; there you will find me +waiting you. I trust you to follow my advice from point to point: and +remember, if you fail me in only one particular, you will bring the +sharpest trouble on a woman whose only fault is to have seen and loved +you.” + +“I cannot see the use of all these instructions,” said Silas. + +“I believe you are already beginning to treat me as a master,” she +cried, tapping him with her fan upon the arm. “Patience, patience! that +should come in time. A woman loves to be obeyed at first, although +afterwards she finds her pleasure in obeying. Do as I ask you, for +Heaven’s sake, or I will answer for nothing. Indeed, now I think of +it,” she added, with the manner of one who has just seen further into a +difficulty, “I find a better plan of keeping importunate visitors away. +Tell the porter to admit no one for you, except a person who may come +that night to claim a debt; and speak with some feeling, as though you +feared the interview, so that he may take your words in earnest.” + +“I think you may trust me to protect myself against intruders,” he +said, not without a little pique. + +“That is how I should prefer the thing arranged,” she answered coldly. +“I know you men; you think nothing of a woman’s reputation.” + +Silas blushed and somewhat hung his head; for the scheme he had in view +had involved a little vain-glorying before his acquaintances. + +“Above all,” she added, “do not speak to the porter as you come out.” + +“And why?” said he. “Of all your instructions, that seems to me the +least important.” + +“You at first doubted the wisdom of some of the others, which you now +see to be very necessary,” she replied. “Believe me, this also has its +uses; in time you will see them; and what am I to think of your +affection, if you refuse me such trifles at our first interview?” + +Silas confounded himself in explanations and apologies; in the middle +of these she looked up at the clock and clapped her hands together with +a suppressed scream. + +“Heavens!” she cried, “is it so late? I have not an instant to lose. +Alas, we poor women, what slaves we are! What have I not risked for you +already?” + +And after repeating her directions, which she artfully combined with +caresses and the most abandoned looks, she bade him farewell and +disappeared among the crowd. + +The whole of the next day Silas was filled with a sense of great +importance; he was now sure she was a countess; and when evening came +he minutely obeyed her orders and was at the corner of the Luxembourg +Gardens by the hour appointed. No one was there. He waited nearly +half-an-hour, looking in the face of every one who passed or loitered +near the spot; he even visited the neighbouring corners of the +Boulevard and made a complete circuit of the garden railings; but there +was no beautiful countess to throw herself into his arms. At last, and +most reluctantly, he began to retrace his steps towards his hotel. On +the way he remembered the words he had heard pass between Madame +Zéphyrine and the blond young man, and they gave him an indefinite +uneasiness. + +“It appears,” he reflected, “that every one has to tell lies to our +porter.” + +He rang the bell, the door opened before him, and the porter in his +bed-clothes came to offer him a light. + +“Has he gone?” inquired the porter. + +“He? Whom do you mean?” asked Silas, somewhat sharply, for he was +irritated by his disappointment. + +“I did not notice him go out,” continued the porter, “but I trust you +paid him. We do not care, in this house, to have lodgers who cannot +meet their liabilities.” + +“What the devil do you mean?” demanded Silas rudely. “I cannot +understand a word of this farrago.” + +“The short blond young man who came for his debt,” returned the other. +“Him it is I mean. Who else should it be, when I had your orders to +admit no one else?” + +“Why, good God, of course he never came,” retorted Silas. + +“I believe what I believe,” returned the porter, putting his tongue +into his cheek with a most roguish air. + +“You are an insolent scoundrel,” cried Silas, and, feeling that he had +made a ridiculous exhibition of asperity, and at the same time +bewildered by a dozen alarms, he turned and began to run upstairs. + +“Do you not want a light then?” cried the porter. + +But Silas only hurried the faster, and did not pause until he had +reached the seventh landing and stood in front of his own door. There +he waited a moment to recover his breath, assailed by the worst +forebodings and almost dreading to enter the room. + +When at last he did so he was relieved to find it dark, and to all +appearance, untenanted. He drew a long breath. Here he was, home again +in safety, and this should be his last folly as certainly as it had +been his first. The matches stood on a little table by the bed, and he +began to grope his way in that direction. As he moved, his +apprehensions grew upon him once more, and he was pleased, when his +foot encountered an obstacle, to find it nothing more alarming than a +chair. At last he touched curtains. From the position of the window, +which was faintly visible, he knew he must be at the foot of the bed, +and had only to feel his way along it in order to reach the table in +question. + +He lowered his hand, but what it touched was not simply a +counterpane—it was a counterpane with something underneath it like the +outline of a human leg. Silas withdrew his arm and stood a moment +petrified. + +“What, what,” he thought, “can this betoken?” + +He listened intently, but there was no sound of breathing. Once more, +with a great effort, he reached out the end of his finger to the spot +he had already touched; but this time he leaped back half a yard, and +stood shivering and fixed with terror. There was something in his bed. +What it was he knew not, but there was something there. + +It was some seconds before he could move. Then, guided by an instinct, +he fell straight upon the matches, and keeping his back towards the bed +lighted a candle. As soon as the flame had kindled, he turned slowly +round and looked for what he feared to see. Sure enough, there was the +worst of his imaginations realised. The coverlid was drawn carefully up +over the pillow, but it moulded the outline of a human body lying +motionless; and when he dashed forward and flung aside the sheets, he +beheld the blond young man whom he had seen in the Bullier Ball the +night before, his eyes open and without speculation, his face swollen +and blackened, and a thin stream of blood trickling from his nostrils. + +Silas uttered a long, tremulous wail, dropped the candle, and fell on +his knees beside the bed. + +Silas was awakened from the stupor into which his terrible discovery +had plunged him by a prolonged but discreet tapping at the door. It +took him some seconds to remember his position; and when he hastened to +prevent anyone from entering it was already too late. Dr. Noel, in a +tall night-cap, carrying a lamp which lighted up his long white +countenance, sidling in his gait, and peering and cocking his head like +some sort of bird, pushed the door slowly open, and advanced into the +middle of the room. + +“I thought I heard a cry,” began the Doctor, “and fearing you might be +unwell I did not hesitate to offer this intrusion.” + +Silas, with a flushed face and a fearful beating heart, kept between +the Doctor and the bed; but he found no voice to answer. + +“You are in the dark,” pursued the Doctor; “and yet you have not even +begun to prepare for rest. You will not easily persuade me against my +own eyesight; and your face declares most eloquently that you require +either a friend or a physician—which is it to be? Let me feel your +pulse, for that is often a just reporter of the heart.” + +He advanced to Silas, who still retreated before him backwards, and +sought to take him by the wrist; but the strain on the young American’s +nerves had become too great for endurance. He avoided the Doctor with a +febrile movement, and, throwing himself upon the floor, burst into a +flood of weeping. + +As soon as Dr. Noel perceived the dead man in the bed his face +darkened; and hurrying back to the door which he had left ajar, he +hastily closed and double-locked it. + +“Up!” he cried, addressing Silas in strident tones; “this is no time +for weeping. What have you done? How came this body in your room? Speak +freely to one who may be helpful. Do you imagine I would ruin you? Do +you think this piece of dead flesh on your pillow can alter in any +degree the sympathy with which you have inspired me? Credulous youth, +the horror with which blind and unjust law regards an action never +attaches to the doer in the eyes of those who love him; and if I saw +the friend of my heart return to me out of seas of blood he would be in +no way changed in my affection. Raise yourself,” he said; “good and ill +are a chimera; there is nought in life except destiny, and however you +may be circumstanced there is one at your side who will help you to the +last.” + +Thus encouraged, Silas gathered himself together, and in a broken +voice, and helped out by the Doctor’s interrogations, contrived at last +to put him in possession of the facts. But the conversation between the +Prince and Geraldine he altogether omitted, as he had understood little +of its purport, and had no idea that it was in any way related to his +own misadventure. + +“Alas!” cried Dr. Noel, “I am much abused, or you have fallen +innocently into the most dangerous hands in Europe. Poor boy, what a +pit has been dug for your simplicity! into what a deadly peril have +your unwary feet been conducted! This man,” he said, “this Englishman, +whom you twice saw, and whom I suspect to be the soul of the +contrivance, can you describe him? Was he young or old? tall or short?” + +But Silas, who, for all his curiosity, had not a seeing eye in his +head, was able to supply nothing but meagre generalities, which it was +impossible to recognise. + +“I would have it a piece of education in all schools!” cried the Doctor +angrily. “Where is the use of eyesight and articulate speech if a man +cannot observe and recollect the features of his enemy? I, who know all +the gangs of Europe, might have identified him, and gained new weapons +for your defence. Cultivate this art in future, my poor boy; you may +find it of momentous service.” + +“The future!” repeated Silas. “What future is there left for me except +the gallows?” + +“Youth is but a cowardly season,” returned the Doctor; “and a man’s own +troubles look blacker than they are. I am old, and yet I never +despair.” + +“Can I tell such a story to the police?” demanded Silas. + +“Assuredly not,” replied the Doctor. “From what I see already of the +machination in which you have been involved, your case is desperate +upon that side; and for the narrow eye of the authorities you are +infallibly the guilty person. And remember that we only know a portion +of the plot; and the same infamous contrivers have doubtless arranged +many other circumstances which would be elicited by a police inquiry, +and help to fix the guilt more certainly upon your innocence.” + +“I am then lost, indeed!” cried Silas. + +“I have not said so,” answered Dr. Noel “for I am a cautious man.” + +“But look at this!” objected Silas, pointing to the body. “Here is this +object in my bed; not to be explained, not to be disposed of, not to be +regarded without horror.” + +“Horror?” replied the Doctor. “No. When this sort of clock has run +down, it is no more to me than an ingenious piece of mechanism, to be +investigated with the bistoury. When blood is once cold and stagnant, +it is no longer human blood; when flesh is once dead, it is no longer +that flesh which we desire in our lovers and respect in our friends. +The grace, the attraction, the terror, have all gone from it with the +animating spirit. Accustom yourself to look upon it with composure; for +if my scheme is practicable you will have to live some days in constant +proximity to that which now so greatly horrifies you.” + +“Your scheme?” cried Silas. “What is that? Tell me speedily, Doctor; +for I have scarcely courage enough to continue to exist.” + +Without replying, Doctor Noel turned towards the bed, and proceeded to +examine the corpse. + +“Quite dead,” he murmured. “Yes, as I had supposed, the pockets empty. +Yes, and the name cut off the shirt. Their work has been done +thoroughly and well. Fortunately, he is of small stature.” + +Silas followed these words with an extreme anxiety. At last the Doctor, +his autopsy completed, took a chair and addressed the young American +with a smile. + +“Since I came into your room,” said he, “although my ears and my tongue +have been so busy, I have not suffered my eyes to remain idle. I noted +a little while ago that you have there, in the corner, one of those +monstrous constructions which your fellow-countrymen carry with them +into all quarters of the globe—in a word, a Saratoga trunk. Until this +moment I have never been able to conceive the utility of these +erections; but then I began to have a glimmer. Whether it was for +convenience in the slave trade, or to obviate the results of too ready +an employment of the bowie-knife, I cannot bring myself to decide. But +one thing I see plainly—the object of such a box is to contain a human +body. + +“Surely,” cried Silas, “surely this is not a time for jesting.” + +“Although I may express myself with some degree of pleasantry,” replied +the Doctor, “the purport of my words is entirely serious. And the first +thing we have to do, my young friend, is to empty your coffer of all +that it contains.” + +Silas, obeying the authority of Doctor Noel, put himself at his +disposition. The Saratoga trunk was soon gutted of its contents, which +made a considerable litter on the floor; and then—Silas taking the +heels and the Doctor supporting the shoulders—the body of the murdered +man was carried from the bed, and, after some difficulty, doubled up +and inserted whole into the empty box. With an effort on the part of +both, the lid was forced down upon this unusual baggage, and the trunk +was locked and corded by the Doctor’s own hand, while Silas disposed of +what had been taken out between the closet and a chest of drawers. + +“Now,” said the Doctor, “the first step has been taken on the way to +your deliverance. To-morrow, or rather to-day, it must be your task to +allay the suspicions of your porter, paying him all that you owe; while +you may trust me to make the arrangements necessary to a safe +conclusion. Meantime, follow me to my room, where I shall give you a +safe and powerful opiate; for, whatever you do, you must have rest.” + +The next day was the longest in Silas’s memory; it seemed as if it +would never be done. He denied himself to his friends, and sat in a +corner with his eyes fixed upon the Saratoga trunk in dismal +contemplation. His own former indiscretions were now returned upon him +in kind; for the observatory had been once more opened, and he was +conscious of an almost continual study from Madame Zéphyrine’s +apartment. So distressing did this become, that he was at last obliged +to block up the spy-hole from his own side; and when he was thus +secured from observation he spent a considerable portion of his time in +contrite tears and prayer. + +Late in the evening Dr. Noel entered the room carrying in his hand a +pair of sealed envelopes without address, one somewhat bulky, and the +other so slim as to seem without enclosure. + +“Silas,” he said, seating himself at the table, “the time has now come +for me to explain my plan for your salvation. To-morrow morning, at an +early hour, Prince Florizel of Bohemia returns to London, after having +diverted himself for a few days with the Parisian Carnival. It was my +fortune, a good while ago, to do Colonel Geraldine, his Master of the +Horse, one of those services, so common in my profession, which are +never forgotten upon either side. I have no need to explain to you the +nature of the obligation under which he was laid; suffice it to say +that I knew him ready to serve me in any practicable manner. Now, it +was necessary for you to gain London with your trunk unopened. To this +the Custom House seemed to oppose a fatal difficulty; but I bethought +me that the baggage of so considerable a person as the Prince, is, as a +matter of courtesy, passed without examination by the officers of +Custom. I applied to Colonel Geraldine, and succeeded in obtaining a +favourable answer. To-morrow, if you go before six to the hotel where +the Prince lodges, your baggage will be passed over as a part of his, +and you yourself will make the journey as a member of his suite.” + +“It seems to me, as you speak, that I have already seen both the Prince +and Colonel Geraldine; I even overheard some of their conversation the +other evening at the Bullier Ball.” + +“It is probable enough; for the Prince loves to mix with all +societies,” replied the Doctor. “Once arrived in London,” he pursued, +“your task is nearly ended. In this more bulky envelope I have given +you a letter which I dare not address; but in the other you will find +the designation of the house to which you must carry it along with your +box, which will there be taken from you and not trouble you any more.” + +“Alas!” said Silas, “I have every wish to believe you; but how is it +possible? You open up to me a bright prospect, but, I ask you, is my +mind capable of receiving so unlikely a solution? Be more generous, and +let me further understand your meaning.” + +The Doctor seemed painfully impressed. + +“Boy,” he answered, “you do not know how hard a thing you ask of me. +But be it so. I am now inured to humiliation; and it would be strange +if I refused you this, after having granted you so much. Know, then, +that although I now make so quiet an appearance—frugal, solitary, +addicted to study—when I was younger, my name was once a rallying-cry +among the most astute and dangerous spirits of London; and while I was +outwardly an object for respect and consideration, my true power +resided in the most secret, terrible, and criminal relations. It is to +one of the persons who then obeyed me that I now address myself to +deliver you from your burden. They were men of many different nations +and dexterities, all bound together by a formidable oath, and working +to the same purposes; the trade of the association was in murder; and I +who speak to you, innocent as I appear, was the chieftain of this +redoubtable crew.” + +“What?” cried Silas. “A murderer? And one with whom murder was a trade? +Can I take your hand? Ought I so much as to accept your services? Dark +and criminal old man, would you make an accomplice of my youth and my +distress?” + +The Doctor bitterly laughed. + +“You are difficult to please, Mr. Scuddamore,” said he; “but I now +offer you your choice of company between the murdered man and the +murderer. If your conscience is too nice to accept my aid, say so, and +I will immediately leave you. Thenceforward you can deal with your +trunk and its belongings as best suits your upright conscience.” + +“I own myself wrong,” replied Silas. “I should have remembered how +generously you offered to shield me, even before I had convinced you of +my innocence, and I continue to listen to your counsels with +gratitude.” + +“That is well,” returned the Doctor; “and I perceive you are beginning +to learn some of the lessons of experience.” + +“At the same time,” resumed the New-Englander, “as you confess yourself +accustomed to this tragical business, and the people to whom you +recommend me are your own former associates and friends, could you not +yourself undertake the transport of the box, and rid me at once of its +detested presence?” + +“Upon my word,” replied the Doctor, “I admire you cordially. If you do +not think I have already meddled sufficiently in your concerns, believe +me, from my heart I think the contrary. Take or leave my services as I +offer them; and trouble me with no more words of gratitude, for I value +your consideration even more lightly than I do your intellect. A time +will come, if you should be spared to see a number of years in health +of mind, when you will think differently of all this, and blush for +your to-night’s behaviour.” + +So saying, the Doctor arose from his chair, repeated his directions +briefly and clearly, and departed from the room without permitting +Silas any time to answer. + +The next morning Silas presented himself at the hotel, where he was +politely received by Colonel Geraldine, and relieved, from that moment, +of all immediate alarm about his trunk and its grisly contents. The +journey passed over without much incident, although the young man was +horrified to overhear the sailors and railway porters complaining among +themselves about the unusual weight of the Prince’s baggage. Silas +travelled in a carriage with the valets, for Prince Florizel chose to +be alone with his Master of the Horse. On board the steamer, however, +Silas attracted his Highness’s attention by the melancholy of his air +and attitude as he stood gazing at the pile of baggage; for he was +still full of disquietude about the future. + +“There is a young man,” observed the Prince, “who must have some cause +for sorrow.” + +“That,” replied Geraldine, “is the American for whom I obtained +permission to travel with your suite.” + +“You remind me that I have been remiss in courtesy,” said Prince +Florizel, and advancing to Silas, he addressed him with the most +exquisite condescension in these words:—“I was charmed, young sir, to +be able to gratify the desire you made known to me through Colonel +Geraldine. Remember, if you please, that I shall be glad at any future +time to lay you under a more serious obligation.” + +And he then put some questions as to the political condition of +America, which Silas answered with sense and propriety. + +“You are still a young man,” said the Prince; “but I observe you to be +very serious for your years. Perhaps you allow your attention to be too +much occupied with grave studies. But, perhaps, on the other hand, I am +myself indiscreet and touch upon a painful subject.” + +“I have certainly cause to be the most miserable of men,” said Silas; +“never has a more innocent person been more dismally abused.” + +“I will not ask you for your confidence,” returned Prince Florizel. +“But do not forget that Colonel Geraldine’s recommendation is an +unfailing passport; and that I am not only willing, but possibly more +able than many others, to do you a service.” + +Silas was delighted with the amiability of this great personage; but +his mind soon returned upon its gloomy preoccupations; for not even the +favour of a Prince to a Republican can discharge a brooding spirit of +its cares. + +The train arrived at Charing Cross, where the officers of the Revenue +respected the baggage of Prince Florizel in the usual manner. The most +elegant equipages were in waiting; and Silas was driven, along with the +rest, to the Prince’s residence. There Colonel Geraldine sought him +out, and expressed himself pleased to have been of any service to a +friend of the physician’s, for whom he professed a great consideration. + +“I hope,” he added, “that you will find none of your porcelain injured. +Special orders were given along the line to deal tenderly with the +Prince’s effects.” + +And then, directing the servants to place one of the carriages at the +young gentleman’s disposal, and at once to charge the Saratoga trunk +upon the dickey, the Colonel shook hands and excused himself on account +of his occupations in the princely household. + +Silas now broke the seal of the envelope containing the address, and +directed the stately footman to drive him to Box Court, opening off the +Strand. It seemed as if the place were not at all unknown to the man, +for he looked startled and begged a repetition of the order. It was +with a heart full of alarms, that Silas mounted into the luxurious +vehicle, and was driven to his destination. The entrance to Box Court +was too narrow for the passage of a coach; it was a mere footway +between railings, with a post at either end. On one of these posts was +seated a man, who at once jumped down and exchanged a friendly sign +with the driver, while the footman opened the door and inquired of +Silas whether he should take down the Saratoga trunk, and to what +number it should be carried. + +“If you please,” said Silas. “To number three.” + +The footman and the man who had been sitting on the post, even with the +aid of Silas himself, had hard work to carry in the trunk; and before +it was deposited at the door of the house in question, the young +American was horrified to find a score of loiterers looking on. But he +knocked with as good a countenance as he could muster up, and presented +the other envelope to him who opened. + +“He is not at home,” said he, “but if you will leave your letter and +return to-morrow early, I shall be able to inform you whether and when +he can receive your visit. Would you like to leave your box?” he added. + +“Dearly,” cried Silas; and the next moment he repented his +precipitation, and declared, with equal emphasis, that he would rather +carry the box along with him to the hotel. + +The crowd jeered at his indecision and followed him to the carriage +with insulting remarks; and Silas, covered with shame and terror, +implored the servants to conduct him to some quiet and comfortable +house of entertainment in the immediate neighbourhood. + +The Prince’s equipage deposited Silas at the Craven Hotel in Craven +Street, and immediately drove away, leaving him alone with the servants +of the inn. The only vacant room, it appeared, was a little den up four +pairs of stairs, and looking towards the back. To this hermitage, with +infinite trouble and complaint, a pair of stout porters carried the +Saratoga trunk. It is needless to mention that Silas kept closely at +their heels throughout the ascent, and had his heart in his mouth at +every corner. A single false step, he reflected, and the box might go +over the banisters and land its fatal contents, plainly discovered, on +the pavement of the hall. + +Arrived in the room, he sat down on the edge of his bed to recover from +the agony that he had just endured; but he had hardly taken his +position when he was recalled to a sense of his peril by the action of +the boots, who had knelt beside the trunk, and was proceeding +officiously to undo its elaborate fastenings. + +“Let it be!” cried Silas. “I shall want nothing from it while I stay +here.” + +“You might have let it lie in the hall, then,” growled the man; “a +thing as big and heavy as a church. What you have inside I cannot +fancy. If it is all money, you are a richer man than me.” + +“Money?” repeated Silas, in a sudden perturbation. “What do you mean by +money? I have no money, and you are speaking like a fool.” + +“All right, captain,” retorted the boots with a wink. “There’s nobody +will touch your lordship’s money. I’m as safe as the bank,” he added; +“but as the box is heavy, I shouldn’t mind drinking something to your +lordship’s health.” + +Silas pressed two Napoleons upon his acceptance, apologising, at the +same time, for being obliged to trouble him with foreign money, and +pleading his recent arrival for excuse. And the man, grumbling with +even greater fervour, and looking contemptuously from the money in his +hand to the Saratoga trunk and back again from the one to the other, at +last consented to withdraw. + +For nearly two days the dead body had been packed into Silas’s box; and +as soon as he was alone the unfortunate New-Englander nosed all the +cracks and openings with the most passionate attention. But the weather +was cool, and the trunk still managed to contain his shocking secret. + +He took a chair beside it, and buried his face in his hands, and his +mind in the most profound reflection. If he were not speedily relieved, +no question but he must be speedily discovered. Alone in a strange +city, without friends or accomplices, if the Doctor’s introduction +failed him, he was indubitably a lost New-Englander. He reflected +pathetically over his ambitious designs for the future; he should not +now become the hero and spokesman of his native place of Bangor, Maine; +he should not, as he had fondly anticipated, move on from office to +office, from honour to honour; he might as well divest himself at once +of all hope of being acclaimed President of the United States, and +leaving behind him a statue, in the worst possible style of art, to +adorn the Capitol at Washington. Here he was, chained to a dead +Englishman doubled up inside a Saratoga trunk; whom he must get rid of, +or perish from the rolls of national glory! + +I should be afraid to chronicle the language employed by this young man +to the Doctor, to the murdered man, to Madame Zéphyrine, to the boots +of the hotel, to the Prince’s servants, and, in a word, to all who had +been ever so remotely connected with his horrible misfortune. + +He slunk down to dinner about seven at night; but the yellow +coffee-room appalled him, the eyes of the other diners seemed to rest +on his with suspicion, and his mind remained upstairs with the Saratoga +trunk. When the waiter came to offer him cheese, his nerves were +already so much on edge that he leaped half-way out of his chair and +upset the remainder of a pint of ale upon the table-cloth. + +The fellow offered to show him to the smoking-room when he had done; +and although he would have much preferred to return at once to his +perilous treasure, he had not the courage to refuse, and was shown +downstairs to the black, gas-lit cellar, which formed, and possibly +still forms, the divan of the Craven Hotel. + +Two very sad betting men were playing billiards, attended by a moist, +consumptive marker; and for the moment Silas imagined that these were +the only occupants of the apartment. But at the next glance his eye +fell upon a person smoking in the farthest corner, with lowered eyes +and a most respectable and modest aspect. He knew at once that he had +seen the face before; and, in spite of the entire change of clothes, +recognised the man whom he had found seated on a post at the entrance +to Box Court, and who had helped him to carry the trunk to and from the +carriage. The New-Englander simply turned and ran, nor did he pause +until he had locked and bolted himself into his bedroom. + +There, all night long, a prey to the most terrible imaginations, he +watched beside the fatal boxful of dead flesh. The suggestion of the +boots that his trunk was full of gold inspired him with all manner of +new terrors, if he so much as dared to close an eye; and the presence +in the smoking-room, and under an obvious disguise, of the loiterer +from Box Court convinced him that he was once more the centre of +obscure machinations. + +Midnight had sounded some time, when, impelled by uneasy suspicions, +Silas opened his bedroom door and peered into the passage. It was dimly +illuminated by a single jet of gas; and some distance off he perceived +a man sleeping on the floor in the costume of an hotel under-servant. +Silas drew near the man on tiptoe. He lay partly on his back, partly on +his side, and his right forearm concealed his face from recognition. +Suddenly, while the American was still bending over him, the sleeper +removed his arm and opened his eyes, and Silas found himself once more +face to face with the loiterer of Box Court. + +“Good-night, sir,” said the man, pleasantly. + +But Silas was too profoundly moved to find an answer, and regained his +room in silence. + +Towards morning, worn out by apprehension, he fell asleep on his chair, +with his head forward on the trunk. In spite of so constrained an +attitude and such a grisly pillow, his slumber was sound and prolonged, +and he was only awakened at a late hour and by a sharp tapping at the +door. + +He hurried to open, and found the boots without. + +“You are the gentleman who called yesterday at Box Court?” he asked. + +Silas, with a quaver, admitted that he had done so. + +“Then this note is for you,” added the servant, proffering a sealed +envelope. + +Silas tore it open, and found inside the words: “Twelve o’clock.” + +He was punctual to the hour; the trunk was carried before him by +several stout servants; and he was himself ushered into a room, where a +man sat warming himself before the fire with his back towards the door. +The sound of so many persons entering and leaving, and the scraping of +the trunk as it was deposited upon the bare boards, were alike unable +to attract the notice of the occupant; and Silas stood waiting, in an +agony of fear, until he should deign to recognise his presence. + +Perhaps five minutes had elapsed before the man turned leisurely about, +and disclosed the features of Prince Florizel of Bohemia. + +“So, sir,” he said, with great severity, “this is the manner in which +you abuse my politeness. You join yourselves to persons of condition, I +perceive, for no other purpose than to escape the consequences of your +crimes; and I can readily understand your embarrassment when I +addressed myself to you yesterday.” + +“Indeed,” cried Silas, “I am innocent of everything except misfortune.” + +And in a hurried voice, and with the greatest ingenuousness, he +recounted to the Prince the whole history of his calamity. + +“I see I have been mistaken,” said his Highness, when he had heard him +to an end. “You are no other than a victim, and since I am not to +punish you may be sure I shall do my utmost to help. And now,” he +continued, “to business. Open your box at once, and let me see what it +contains.” + +Silas changed colour. + +“I almost fear to look upon it,” he exclaimed. + +“Nay,” replied the Prince, “have you not looked at it already? This is +a form of sentimentality to be resisted. The sight of a sick man, whom +we can still help, should appeal more directly to the feelings than +that of a dead man who is equally beyond help or harm, love or hatred. +Nerve yourself, Mr. Scuddamore,” and then, seeing that Silas still +hesitated, “I do not desire to give another name to my request,” he +added. + +The young American awoke as if out of a dream, and with a shiver of +repugnance addressed himself to loose the straps and open the lock of +the Saratoga trunk. The Prince stood by, watching with a composed +countenance and his hands behind his back. The body was quite stiff, +and it cost Silas a great effort, both moral and physical, to dislodge +it from its position, and discover the face. + +Prince Florizel started back with an exclamation of painful surprise. + +“Alas!” he cried, “you little know, Mr. Scuddamore, what a cruel gift +you have brought me. This is a young man of my own suite, the brother +of my trusted friend; and it was upon matters of my own service that he +has thus perished at the hands of violent and treacherous men. Poor +Geraldine,” he went on, as if to himself, “in what words am I to tell +you of your brother’s fate? How can I excuse myself in your eyes, or in +the eyes of God, for the presumptuous schemes that led him to this +bloody and unnatural death? Ah, Florizel! Florizel! when will you learn +the discretion that suits mortal life, and be no longer dazzled with +the image of power at your disposal? Power!” he cried; “who is more +powerless? I look upon this young man whom I have sacrificed, Mr. +Scuddamore, and feel how small a thing it is to be a Prince.” + +Silas was moved at the sight of his emotion. He tried to murmur some +consolatory words, and burst into tears. + +The Prince, touched by his obvious intention, came up to him and took +him by the hand. + +“Command yourself,” said he. “We have both much to learn, and we shall +both be better men for to-day’s meeting.” + +Silas thanked him in silence with an affectionate look. + +“Write me the address of Doctor Noel on this piece of paper,” continued +the Prince, leading him towards the table; “and let me recommend you, +when you are again in Paris, to avoid the society of that dangerous +man. He has acted in this matter on a generous inspiration; that I must +believe; had he been privy to young Geraldine’s death he would never +have despatched the body to the care of the actual criminal.” + +“The actual criminal!” repeated Silas in astonishment. + +“Even so,” returned the Prince. “This letter, which the disposition of +Almighty Providence has so strangely delivered into my hands, was +addressed to no less a person than the criminal himself, the infamous +President of the Suicide Club. Seek to pry no further in these perilous +affairs, but content yourself with your own miraculous escape, and +leave this house at once. I have pressing affairs, and must arrange at +once about this poor clay, which was so lately a gallant and handsome +youth.” + +Silas took a grateful and submissive leave of Prince Florizel, but he +lingered in Box Court until he saw him depart in a splendid carriage on +a visit to Colonel Henderson of the police. Republican as he was, the +young American took off his hat with almost a sentiment of devotion to +the retreating carriage. And the same night he started by rail on his +return to Paris. + + +_Here_ (observes my Arabian author) _is the end of_ The History of the +Physician and the Saratoga Trunk. _Omitting some reflections on the +power of Providence_, _highly pertinent in the original_, _but little +suited to our occiddental taste_, _I shall only add that Mr. Scuddamore +has already begun to mount the ladder of political fame_, _and by last +advices was the Sheriff of his native town_. + + + + +THE ADVENTURE OF THE HANSOM CABS + + +Lieutenant Brackenbury Rich had greatly distinguished himself in one of +the lesser Indian hill wars. He it was who took the chieftain prisoner +with his own hand; his gallantry was universally applauded; and when he +came home, prostrated by an ugly sabre cut and a protracted jungle +fever, society was prepared to welcome the Lieutenant as a celebrity of +minor lustre. But his was a character remarkable for unaffected +modesty; adventure was dear to his heart, but he cared little for +adulation; and he waited at foreign watering-places and in Algiers +until the fame of his exploits had run through its nine days’ vitality +and begun to be forgotten. He arrived in London at last, in the early +season, with as little observation as he could desire; and as he was an +orphan and had none but distant relatives who lived in the provinces, +it was almost as a foreigner that he installed himself in the capital +of the country for which he had shed his blood. + +On the day following his arrival he dined alone at a military club. He +shook hands with a few old comrades, and received their warm +congratulations; but as one and all had some engagement for the +evening, he found himself left entirely to his own resources. He was in +dress, for he had entertained the notion of visiting a theatre. But the +great city was new to him; he had gone from a provincial school to a +military college, and thence direct to the Eastern Empire; and he +promised himself a variety of delights in this world for exploration. +Swinging his cane, he took his way westward. It was a mild evening, +already dark, and now and then threatening rain. The succession of +faces in the lamplight stirred the Lieutenant’s imagination; and it +seemed to him as if he could walk for ever in that stimulating city +atmosphere and surrounded by the mystery of four million private lives. +He glanced at the houses, and marvelled what was passing behind those +warmly-lighted windows; he looked into face after face, and saw them +each intent upon some unknown interest, criminal or kindly. + +“They talk of war,” he thought, “but this is the great battlefield of +mankind.” + +And then he began to wonder that he should walk so long in this +complicated scene, and not chance upon so much as the shadow of an +adventure for himself. + +“All in good time,” he reflected. “I am still a stranger, and perhaps +wear a strange air. But I must be drawn into the eddy before long.” + +The night was already well advanced when a plump of cold rain fell +suddenly out of the darkness. Brackenbury paused under some trees, and +as he did so he caught sight of a hansom cabman making him a sign that +he was disengaged. The circumstance fell in so happily to the occasion +that he at once raised his cane in answer, and had soon ensconced +himself in the London gondola. + +“Where to, sir?” asked the driver. + +“Where you please,” said Brackenbury. + +And immediately, at a pace of surprising swiftness, the hansom drove +off through the rain into a maze of villas. One villa was so like +another, each with its front garden, and there was so little to +distinguish the deserted lamp-lit streets and crescents through which +the flying hansom took its way, that Brackenbury soon lost all idea of +direction. + +He would have been tempted to believe that the cabman was amusing +himself by driving him round and round and in and out about a small +quarter, but there was something business-like in the speed which +convinced him of the contrary. The man had an object in view, he was +hastening towards a definite end; and Brackenbury was at once +astonished at the fellow’s skill in picking a way through such a +labyrinth, and a little concerned to imagine what was the occasion of +his hurry. He had heard tales of strangers falling ill in London. Did +the driver belong to some bloody and treacherous association? and was +he himself being whirled to a murderous death? + +The thought had scarcely presented itself, when the cab swung sharply +round a corner and pulled up before the garden gate of a villa in a +long and wide road. The house was brilliantly lighted up. Another +hansom had just driven away, and Brackenbury could see a gentleman +being admitted at the front door and received by several liveried +servants. He was surprised that the cabman should have stopped so +immediately in front of a house where a reception was being held; but +he did not doubt it was the result of accident, and sat placidly +smoking where he was, until he heard the trap thrown open over his +head. + +“Here we are, sir,” said the driver. + +“Here!” repeated Brackenbury. “Where?” + +“You told me to take you where I pleased, sir,” returned the man with a +chuckle, “and here we are.” + +It struck Brackenbury that the voice was wonderfully smooth and +courteous for a man in so inferior a position; he remembered the speed +at which he had been driven; and now it occurred to him that the hansom +was more luxuriously appointed than the common run of public +conveyances. + +“I must ask you to explain,” said he. “Do you mean to turn me out into +the rain? My good man, I suspect the choice is mine.” + +“The choice is certainly yours,” replied the driver; “but when I tell +you all, I believe I know how a gentleman of your figure will decide. +There is a gentlemen’s party in this house. I do not know whether the +master be a stranger to London and without acquaintances of his own; or +whether he is a man of odd notions. But certainly I was hired to kidnap +single gentlemen in evening dress, as many as I pleased, but military +officers by preference. You have simply to go in and say that Mr. +Morris invited you.” + +“Are you Mr. Morris?” inquired the Lieutenant. + +“Oh, no,” replied the cabman. “Mr. Morris is the person of the house.” + +“It is not a common way of collecting guests,” said Brackenbury: “but +an eccentric man might very well indulge the whim without any intention +to offend. And suppose that I refuse Mr. Morris’s invitation,” he went +on, “what then?” + +“My orders are to drive you back where I took you from,” replied the +man, “and set out to look for others up to midnight. Those who have no +fancy for such an adventure, Mr. Morris said, were not the guests for +him.” + +These words decided the Lieutenant on the spot. + +“After all,” he reflected, as he descended from the hansom, “I have not +had long to wait for my adventure.” + +He had hardly found footing on the side-walk, and was still feeling in +his pocket for the fare, when the cab swung about and drove off by the +way it came at the former break-neck velocity. Brackenbury shouted +after the man, who paid no heed, and continued to drive away; but the +sound of his voice was overheard in the house, the door was again +thrown open, emitting a flood of light upon the garden, and a servant +ran down to meet him holding an umbrella. + +“The cabman has been paid,” observed the servant in a very civil tone; +and he proceeded to escort Brackenbury along the path and up the steps. +In the hall several other attendants relieved him of his hat, cane, and +paletot, gave him a ticket with a number in return, and politely +hurried him up a stair adorned with tropical flowers, to the door of an +apartment on the first storey. Here a grave butler inquired his name, +and announcing “Lieutenant Brackenbury Rich,” ushered him into the +drawing-room of the house. + +A young man, slender and singularly handsome, came forward and greeted +him with an air at once courtly and affectionate. Hundreds of candles, +of the finest wax, lit up a room that was perfumed, like the staircase, +with a profusion of rare and beautiful flowering shrubs. A side-table +was loaded with tempting viands. Several servants went to and fro with +fruits and goblets of champagne. The company was perhaps sixteen in +number, all men, few beyond the prime of life, and with hardly an +exception, of a dashing and capable exterior. They were divided into +two groups, one about a roulette board, and the other surrounding a +table at which one of their number held a bank of baccarat. + +“I see,” thought Brackenbury, “I am in a private gambling saloon, and +the cabman was a tout.” + +His eye had embraced the details, and his mind formed the conclusion, +while his host was still holding him by the hand; and to him his looks +returned from this rapid survey. At a second view Mr. Morris surprised +him still more than on the first. The easy elegance of his manners, the +distinction, amiability, and courage that appeared upon his features, +fitted very ill with the Lieutenant’s preconceptions on the subject of +the proprietor of a hell; and the tone of his conversation seemed to +mark him out for a man of position and merit. Brackenbury found he had +an instinctive liking for his entertainer; and though he chid himself +for the weakness, he was unable to resist a sort of friendly attraction +for Mr. Morris’s person and character. + +“I have heard of you, Lieutenant Rich,” said Mr. Morris, lowering his +tone; “and believe me I am gratified to make your acquaintance. Your +looks accord with the reputation that has preceded you from India. And +if you will forget for a while the irregularity of your presentation in +my house, I shall feel it not only an honour, but a genuine pleasure +besides. A man who makes a mouthful of barbarian cavaliers,” he added +with a laugh, “should not be appalled by a breach of etiquette, however +serious.” + +And he led him towards the sideboard and pressed him to partake of some +refreshment. + +“Upon my word,” the Lieutenant reflected, “this is one of the +pleasantest fellows and, I do not doubt, one of the most agreeable +societies in London.” + +He partook of some champagne, which he found excellent; and observing +that many of the company were already smoking, he lit one of his own +Manillas, and strolled up to the roulette board, where he sometimes +made a stake and sometimes looked on smilingly on the fortune of +others. It was while he was thus idling that he became aware of a sharp +scrutiny to which the whole of the guests were subjected. Mr. Morris +went here and there, ostensibly busied on hospitable concerns; but he +had ever a shrewd glance at disposal; not a man of the party escaped +his sudden, searching looks; he took stock of the bearing of heavy +losers, he valued the amount of the stakes, he paused behind couples +who were deep in conversation; and, in a word, there was hardly a +characteristic of any one present but he seemed to catch and make a +note of it. Brackenbury began to wonder if this were indeed a gambling +hell: it had so much the air of a private inquisition. He followed Mr. +Morris in all his movements; and although the man had a ready smile, he +seemed to perceive, as it were under a mask, a haggard, careworn, and +preoccupied spirit. The fellows around him laughed and made their game; +but Brackenbury had lost interest in the guests. + +“This Morris,” thought he, “is no idler in the room. Some deep purpose +inspires him; let it be mine to fathom it.” + +Now and then Mr. Morris would call one of his visitors aside; and after +a brief colloquy in an ante-room, he would return alone, and the +visitors in question reappeared no more. After a certain number of +repetitions, this performance excited Brackenbury’s curiosity to a high +degree. He determined to be at the bottom of this minor mystery at +once; and strolling into the ante-room, found a deep window recess +concealed by curtains of the fashionable green. Here he hurriedly +ensconced himself; nor had he to wait long before the sound of steps +and voices drew near him from the principal apartment. Peering through +the division, he saw Mr. Morris escorting a fat and ruddy personage, +with somewhat the look of a commercial traveller, whom Brackenbury had +already remarked for his coarse laugh and under-bred behaviour at the +table. The pair halted immediately before the window, so that +Brackenbury lost not a word of the following discourse:— + +“I beg you a thousand pardons!” began Mr. Morris, with the most +conciliatory manner; “and, if I appear rude, I am sure you will readily +forgive me. In a place so great as London accidents must continually +happen; and the best that we can hope is to remedy them with as small +delay as possible. I will not deny that I fear you have made a mistake +and honoured my poor house by inadvertence; for, to speak openly, I +cannot at all remember your appearance. Let me put the question without +unnecessary circumlocution—between gentlemen of honour a word will +suffice—Under whose roof do you suppose yourself to be?” + +“That of Mr. Morris,” replied the other, with a prodigious display of +confusion, which had been visibly growing upon him throughout the last +few words. + +“Mr. John or Mr. James Morris?” inquired the host. + +“I really cannot tell you,” returned the unfortunate guest. “I am not +personally acquainted with the gentleman, any more than I am with +yourself.” + +“I see,” said Mr. Morris. “There is another person of the same name +farther down the street; and I have no doubt the policeman will be able +to supply you with his number. Believe me, I felicitate myself on the +misunderstanding which has procured me the pleasure of your company for +so long; and let me express a hope that we may meet again upon a more +regular footing. Meantime, I would not for the world detain you longer +from your friends. John,” he added, raising his voice, “will you see +that this gentleman finds his great-coat?” + +And with the most agreeable air Mr. Morris escorted his visitor as far +as the ante-room door, where he left him under conduct of the butler. +As he passed the window, on his return to the drawing-room, Brackenbury +could hear him utter a profound sigh, as though his mind was loaded +with a great anxiety, and his nerves already fatigued with the task on +which he was engaged. + +For perhaps an hour the hansoms kept arriving with such frequency, that +Mr. Morris had to receive a new guest for every old one that he sent +away, and the company preserved its number undiminished. But towards +the end of that time the arrivals grew few and far between, and at +length ceased entirely, while the process of elimination was continued +with unimpaired activity. The drawing-room began to look empty: the +baccarat was discontinued for lack of a banker; more than one person +said good-night of his own accord, and was suffered to depart without +expostulation; and in the meanwhile Mr. Morris redoubled in agreeable +attentions to those who stayed behind. He went from group to group and +from person to person with looks of the readiest sympathy and the most +pertinent and pleasing talk; he was not so much like a host as like a +hostess, and there was a feminine coquetry and condescension in his +manner which charmed the hearts of all. + +As the guests grew thinner, Lieutenant Rich strolled for a moment out +of the drawing-room into the hall in quest of fresher air. But he had +no sooner passed the threshold of the ante-chamber than he was brought +to a dead halt by a discovery of the most surprising nature. The +flowering shrubs had disappeared from the staircase; three large +furniture waggons stood before the garden gate; the servants were busy +dismantling the house upon all sides; and some of them had already +donned their great-coats and were preparing to depart. It was like the +end of a country ball, where everything has been supplied by contract. +Brackenbury had indeed some matter for reflection. First, the guests, +who were no real guests after all, had been dismissed; and now the +servants, who could hardly be genuine servants, were actively +dispersing. + +‘“Was the whole establishment a sham?” he asked himself. “The mushroom +of a single night which should disappear before morning?” + +Watching a favourable opportunity, Brackenbury dashed upstairs to the +highest regions of the house. It was as he had expected. He ran from +room to room, and saw not a stick of furniture nor so much as a picture +on the walls. Although the house had been painted and papered, it was +not only uninhabited at present, but plainly had never been inhabited +at all. The young officer remembered with astonishment its specious, +settled, and hospitable air on his arrival. It was only at a prodigious +cost that the imposture could have been carried out upon so great a +scale. + +Who, then, was Mr. Morris? What was his intention in thus playing the +householder for a single night in the remote west of London? And why +did he collect his visitors at hazard from the streets? + +Brackenbury remembered that he had already delayed too long, and +hastened to join the company. Many had left during his absence; and +counting the Lieutenant and his host, there were not more than five +persons in the drawing-room—recently so thronged. Mr. Morris greeted +him, as he re-entered the apartment, with a smile, and immediately rose +to his feet. + +“It is now time, gentlemen,” said he, “to explain my purpose in +decoying you from your amusements. I trust you did not find the evening +hang very dully on your hands; but my object, I will confess it, was +not to entertain your leisure, but to help myself in an unfortunate +necessity. You are all gentlemen,” he continued, “your appearance does +you that much justice, and I ask for no better security. Hence, I speak +it without concealment, I ask you to render me a dangerous and delicate +service; dangerous because you may run the hazard of your lives, and +delicate because I must ask an absolute discretion upon all that you +shall see or hear. From an utter stranger the request is almost +comically extravagant; I am well aware of this; and I would add at +once, if there be any one present who has heard enough, if there be one +among the party who recoils from a dangerous confidence and a piece of +Quixotic devotion to he knows not whom—here is my hand ready, and I +shall wish him good-night and God-speed with all the sincerity in the +world.” + +A very tall, black man, with a heavy stoop, immediately responded to +this appeal. + +“I commend your frankness, Sir,” said he; “and, for my part, I go. I +make no reflections; but I cannot deny that you fill me with suspicious +thoughts. I go myself, as I say; and perhaps you will think I have no +right to add words to my example.” + +“On the contrary,” replied Mr. Morris, “I am obliged to you for all you +say. It would be impossible to exaggerate the gravity of my proposal.” + +“Well, gentlemen, what do you say?” said the tall man, addressing the +others. “We have had our evening’s frolic; shall we all go homeward +peaceably in a body? You will think well of my suggestion in the +morning, when you see the sun again in innocence and safety.” + +The speaker pronounced the last words with an intonation which added to +their force; and his face wore a singular expression, full of gravity +and significance. Another of the company rose hastily, and, with some +appearance of alarm, prepared to take his leave. There were only two +who held their ground, Brackenbury and an old red-nosed cavalry Major; +but these two preserved a nonchalant demeanour, and, beyond a look of +intelligence which they rapidly exchanged, appeared entirely foreign to +the discussion that had just been terminated. + +Mr. Morris conducted the deserters as far as the door, which he closed +upon their heels; then he turned round, disclosing a countenance of +mingled relief and animation, and addressed the two officers as +follows. + +“I have chosen my men like Joshua in the Bible,” said Mr. Morris, “and +I now believe I have the pick of London. Your appearance pleased my +hansom cabmen; then it delighted me; I have watched your behaviour in a +strange company, and under the most unusual circumstances: I have +studied how you played and how you bore your losses; lastly, I have put +you to the test of a staggering announcement, and you received it like +an invitation to dinner. It is not for nothing,” he cried, “that I have +been for years the companion and the pupil of the bravest and wisest +potentate in Europe.” + +“At the affair of Bunderchang,” observed the Major, “I asked for twelve +volunteers, and every trooper in the ranks replied to my appeal. But a +gaming party is not the same thing as a regiment under fire. You may be +pleased, I suppose, to have found two, and two who will not fail you at +a push. As for the pair who ran away, I count them among the most +pitiful hounds I ever met with. Lieutenant Rich,” he added, addressing +Brackenbury, “I have heard much of you of late; and I cannot doubt but +you have also heard of me. I am Major O’Rooke.” + +And the veteran tendered his hand, which was red and tremulous, to the +young Lieutenant. + +“Who has not?” answered Brackenbury. + +“When this little matter is settled,” said Mr. Morris, “you will think +I have sufficiently rewarded you; for I could offer neither a more +valuable service than to make him acquainted with the other.” + +“And now,” said Major O’Rooke, “is it a duel?” + +“A duel after a fashion,” replied Mr. Morris, “a duel with unknown and +dangerous enemies, and, as I gravely fear, a duel to the death. I must +ask you,” he continued, “to call me Morris no longer; call me, if you +please, Hammersmith; my real name, as well as that of another person to +whom I hope to present you before long, you will gratify me by not +asking and not seeking to discover for yourselves. Three days ago the +person of whom I speak disappeared suddenly from home; and, until this +morning, I received no hint of his situation. You will fancy my alarm +when I tell you that he is engaged upon a work of private justice. +Bound by an unhappy oath, too lightly sworn, he finds it necessary, +without the help of law, to rid the earth of an insidious and bloody +villain. Already two of our friends, and one of them my own born +brother, have perished in the enterprise. He himself, or I am much +deceived, is taken in the same fatal toils. But at least he still lives +and still hopes, as this billet sufficiently proves.” + +And the speaker, no other than Colonel Geraldine, proffered a letter, +thus conceived:— + +“Major Hammersmith,—On Wednesday, at 3 A.M., you will be admitted by +the small door to the gardens of Rochester House, Regent’s Park, by a +man who is entirely in my interest. I must request you not to fail me +by a second. Pray bring my case of swords, and, if you can find them, +one or two gentlemen of conduct and discretion to whom my person is +unknown. My name must not be used in this affair. + + +T. Godall.” + + +“From his wisdom alone, if he had no other title,” pursued Colonel +Geraldine, when the others had each satisfied his curiosity, “my friend +is a man whose directions should implicitly be followed. I need not +tell you, therefore, that I have not so much as visited the +neighbourhood of Rochester House; and that I am still as wholly in the +dark as either of yourselves as to the nature of my friend’s dilemma. I +betook myself, as soon as I had received this order, to a furnishing +contractor, and, in a few hours, the house in which we now are had +assumed its late air of festival. My scheme was at least original; and +I am far from regretting an action which has procured me the services +of Major O’Rooke and Lieutenant Brackenbury Rich. But the servants in +the street will have a strange awakening. The house which this evening +was full of lights and visitors they will find uninhabited and for sale +to-morrow morning. Thus even the most serious concerns,” added the +Colonel, “have a merry side.” + +“And let us add a merry ending,” said Brackenbury. + +The Colonel consulted his watch. + +“It is now hard on two,” he said. “We have an hour before us, and a +swift cab is at the door. Tell me if I may count upon your help.” + +“During a long life,” replied Major O’Rooke, “I never took back my hand +from anything, nor so much as hedged a bet.” + +Brackenbury signified his readiness in the most becoming terms; and +after they had drunk a glass or two of wine, the Colonel gave each of +them a loaded revolver, and the three mounted into the cab and drove +off for the address in question. + +Rochester House was a magnificent residence on the banks of the canal. +The large extent of the garden isolated it in an unusual degree from +the annoyances of neighbourhood. It seemed the _parc aux cerfs_ of some +great nobleman or millionaire. As far as could be seen from the street, +there was not a glimmer of light in any of the numerous windows of the +mansion; and the place had a look of neglect, as though the master had +been long from home. + +The cab was discharged, and the three gentlemen were not long in +discovering the small door, which was a sort of postern in a lane +between two garden walls. It still wanted ten or fifteen minutes of the +appointed time; the rain fell heavily, and the adventurers sheltered +themselves below some pendant ivy, and spoke in low tones of the +approaching trial. + +Suddenly Geraldine raised his finger to command silence, and all three +bent their hearing to the utmost. Through the continuous noise of the +rain, the steps and voices of two men became audible from the other +side of the wall; and, as they drew nearer, Brackenbury, whose sense of +hearing was remarkably acute, could even distinguish some fragments of +their talk. + +“Is the grave dug?” asked one. + +“It is,” replied the other; “behind the laurel hedge. When the job is +done, we can cover it with a pile of stakes.” + +The first speaker laughed, and the sound of his merriment was shocking +to the listeners on the other side. + +“In an hour from now,” he said. + +And by the sound of the steps it was obvious that the pair had +separated, and were proceeding in contrary directions. + +Almost immediately after the postern door was cautiously opened, a +white face was protruded into the lane, and a hand was seen beckoning +to the watchers. In dead silence the three passed the door, which was +immediately locked behind them, and followed their guide through +several garden alleys to the kitchen entrance of the house. A single +candle burned in the great paved kitchen, which was destitute of the +customary furniture; and as the party proceeded to ascend from thence +by a flight of winding stairs, a prodigious noise of rats testified +still more plainly to the dilapidation of the house. + +Their conductor preceded them, carrying the candle. He was a lean man, +much bent, but still agile; and he turned from time to time and +admonished silence and caution by his gestures. Colonel Geraldine +followed on his heels, the case of swords under one arm, and a pistol +ready in the other. Brackenbury’s heart beat thickly. He perceived that +they were still in time; but he judged from the alacrity of the old man +that the hour of action must be near at hand; and the circumstances of +this adventure were so obscure and menacing, the place seemed so well +chosen for the darkest acts, that an older man than Brackenbury might +have been pardoned a measure of emotion as he closed the procession up +the winding stair. + +At the top the guide threw open a door and ushered the three officers +before him into a small apartment, lighted by a smoky lamp and the glow +of a modest fire. At the chimney corner sat a man in the early prime of +life, and of a stout but courtly and commanding appearance. His +attitude and expression were those of the most unmoved composure; he +was smoking a cheroot with much enjoyment and deliberation, and on a +table by his elbow stood a long glass of some effervescing beverage +which diffused an agreeable odour through the room. + +“Welcome,” said he, extending his hand to Colonel Geraldine. “I knew I +might count on your exactitude.” + +“On my devotion,” replied the Colonel, with a bow. + +“Present me to your friends,” continued the first; and, when that +ceremony had been performed, “I wish, gentlemen,” he added, with the +most exquisite affability, “that I could offer you a more cheerful +programme; it is ungracious to inaugurate an acquaintance upon serious +affairs; but the compulsion of events is stronger than the obligations +of good-fellowship. I hope and believe you will be able to forgive me +this unpleasant evening; and for men of your stamp it will be enough to +know that you are conferring a considerable favour.” + +“Your Highness,” said the Major, “must pardon my bluntness. I am unable +to hide what I know. For some time back I have suspected Major +Hammersmith, but Mr. Godall is unmistakable. To seek two men in London +unacquainted with Prince Florizel of Bohemia was to ask too much at +Fortune’s hands.” + +“Prince Florizel!” cried Brackenbury in amazement. + +And he gazed with the deepest interest on the features of the +celebrated personage before him. + +“I shall not lament the loss of my incognito,” remarked the Prince, +“for it enables me to thank you with the more authority. You would have +done as much for Mr. Godall, I feel sure, as for the Prince of Bohemia; +but the latter can perhaps do more for you. The gain is mine,” he +added, with a courteous gesture. + +And the next moment he was conversing with the two officers about the +Indian army and the native troops, a subject on which, as on all +others, he had a remarkable fund of information and the soundest views. + +There was something so striking in this man’s attitude at a moment of +deadly peril that Brackenbury was overcome with respectful admiration; +nor was he less sensible to the charm of his conversation or the +surprising amenity of his address. Every gesture, every intonation, was +not only noble in itself, but seemed to ennoble the fortunate mortal +for whom it was intended; and Brackenbury confessed to himself with +enthusiasm that this was a sovereign for whom a brave man might +thankfully lay down his life. + +Many minutes had thus passed, when the person who had introduced them +into the house, and who had sat ever since in a corner, and with his +watch in his hand, arose and whispered a word into the Prince’s ear. + +“It is well, Dr. Noel,” replied Florizel, aloud; and then addressing +the others, “You will excuse me, gentlemen,” he added, “if I have to +leave you in the dark. The moment now approaches.” + +Dr. Noel extinguished the lamp. A faint, grey light, premonitory of the +dawn, illuminated the window, but was not sufficient to illuminate the +room; and when the Prince rose to his feet, it was impossible to +distinguish his features or to make a guess at the nature of the +emotion which obviously affected him as he spoke. He moved towards the +door, and placed himself at one side of it in an attitude of the +wariest attention. + +“You will have the kindness,” he said, “to maintain the strictest +silence, and to conceal yourselves in the densest of the shadow.” + +The three officers and the physician hastened to obey, and for nearly +ten minutes the only sound in Rochester House was occasioned by the +excursions of the rats behind the woodwork. At the end of that period, +a loud creak of a hinge broke in with surprising distinctness on the +silence; and shortly after, the watchers could distinguish a slow and +cautious tread approaching up the kitchen stair. At every second step +the intruder seemed to pause and lend an ear, and during these +intervals, which seemed of an incalculable duration, a profound +disquiet possessed the spirit of the listeners. Dr. Noel, accustomed as +he was to dangerous emotions, suffered an almost pitiful physical +prostration; his breath whistled in his lungs, his teeth grated one +upon another, and his joints cracked aloud as he nervously shifted his +position. + +At last a hand was laid upon the door, and the bolt shot back with a +slight report. There followed another pause, during which Brackenbury +could see the Prince draw himself together noiselessly as if for some +unusual exertion. Then the door opened, letting in a little more of the +light of the morning; and the figure of a man appeared upon the +threshold and stood motionless. He was tall, and carried a knife in his +hand. Even in the twilight they could see his upper teeth bare and +glistening, for his mouth was open like that of a hound about to leap. +The man had evidently been over the head in water but a minute or two +before; and even while he stood there the drops kept falling from his +wet clothes and pattered on the floor. + +The next moment he crossed the threshold. There was a leap, a stifled +cry, an instantaneous struggle; and before Colonel Geraldine could +spring to his aid, the Prince held the man disarmed and helpless, by +the shoulders. + +“Dr. Noel,” he said, “you will be so good as to re-light the lamp.” + +And relinquishing the charge of his prisoner to Geraldine and +Brackenbury, he crossed the room and set his back against the +chimney-piece. As soon as the lamp had kindled, the party beheld an +unaccustomed sternness on the Prince’s features. It was no longer +Florizel, the careless gentleman; it was the Prince of Bohemia, justly +incensed and full of deadly purpose, who now raised his head and +addressed the captive President of the Suicide Club. + +“President,” he said, “you have laid your last snare, and your own feet +are taken in it. The day is beginning; it is your last morning. You +have just swum the Regent’s Canal; it is your last bathe in this world. +Your old accomplice, Dr. Noel, so far from betraying me, has delivered +you into my hands for judgment. And the grave you had dug for me this +afternoon shall serve, in God’s almighty providence, to hide your own +just doom from the curiosity of mankind. Kneel and pray, sir, if you +have a mind that way; for your time is short, and God is weary of your +iniquities.” + +The President made no answer either by word or sign; but continued to +hang his head and gaze sullenly on the floor, as though he were +conscious of the Prince’s prolonged and unsparing regard. + +“Gentlemen,” continued Florizel, resuming the ordinary tone of his +conversation, “this is a fellow who has long eluded me, but whom, +thanks to Dr. Noel, I now have tightly by the heels. To tell the story +of his misdeeds would occupy more time than we can now afford; but if +the canal had contained nothing but the blood of his victims, I believe +the wretch would have been no drier than you see him. Even in an affair +of this sort I desire to preserve the forms of honour. But I make you +the judges, gentlemen—this is more an execution than a duel and to give +the rogue his choice of weapons would be to push too far a point of +etiquette. I cannot afford to lose my life in such a business,” he +continued, unlocking the case of swords; “and as a pistol-bullet +travels so often on the wings of chance, and skill and courage may fall +by the most trembling marksman, I have decided, and I feel sure you +will approve my determination, to put this question to the touch of +swords.” + +When Brackenbury and Major O’Rooke, to whom these remarks were +particularly addressed, had each intimated his approval, “Quick, sir,” +added Prince Florizel to the President, “choose a blade and do not keep +me waiting; I have an impatience to be done with you for ever.” + +For the first time since he was captured and disarmed the President +raised his head, and it was plain that he began instantly to pluck up +courage. + +“Is it to be stand up?” he asked eagerly, “and between you and me?” + +“I mean so far to honour you,” replied the Prince. + +“Oh, come!” cried the President. “With a fair field, who knows how +things may happen? I must add that I consider it handsome behaviour on +your Highness’s part; and if the worst comes to the worst I shall die +by one of the most gallant gentlemen in Europe.” + +And the President, liberated by those who had detained him, stepped up +to the table and began, with minute attention, to select a sword. He +was highly elated, and seemed to feel no doubt that he should issue +victorious from the contest. The spectators grew alarmed in the face of +so entire a confidence, and adjured Prince Florizel to reconsider his +intention. + +“It is but a farce,” he answered; “and I think I can promise you, +gentlemen, that it will not be long a-playing.” + +“Your Highness will be careful not to over-reach,” said Colonel +Geraldine. + +“Geraldine,” returned the Prince, “did you ever know me fail in a debt +of honour? I owe you this man’s death, and you shall have it.” + +The President at last satisfied himself with one of the rapiers, and +signified his readiness by a gesture that was not devoid of a rude +nobility. The nearness of peril, and the sense of courage, even to this +obnoxious villain, lent an air of manhood and a certain grace. + +The Prince helped himself at random to a sword. + +“Colonel Geraldine and Doctor Noel,” he said, “will have the goodness +to await me in this room. I wish no personal friend of mine to be +involved in this transaction. Major O’Rooke, you are a man of some +years and a settled reputation—let me recommend the President to your +good graces. Lieutenant Rich will be so good as lend me his attentions: +a young man cannot have too much experience in such affairs.” + +“Your Highness,” replied Brackenbury, “it is an honour I shall prize +extremely.” + +“It is well,” returned Prince Florizel; “I shall hope to stand your +friend in more important circumstances.” + +And so saying he led the way out of the apartment and down the kitchen +stairs. + +The two men who were thus left alone threw open the window and leaned +out, straining every sense to catch an indication of the tragical +events that were about to follow. The rain was now over; day had almost +come, and the birds were piping in the shrubbery and on the forest +trees of the garden. The Prince and his companions were visible for a +moment as they followed an alley between two flowering thickets; but at +the first corner a clump of foliage intervened, and they were again +concealed from view. This was all that the Colonel and the Physician +had an opportunity to see, and the garden was so vast, and the place of +combat evidently so remote from the house, that not even the noise of +sword-play reached their ears. + +“He has taken him towards the grave,” said Dr. Noel, with a shudder. + +“God,” cried the Colonel, “God defend the right!” + +And they awaited the event in silence, the Doctor shaking with fear, +the Colonel in an agony of sweat. Many minutes must have elapsed, the +day was sensibly broader, and the birds were singing more heartily in +the garden before a sound of returning footsteps recalled their glances +towards the door. It was the Prince and the two Indian officers who +entered. God had defended the right. + +“I am ashamed of my emotion,” said Prince Florizel; “I feel it is a +weakness unworthy of my station, but the continued existence of that +hound of hell had begun to prey upon me like a disease, and his death +has more refreshed me than a night of slumber. Look, Geraldine,” he +continued, throwing his sword upon the floor, “there is the blood of +the man who killed your brother. It should be a welcome sight. And +yet,” he added, “see how strangely we men are made! my revenge is not +yet five minutes old, and already I am beginning to ask myself if even +revenge be attainable on this precarious stage of life. The ill he did, +who can undo it? The career in which he amassed a huge fortune (for the +house itself in which we stand belonged to him)—that career is now a +part of the destiny of mankind for ever; and I might weary myself +making thrusts in carte until the crack of judgment, and Geraldine’s +brother would be none the less dead, and a thousand other innocent +persons would be none the less dishonoured and debauched! The existence +of a man is so small a thing to take, so mighty a thing to employ! +Alas!” he cried, “is there anything in life so disenchanting as +attainment?” + +“God’s justice has been done,” replied the Doctor. “So much I behold. +The lesson, your Highness, has been a cruel one for me; and I await my +own turn with deadly apprehension.” + +“What was I saying?” cried the Prince. “I have punished, and here is +the man beside us who can help me to undo. Ah, Dr. Noel! you and I have +before us many a day of hard and honourable toil; and perhaps, before +we have none, you may have more than redeemed your early errors.” + +“And in the meantime,” said the Doctor, “let me go and bury my oldest +friend.” + + +(_And this_, observes the erudite Arabian, _is the fortunate conclusion +of the tale_. _The Prince_, _it is superfluous to mention_, _forgot +none of those who served him in this great exploit_; _and to this day +his authority and influence help them forward in their public career_, +_while his condescending friendship adds a charm to their private +life_. _To collect_, continues my author, _all the strange events in +which this Prince has played the part of Providence were to fill the +habitable globe with books_. _But the stories which relate to the +fortunes of_ The Rajah’s Diamond _are of too entertaining a +description_, says he, _to be omitted_. _Following prudently in the +footsteps of this Oriental_, _we shall now begin the series to which he +refers with the_ Story of the Bandbox.) + + + + +THE RAJAH’S DIAMOND + + + + +STORY OF THE BANDBOX + + +Up to the age of sixteen, at a private school and afterwards at one of +those great institutions for which England is justly famous, Mr. Harry +Hartley had received the ordinary education of a gentleman. At that +period, he manifested a remarkable distaste for study; and his only +surviving parent being both weak and ignorant, he was permitted +thenceforward to spend his time in the attainment of petty and purely +elegant accomplishments. Two years later, he was left an orphan and +almost a beggar. For all active and industrious pursuits, Harry was +unfitted alike by nature and training. He could sing romantic ditties, +and accompany himself with discretion on the piano; he was a graceful +although a timid cavalier; he had a pronounced taste for chess; and +nature had sent him into the world with one of the most engaging +exteriors that can well be fancied. Blond and pink, with dove’s eyes +and a gentle smile, he had an air of agreeable tenderness and +melancholy, and the most submissive and caressing manners. But when all +is said, he was not the man to lead armaments of war, or direct the +councils of a State. + +A fortunate chance and some influence obtained for Harry, at the time +of his bereavement, the position of private secretary to Major-General +Sir Thomas Vandeleur, C.B. Sir Thomas was a man of sixty, loud-spoken, +boisterous, and domineering. For some reason, some service the nature +of which had been often whispered and repeatedly denied, the Rajah of +Kashgar had presented this officer with the sixth known diamond of the +world. The gift transformed General Vandeleur from a poor into a +wealthy man, from an obscure and unpopular soldier into one of the +lions of London society; the possessor of the Rajah’s Diamond was +welcome in the most exclusive circles; and he had found a lady, young, +beautiful, and well-born, who was willing to call the diamond hers even +at the price of marriage with Sir Thomas Vandeleur. It was commonly +said at the time that, as like draws to like, one jewel had attracted +another; certainly Lady Vandeleur was not only a gem of the finest +water in her own person, but she showed herself to the world in a very +costly setting; and she was considered by many respectable authorities, +as one among the three or four best dressed women in England. + +Harry’s duty as secretary was not particularly onerous; but he had a +dislike for all prolonged work; it gave him pain to ink his fingers; +and the charms of Lady Vandeleur and her toilettes drew him often from +the library to the boudoir. He had the prettiest ways among women, +could talk fashions with enjoyment, and was never more happy than when +criticising a shade of ribbon, or running on an errand to the +milliner’s. In short, Sir Thomas’s correspondence fell into pitiful +arrears, and my Lady had another lady’s maid. + +At last the General, who was one of the least patient of military +commanders, arose from his place in a violent access of passion, and +indicated to his secretary that he had no further need for his +services, with one of those explanatory gestures which are most rarely +employed between gentlemen. The door being unfortunately open, Mr. +Hartley fell downstairs head foremost. + +He arose somewhat hurt and very deeply aggrieved. The life in the +General’s house precisely suited him; he moved, on a more or less +doubtful footing, in very genteel company, he did little, he ate of the +best, and he had a lukewarm satisfaction in the presence of Lady +Vandeleur, which, in his own heart, he dubbed by a more emphatic name. + +Immediately after he had been outraged by the military foot, he hurried +to the boudoir and recounted his sorrows. + +“You know very well, my dear Harry,” replied Lady Vandeleur, for she +called him by name like a child or a domestic servant, “that you never +by any chance do what the General tells you. No more do I, you may say. +But that is different. A woman can earn her pardon for a good year of +disobedience by a single adroit submission; and, besides, no one is +married to his private secretary. I shall be sorry to lose you; but +since you cannot stay longer in a house where you have been insulted, I +shall wish you good-bye, and I promise you to make the General smart +for his behaviour.” + +Harry’s countenance fell; tears came into his eyes, and he gazed on +Lady Vandeleur with a tender reproach. + +“My Lady,” said he, “what is an insult? I should think little indeed of +any one who could not forgive them by the score. But to leave one’s +friends; to tear up the bonds of affection—” + +He was unable to continue, for his emotion choked him, and he began to +weep. + +Lady Vandeleur looked at him with a curious expression. “This little +fool,” she thought, “imagines himself to be in love with me. Why should +he not become my servant instead of the General’s? He is good-natured, +obliging, and understands dress; and besides it will keep him out of +mischief. He is positively too pretty to be unattached.” That night she +talked over the General, who was already somewhat ashamed of his +vivacity; and Harry was transferred to the feminine department, where +his life was little short of heavenly. He was always dressed with +uncommon nicety, wore delicate flowers in his button-hole, and could +entertain a visitor with tact and pleasantry. He took a pride in +servility to a beautiful woman; received Lady Vandeleur’s commands as +so many marks of favour; and was pleased to exhibit himself before +other men, who derided and despised him, in his character of male +lady’s-maid and man milliner. Nor could he think enough of his +existence from a moral point of view. Wickedness seemed to him an +essentially male attribute, and to pass one’s days with a delicate +woman, and principally occupied about trimmings, was to inhabit an +enchanted isle among the storms of life. + +One fine morning he came into the drawing-room and began to arrange +some music on the top of the piano. Lady Vandeleur, at the other end of +the apartment, was speaking somewhat eagerly with her brother, Charlie +Pendragon, an elderly young man, much broken with dissipation, and very +lame of one foot. The private secretary, to whose entrance they paid no +regard, could not avoid overhearing a part of their conversation. + +“To-day or never,” said the lady. “Once and for all, it shall be done +to-day.” + +“To-day, if it must be,” replied the brother, with a sigh. “But it is a +false step, a ruinous step, Clara; and we shall live to repent it +dismally.” + +Lady Vandeleur looked her brother steadily and somewhat strangely in +the face. + +“You forget,” she said; “the man must die at last.” + +“Upon my word, Clara,” said Pendragon, “I believe you are the most +heartless rascal in England.” + +“You men,” she returned, “are so coarsely built, that you can never +appreciate a shade of meaning. You are yourselves rapacious, violent, +immodest, careless of distinction; and yet the least thought for the +future shocks you in a woman. I have no patience with such stuff. You +would despise in a common banker the imbecility that you expect to find +in us.” + +“You are very likely right,” replied her brother; “you were always +cleverer than I. And, anyway, you know my motto: The family before +all.” + +“Yes, Charlie,” she returned, taking his hand in hers, “I know your +motto better than you know it yourself. ‘And Clara before the family!’ +Is not that the second part of it? Indeed, you are the best of +brothers, and I love you dearly.” + +Mr. Pendragon got up, looking a little confused by these family +endearments. + +“I had better not be seen,” said he. “I understand my part to a +miracle, and I’ll keep an eye on the Tame Cat.” + +“Do,” she replied. “He is an abject creature, and might ruin all.” + +She kissed the tips of her fingers to him daintily; and the brother +withdrew by the boudoir and the back stair. + +“Harry,” said Lady Vandeleur, turning towards the secretary as soon as +they were alone, “I have a commission for you this morning. But you +shall take a cab; I cannot have my secretary freckled.” + +She spoke the last words with emphasis and a look of half-motherly +pride that caused great contentment to poor Harry; and he professed +himself charmed to find an opportunity of serving her. + +“It is another of our great secrets,” she went on archly, “and no one +must know of it but my secretary and me. Sir Thomas would make the +saddest disturbance; and if you only knew how weary I am of these +scenes! Oh, Harry, Harry, can you explain to me what makes you men so +violent and unjust? But, indeed, I know you cannot; you are the only +man in the world who knows nothing of these shameful passions; you are +so good, Harry, and so kind; you, at least, can be a woman’s friend; +and, do you know? I think you make the others more ugly by comparison.” + +“It is you,” said Harry gallantly, “who are so kind to me. You treat me +like—” + +“Like a mother,” interposed Lady Vandeleur; “I try to be a mother to +you. Or, at least,” she corrected herself with a smile, “almost a +mother. I am afraid I am too young to be your mother really. Let us say +a friend—a dear friend.” + +She paused long enough to let her words take effect in Harry’s +sentimental quarters, but not long enough to allow him a reply. + +“But all this is beside our purpose,” she resumed. “You will find a +bandbox in the left-hand side of the oak wardrobe; it is underneath the +pink slip that I wore on Wednesday with my Mechlin. You will take it +immediately to this address,” and she gave him a paper, “but do not, on +any account, let it out of your hands until you have received a receipt +written by myself. Do you understand? Answer, if you please—answer! +This is extremely important, and I must ask you to pay some attention.” + +Harry pacified her by repeating her instructions perfectly; and she was +just going to tell him more when General Vandeleur flung into the +apartment, scarlet with anger, and holding a long and elaborate +milliner’s bill in his hand. + +“Will you look at this, madam?” cried he. “Will you have the goodness +to look at this document? I know well enough you married me for my +money, and I hope I can make as great allowances as any other man in +the service; but, as sure as God made me, I mean to put a period to +this disreputable prodigality.” + +“Mr. Hartley,” said Lady Vandeleur, “I think you understand what you +have to do. May I ask you to see to it at once?” + +“Stop,” said the General, addressing Harry, “one word before you go.” +And then, turning again to Lady Vandeleur, “What is this precious +fellow’s errand?” he demanded. “I trust him no further than I do +yourself, let me tell you. If he had as much as the rudiments of +honesty, he would scorn to stay in this house; and what he does for his +wages is a mystery to all the world. What is his errand, madam? and why +are you hurrying him away?” + +“I supposed you had something to say to me in private,” replied the +lady. + +“You spoke about an errand,” insisted the General. “Do not attempt to +deceive me in my present state of temper. You certainly spoke about an +errand.” + +“If you insist on making your servants privy to our humiliating +dissensions,” replied Lady Vandeleur, “perhaps I had better ask Mr. +Hartley to sit down. No?” she continued; “then you may go, Mr. Hartley. +I trust you may remember all that you have heard in this room; it may +be useful to you.” + +Harry at once made his escape from the drawing-room; and as he ran +upstairs he could hear the General’s voice upraised in declamation, and +the thin tones of Lady Vandeleur planting icy repartees at every +opening. How cordially he admired the wife! How skilfully she could +evade an awkward question! with what secure effrontery she repeated her +instructions under the very guns of the enemy! and on the other hand, +how he detested the husband! + +There had been nothing unfamiliar in the morning’s events, for he was +continually in the habit of serving Lady Vandeleur on secret missions, +principally connected with millinery. There was a skeleton in the +house, as he well knew. The bottomless extravagance and the unknown +liabilities of the wife had long since swallowed her own fortune, and +threatened day by day to engulph that of the husband. Once or twice in +every year exposure and ruin seemed imminent, and Harry kept trotting +round to all sorts of furnishers’ shops, telling small fibs, and paying +small advances on the gross amount, until another term was tided over, +and the lady and her faithful secretary breathed again. For Harry, in a +double capacity, was heart and soul upon that side of the war: not only +did he adore Lady Vandeleur and fear and dislike her husband, but he +naturally sympathised with the love of finery, and his own single +extravagance was at the tailor’s. + +He found the bandbox where it had been described, arranged his toilette +with care, and left the house. The sun shone brightly; the distance he +had to travel was considerable, and he remembered with dismay that the +General’s sudden irruption had prevented Lady Vandeleur from giving him +money for a cab. On this sultry day there was every chance that his +complexion would suffer severely; and to walk through so much of London +with a bandbox on his arm was a humiliation almost insupportable to a +youth of his character. He paused, and took counsel with himself. The +Vandeleurs lived in Eaton Place; his destination was near Notting Hill; +plainly, he might cross the Park by keeping well in the open and +avoiding populous alleys; and he thanked his stars when he reflected +that it was still comparatively early in the day. + +Anxious to be rid of his incubus, he walked somewhat faster than his +ordinary, and he was already some way through Kensington Gardens when, +in a solitary spot among trees, he found himself confronted by the +General. + +“I beg your pardon, Sir Thomas,” observed Harry, politely falling on +one side; for the other stood directly in his path. + +“Where are you going, sir?” asked the General. + +“I am taking a little walk among the trees,” replied the lad. + +The General struck the bandbox with his cane. + +“With that thing?” he cried; “you lie, sir, and you know you lie!” + +“Indeed, Sir Thomas,” returned Harry, “I am not accustomed to be +questioned in so high a key.” + +“You do not understand your position,” said the General. “You are my +servant, and a servant of whom I have conceived the most serious +suspicions. How do I know but that your box is full of teaspoons?” + +“It contains a silk hat belonging to a friend,” said Harry. + +“Very well,” replied General Vandeleur. “Then I want to see your +friend’s silk hat. I have,” he added grimly, “a singular curiosity for +hats; and I believe you know me to be somewhat positive.” + +“I beg your pardon, Sir Thomas, I am exceedingly grieved,” Harry +apologised; “but indeed this is a private affair.” + +The General caught him roughly by the shoulder with one hand, while he +raised his cane in the most menacing manner with the other. Harry gave +himself up for lost; but at the same moment Heaven vouchsafed him an +unexpected defender in the person of Charlie Pendragon, who now strode +forward from behind the trees. + +“Come, come, General, hold your hand,” said he, “this is neither +courteous nor manly.” + +“Aha!” cried the General, wheeling round upon his new antagonist, “Mr. +Pendragon! And do you suppose, Mr. Pendragon, that because I have had +the misfortune to marry your sister, I shall suffer myself to be dogged +and thwarted by a discredited and bankrupt libertine like you? My +acquaintance with Lady Vandeleur, sir, has taken away all my appetite +for the other members of her family.” + +“And do you fancy, General Vandeleur,” retorted Charlie, “that because +my sister has had the misfortune to marry you, she there and then +forfeited her rights and privileges as a lady? I own, sir, that by that +action she did as much as anybody could to derogate from her position; +but to me she is still a Pendragon. I make it my business to protect +her from ungentlemanly outrage, and if you were ten times her husband I +would not permit her liberty to be restrained, nor her private +messengers to be violently arrested.” + +“How is that, Mr. Hartley?” interrogated the General. “Mr. Pendragon is +of my opinion, it appears. He too suspects that Lady Vandeleur has +something to do with your friend’s silk hat.” + +Charlie saw that he had committed an unpardonable blunder, which he +hastened to repair. + +“How, sir?” he cried; “I suspect, do you say? I suspect nothing. Only +where I find strength abused and a man brutalising his inferiors, I +take the liberty to interfere.” + +As he said these words he made a sign to Harry, which the latter was +too dull or too much troubled to understand. + +“In what way am I to construe your attitude, sir?” demanded Vandeleur. + +“Why, sir, as you please,” returned Pendragon. + +The General once more raised his cane, and made a cut for Charlie’s +head; but the latter, lame foot and all, evaded the blow with his +umbrella, ran in, and immediately closed with his formidable adversary. + +“Run, Harry, run!” he cried; “run, you dolt!” + +Harry stood petrified for a moment, watching the two men sway together +in this fierce embrace; then he turned and took to his heels. When he +cast a glance over his shoulder he saw the General prostrate under +Charlie’s knee, but still making desperate efforts to reverse the +situation; and the Gardens seemed to have filled with people, who were +running from all directions towards the scene of fight. This spectacle +lent the secretary wings; and he did not relax his pace until he had +gained the Bayswater road, and plunged at random into an unfrequented +by-street. + +To see two gentlemen of his acquaintance thus brutally mauling each +other was deeply shocking to Harry. He desired to forget the sight; he +desired, above all, to put as great a distance as possible between +himself and General Vandeleur; and in his eagerness for this he forgot +everything about his destination, and hurried before him headlong and +trembling. When he remembered that Lady Vandeleur was the wife of one +and the sister of the other of these gladiators, his heart was touched +with sympathy for a woman so distressingly misplaced in life. Even his +own situation in the General’s household looked hardly so pleasing as +usual in the light of these violent transactions. + +He had walked some little distance, busied with these meditations, +before a slight collision with another passenger reminded him of the +bandbox on his arm. + +“Heavens!” cried he, “where was my head? and whither have I wandered?” + +Thereupon he consulted the envelope which Lady Vandeleur had given him. +The address was there, but without a name. Harry was simply directed to +ask for “the gentleman who expected a parcel from Lady Vandeleur,” and +if he were not at home to await his return. The gentleman, added the +note, should present a receipt in the handwriting of the lady herself. +All this seemed mightily mysterious, and Harry was above all astonished +at the omission of the name and the formality of the receipt. He had +thought little of this last when he heard it dropped in conversation; +but reading it in cold blood, and taking it in connection with the +other strange particulars, he became convinced that he was engaged in +perilous affairs. For half a moment he had a doubt of Lady Vandeleur +herself; for he found these obscure proceedings somewhat unworthy of so +high a lady, and became more critical when her secrets were preserved +against himself. But her empire over his spirit was too complete, he +dismissed his suspicions, and blamed himself roundly for having so much +as entertained them. + +In one thing, however, his duty and interest, his generosity and his +terrors, coincided—to get rid of the bandbox with the greatest possible +despatch. + +He accosted the first policeman and courteously inquired his way. It +turned out that he was already not far from his destination, and a walk +of a few minutes brought him to a small house in a lane, freshly +painted, and kept with the most scrupulous attention. The knocker and +bell-pull were highly polished; flowering pot-herbs garnished the sills +of the different windows; and curtains of some rich material concealed +the interior from the eyes of curious passengers. The place had an air +of repose and secrecy; and Harry was so far caught with this spirit +that he knocked with more than usual discretion, and was more than +usually careful to remove all impurity from his boots. + +A servant-maid of some personal attractions immediately opened the +door, and seemed to regard the secretary with no unkind eyes. + +“This is the parcel from Lady Vandeleur,” said Harry. + +“I know,” replied the maid, with a nod. “But the gentleman is from +home. Will you leave it with me?” + +“I cannot,” answered Harry. “I am directed not to part with it but upon +a certain condition, and I must ask you, I am afraid, to let me wait.” + +“Well,” said she, “I suppose I may let you wait. I am lonely enough, I +can tell you, and you do not look as though you would eat a girl. But +be sure and do not ask the gentleman’s name, for that I am not to tell +you.” + +“Do you say so?” cried Harry. “Why, how strange! But indeed for some +time back I walk among surprises. One question I think I may surely ask +without indiscretion: Is he the master of this house?” + +“He is a lodger, and not eight days old at that,” returned the maid. +“And now a question for a question: Do you know lady Vandeleur?” + +“I am her private secretary,” replied Harry with a glow of modest +pride. + +“She is pretty, is she not?” pursued the servant. + +“Oh, beautiful!” cried Harry; “wonderfully lovely, and not less good +and kind!” + +“You look kind enough yourself,” she retorted; “and I wager you are +worth a dozen Lady Vandeleurs.” + +Harry was properly scandalised. + +“I!” he cried. “I am only a secretary!” + +“Do you mean that for me?” said the girl. “Because I am only a +housemaid, if you please.” And then, relenting at the sight of Harry’s +obvious confusion, “I know you mean nothing of the sort,” she added; +“and I like your looks; but I think nothing of your Lady Vandeleur. Oh, +these mistresses!” she cried. “To send out a real gentleman like +you—with a bandbox—in broad day!” + +During this talk they had remained in their original positions—she on +the doorstep, he on the side-walk, bareheaded for the sake of coolness, +and with the bandbox on his arm. But upon this last speech Harry, who +was unable to support such point-blank compliments to his appearance, +nor the encouraging look with which they were accompanied, began to +change his attitude, and glance from left to right in perturbation. In +so doing he turned his face towards the lower end of the lane, and +there, to his indescribable dismay, his eyes encountered those of +General Vandeleur. The General, in a prodigious fluster of heat, hurry, +and indignation, had been scouring the streets in chase of his +brother-in-law; but so soon as he caught a glimpse of the delinquent +secretary, his purpose changed, his anger flowed into a new channel, +and he turned on his heel and came tearing up the lane with truculent +gestures and vociferations. + +Harry made but one bolt of it into the house, driving the maid before +him; and the door was slammed in his pursuer’s countenance. + +“Is there a bar? Will it lock?” asked Harry, while a salvo on the +knocker made the house echo from wall to wall. + +“Why, what is wrong with you?” asked the maid. “Is it this old +gentleman?” + +“If he gets hold of me,” whispered Harry, “I am as good as dead. He has +been pursuing me all day, carries a sword-stick, and is an Indian +military officer.” + +“These are fine manners,” cried the maid. “And what, if you please, may +be his name?” + +“It is the General, my master,” answered Harry. “He is after this +bandbox.” + +“Did not I tell you?” cried the maid in triumph. “I told you I thought +worse than nothing of your Lady Vandeleur; and if you had an eye in +your head you might see what she is for yourself. An ungrateful minx, I +will be bound for that!” + +The General renewed his attack upon the knocker, and his passion +growing with delay, began to kick and beat upon the panels of the door. + +“It is lucky,” observed the girl, “that I am alone in the house; your +General may hammer until he is weary, and there is none to open for +him. Follow me!” + +So saying she led Harry into the kitchen, where she made him sit down, +and stood by him herself in an affectionate attitude, with a hand upon +his shoulder. The din at the door, so far from abating, continued to +increase in volume, and at each blow the unhappy secretary was shaken +to the heart. + +“What is your name?” asked the girl. + +“Harry Hartley,” he replied. + +“Mine,” she went on, “is Prudence. Do you like it?” + +“Very much,” said Harry. “But hear for a moment how the General beats +upon the door. He will certainly break it in, and then, in heaven’s +name, what have I to look for but death?” + +“You put yourself very much about with no occasion,” answered Prudence. +“Let your General knock, he will do no more than blister his hands. Do +you think I would keep you here if I were not sure to save you? Oh, no, +I am a good friend to those that please me! and we have a back door +upon another lane. But,” she added, checking him, for he had got upon +his feet immediately on this welcome news, “but I will not show where +it is unless you kiss me. Will you, Harry?” + +“That I will,” he cried, remembering his gallantry, “not for your back +door, but because you are good and pretty.” + +And he administered two or three cordial salutes, which were returned +to him in kind. + +Then Prudence led him to the back gate, and put her hand upon the key. + +“Will you come and see me?” she asked. + +“I will indeed,” said Harry. “Do not I owe you my life?” + +“And now,” she added, opening the door, “run as hard as you can, for I +shall let in the General.” + +Harry scarcely required this advice; fear had him by the forelock; and +he addressed himself diligently to flight. A few steps, and he believed +he would escape from his trials, and return to Lady Vandeleur in honour +and safety. But these few steps had not been taken before he heard a +man’s voice hailing him by name with many execrations, and, looking +over his shoulder, he beheld Charlie Pendragon waving him with both +arms to return. The shock of this new incident was so sudden and +profound, and Harry was already worked into so high a state of nervous +tension, that he could think of nothing better than to accelerate his +pace, and continue running. He should certainly have remembered the +scene in Kensington Gardens; he should certainly have concluded that, +where the General was his enemy, Charlie Pendragon could be no other +than a friend. But such was the fever and perturbation of his mind that +he was struck by none of these considerations, and only continued to +run the faster up the lane. + +Charlie, by the sound of his voice and the vile terms that he hurled +after the secretary, was obviously beside himself with rage. He, too, +ran his very best; but, try as he might, the physical advantages were +not upon his side, and his outcries and the fall of his lame foot on +the macadam began to fall farther and farther into the wake. + +Harry’s hopes began once more to arise. The lane was both steep and +narrow, but it was exceedingly solitary, bordered on either hand by +garden walls, overhung with foliage; and, for as far as the fugitive +could see in front of him, there was neither a creature moving nor an +open door. Providence, weary of persecution, was now offering him an +open field for his escape. + +Alas! as he came abreast of a garden door under a tuft of chestnuts, it +was suddenly drawn back, and he could see inside, upon a garden path, +the figure of a butcher’s boy with his tray upon his arm. He had hardly +recognised the fact before he was some steps beyond upon the other +side. But the fellow had had time to observe him; he was evidently much +surprised to see a gentleman go by at so unusual a pace; and he came +out into the lane and began to call after Harry with shouts of ironical +encouragement. + +His appearance gave a new idea to Charlie Pendragon, who, although he +was now sadly out of breath, once more upraised his voice. + +“Stop, thief!” he cried. + +And immediately the butcher’s boy had taken up the cry and joined in +the pursuit. + +This was a bitter moment for the hunted secretary. It is true that his +terror enabled him once more to improve his pace, and gain with every +step on his pursuers; but he was well aware that he was near the end of +his resources, and should he meet any one coming the other way, his +predicament in the narrow lane would be desperate indeed. + +“I must find a place of concealment,” he thought, “and that within the +next few seconds, or all is over with me in this world.” + +Scarcely had the thought crossed his mind than the lane took a sudden +turning; and he found himself hidden from his enemies. There are +circumstances in which even the least energetic of mankind learn to +behave with vigour and decision; and the most cautious forget their +prudence and embrace foolhardy resolutions. This was one of those +occasions for Harry Hartley; and those who knew him best would have +been the most astonished at the lad’s audacity. He stopped dead, flung +the bandbox over a garden wall, and leaping upward with incredible +agility and seizing the copestone with his hands, he tumbled headlong +after it into the garden. + +He came to himself a moment afterwards, seated in a border of small +rosebushes. His hands and knees were cut and bleeding, for the wall had +been protected against such an escalade by a liberal provision of old +bottles; and he was conscious of a general dislocation and a painful +swimming in the head. Facing him across the garden, which was in +admirable order, and set with flowers of the most delicious perfume, he +beheld the back of a house. It was of considerable extent, and plainly +habitable; but, in odd contrast to the grounds, it was crazy, ill-kept, +and of a mean appearance. On all other sides the circuit of the garden +wall appeared unbroken. + +He took in these features of the scene with mechanical glances, but his +mind was still unable to piece together or draw a rational conclusion +from what he saw. And when he heard footsteps advancing on the gravel, +although he turned his eyes in that direction, it was with no thought +either for defence or flight. + +The new-comer was a large, coarse, and very sordid personage, in +gardening clothes, and with a watering-pot in his left hand. One less +confused would have been affected with some alarm at the sight of this +man’s huge proportions and black and lowering eyes. But Harry was too +gravely shaken by his fall to be so much as terrified; and if he was +unable to divert his glances from the gardener, he remained absolutely +passive, and suffered him to draw near, to take him by the shoulder, +and to plant him roughly on his feet, without a motion of resistance. + +For a moment the two stared into each other’s eyes, Harry fascinated, +the man filled with wrath and a cruel, sneering humour. + +“Who are you?” he demanded at last. “Who are you to come flying over my +wall and break my _Gloire de Dijons_! What is your name?” he added, +shaking him; “and what may be your business here?” + +Harry could not as much as proffer a word in explanation. + +But just at that moment Pendragon and the butcher’s boy went clumping +past, and the sound of their feet and their hoarse cries echoed loudly +in the narrow lane. The gardener had received his answer; and he looked +down into Harry’s face with an obnoxious smile. + +“A thief!” he said. “Upon my word, and a very good thing you must make +of it; for I see you dressed like a gentleman from top to toe. Are you +not ashamed to go about the world in such a trim, with honest folk, I +dare say, glad to buy your cast-off finery second hand? Speak up, you +dog,” the man went on; “you can understand English, I suppose; and I +mean to have a bit of talk with you before I march you to the station.” + +“Indeed, sir,” said Harry, “this is all a dreadful misconception; and +if you will go with me to Sir Thomas Vandeleur’s in Eaton Place, I can +promise that all will be made plain. The most upright person, as I now +perceive, can be led into suspicious positions.” + +“My little man,” replied the gardener, “I will go with you no farther +than the station-house in the next street. The inspector, no doubt, +will be glad to take a stroll with you as far as Eaton Place, and have +a bit of afternoon tea with your great acquaintances. Or would you +prefer to go direct to the Home Secretary? Sir Thomas Vandeleur, +indeed! Perhaps you think I don’t know a gentleman when I see one, from +a common run-the-hedge like you? Clothes or no clothes, I can read you +like a book. Here is a shirt that maybe cost as much as my Sunday hat; +and that coat, I take it, has never seen the inside of Rag-fair, and +then your boots—” + +The man, whose eyes had fallen upon the ground, stopped short in his +insulting commentary, and remained for a moment looking intently upon +something at his feet. When he spoke his voice was strangely altered. + +“What, in God’s name,” said he, “is all this?” + +Harry, following the direction of the man’s eyes, beheld a spectacle +that struck him dumb with terror and amazement. In his fall he had +descended vertically upon the bandbox and burst it open from end to +end; thence a great treasure of diamonds had poured forth, and now lay +abroad, part trodden in the soil, part scattered on the surface in +regal and glittering profusion. There was a magnificent coronet which +he had often admired on Lady Vandeleur; there were rings and brooches, +ear-drops and bracelets, and even unset brilliants rolling here and +there among the rosebushes like drops of morning dew. A princely +fortune lay between the two men upon the ground—a fortune in the most +inviting, solid, and durable form, capable of being carried in an +apron, beautiful in itself, and scattering the sunlight in a million +rainbow flashes. + +“Good God!” said Harry, “I am lost!” + +His mind raced backwards into the past with the incalculable velocity +of thought, and he began to comprehend his day’s adventures, to +conceive them as a whole, and to recognise the sad imbroglio in which +his own character and fortunes had become involved. He looked round him +as if for help, but he was alone in the garden, with his scattered +diamonds and his redoubtable interlocutor; and when he gave ear, there +was no sound but the rustle of the leaves and the hurried pulsation of +his heart. It was little wonder if the young man felt himself deserted +by his spirits, and with a broken voice repeated his last +ejaculation—“I am lost!” + +The gardener peered in all directions with an air of guilt; but there +was no face at any of the windows, and he seemed to breathe again. + +“Pick up a heart,” he said, “you fool! The worst of it is done. Why +could you not say at first there was enough for two? Two?” he repeated, +“aye, and for two hundred! But come away from here, where we may be +observed; and, for the love of wisdom, straighten out your hat and +brush your clothes. You could not travel two steps the figure of fun +you look just now.” + +While Harry mechanically adopted these suggestions, the gardener, +getting upon his knees, hastily drew together the scattered jewels and +returned them to the bandbox. The touch of these costly crystals sent a +shiver of emotion through the man’s stalwart frame; his face was +transfigured, and his eyes shone with concupiscence; indeed it seemed +as if he luxuriously prolonged his occupation, and dallied with every +diamond that he handled. At last, however, it was done; and, concealing +the bandbox in his smock, the gardener beckoned to Harry and preceded +him in the direction of the house. + +Near the door they were met by a young man evidently in holy orders, +dark and strikingly handsome, with a look of mingled weakness and +resolution, and very neatly attired after the manner of his caste. The +gardener was plainly annoyed by this encounter; but he put as good a +face upon it as he could, and accosted the clergyman with an obsequious +and smiling air. + +“Here is a fine afternoon, Mr. Rolles,” said he: “a fine afternoon, as +sure as God made it! And here is a young friend of mine who had a fancy +to look at my roses. I took the liberty to bring him in, for I thought +none of the lodgers would object.” + +“Speaking for myself,” replied the Reverend Mr. Rolles, “I do not; nor +do I fancy any of the rest of us would be more difficult upon so small +a matter. The garden is your own, Mr. Raeburn; we must none of us +forget that; and because you give us liberty to walk there we should be +indeed ungracious if we so far presumed upon your politeness as to +interfere with the convenience of your friends. But, on second +thoughts,” he added, “I believe that this gentleman and I have met +before. Mr. Hartley, I think. I regret to observe that you have had a +fall.” + +And he offered his hand. + +A sort of maiden dignity and a desire to delay as long as possible the +necessity for explanation moved Harry to refuse this chance of help, +and to deny his own identity. He chose the tender mercies of the +gardener, who was at least unknown to him, rather than the curiosity +and perhaps the doubts of an acquaintance. + +“I fear there is some mistake,” said he. “My name is Thomlinson and I +am a friend of Mr. Raeburn’s.” + +“Indeed?” said Mr. Rolles. “The likeness is amazing.” + +Mr. Raeburn, who had been upon thorns throughout this colloquy, now +felt it high time to bring it to a period. + +“I wish you a pleasant saunter, sir,” said he. + +And with that he dragged Harry after him into the house, and then into +a chamber on the garden. His first care was to draw down the blind, for +Mr. Rolles still remained where they had left him, in an attitude of +perplexity and thought. Then he emptied the broken bandbox on the +table, and stood before the treasure, thus fully displayed, with an +expression of rapturous greed, and rubbing his hands upon his thighs. +For Harry, the sight of the man’s face under the influence of this base +emotion, added another pang to those he was already suffering. It +seemed incredible that, from his life of pure and delicate trifling, he +should be plunged in a breath among sordid and criminal relations. He +could reproach his conscience with no sinful act; and yet he was now +suffering the punishment of sin in its most acute and cruel forms—the +dread of punishment, the suspicions of the good, and the companionship +and contamination of vile and brutal natures. He felt he could lay his +life down with gladness to escape from the room and the society of Mr. +Raeburn. + +“And now,” said the latter, after he had separated the jewels into two +nearly equal parts, and drawn one of them nearer to himself; “and now,” +said he, “everything in this world has to be paid for, and some things +sweetly. You must know, Mr. Hartley, if such be your name, that I am a +man of a very easy temper, and good nature has been my stumbling-block +from first to last. I could pocket the whole of these pretty pebbles, +if I chose, and I should like to see you dare to say a word; but I +think I must have taken a liking to you; for I declare I have not the +heart to shave you so close. So, do you see, in pure kind feeling, I +propose that we divide; and these,” indicating the two heaps, “are the +proportions that seem to me just and friendly. Do you see any +objection, Mr. Hartley, may I ask? I am not the man to stick upon a +brooch.” + +“But, sir,” cried Harry, “what you propose to me is impossible. The +jewels are not mine, and I cannot share what is another’s, no matter +with whom, nor in what proportions.” + +“They are not yours, are they not?” returned Raeburn. “And you could +not share them with anybody, couldn’t you? Well now, that is what I +call a pity; for here am I obliged to take you to the station. The +police—think of that,” he continued; “think of the disgrace for your +respectable parents; think,” he went on, taking Harry by the wrist; +“think of the Colonies and the Day of Judgment.” + +“I cannot help it,” wailed Harry. “It is not my fault. You will not +come with me to Eaton Place?” + +“No,” replied the man, “I will not, that is certain. And I mean to +divide these playthings with you here.” + +And so saying he applied a sudden and severe torsion to the lad’s +wrist. + +Harry could not suppress a scream, and the perspiration burst forth +upon his face. Perhaps pain and terror quickened his intelligence, but +certainly at that moment the whole business flashed across him in +another light; and he saw that there was nothing for it but to accede +to the ruffian’s proposal, and trust to find the house and force him to +disgorge, under more favourable circumstances, and when he himself was +clear from all suspicion. + +“I agree,” he said. + +“There is a lamb,” sneered the gardener. “I thought you would recognise +your interests at last. This bandbox,” he continued, “I shall burn with +my rubbish; it is a thing that curious folk might recognise; and as for +you, scrape up your gaieties and put them in your pocket.” + +Harry proceeded to obey, Raeburn watching him, and every now and again +his greed rekindled by some bright scintillation, abstracting another +jewel from the secretary’s share, and adding it to his own. + +When this was finished, both proceeded to the front door, which Raeburn +cautiously opened to observe the street. This was apparently clear of +passengers; for he suddenly seized Harry by the nape of the neck, and +holding his face downward so that he could see nothing but the roadway +and the doorsteps of the houses, pushed him violently before him down +one street and up another for the space of perhaps a minute and a half. +Harry had counted three corners before the bully relaxed his grasp, and +crying, “Now be off with you!” sent the lad flying head foremost with a +well-directed and athletic kick. + +When Harry gathered himself up, half-stunned and bleeding freely at the +nose, Mr. Raeburn had entirely disappeared. For the first time, anger +and pain so completely overcame the lad’s spirits that he burst into a +fit of tears and remained sobbing in the middle of the road. + +After he had thus somewhat assuaged his emotion, he began to look about +him and read the names of the streets at whose intersection he had been +deserted by the gardener. He was still in an unfrequented portion of +West London, among villas and large gardens; but he could see some +persons at a window who had evidently witnessed his misfortune; and +almost immediately after a servant came running from the house and +offered him a glass of water. At the same time, a dirty rogue, who had +been slouching somewhere in the neighbourhood, drew near him from the +other side. + +“Poor fellow,” said the maid, “how vilely you have been handled, to be +sure! Why, your knees are all cut, and your clothes ruined! Do you know +the wretch who used you so?” + +“That I do!” cried Harry, who was somewhat refreshed by the water; “and +shall run him home in spite of his precautions. He shall pay dearly for +this day’s work, I promise you.” + +“You had better come into the house and have yourself washed and +brushed,” continued the maid. “My mistress will make you welcome, never +fear. And see, I will pick up your hat. Why, love of mercy!” she +screamed, “if you have not dropped diamonds all over the street!” + +Such was the case; a good half of what remained to him after the +depredations of Mr. Raeburn, had been shaken out of his pockets by the +summersault and once more lay glittering on the ground. He blessed his +fortune that the maid had been so quick of eye; “there is nothing so +bad but it might be worse,” thought he; and the recovery of these few +seemed to him almost as great an affair as the loss of all the rest. +But, alas! as he stooped to pick up his treasures, the loiterer made a +rapid onslaught, overset both Harry and the maid with a movement of his +arms, swept up a double handful of the diamonds, and made off along the +street with an amazing swiftness. + +Harry, as soon as he could get upon his feet, gave chase to the +miscreant with many cries, but the latter was too fleet of foot, and +probably too well acquainted with the locality; for turn where the +pursuer would he could find no traces of the fugitive. + +In the deepest despondency, Harry revisited the scene of his mishap, +where the maid, who was still waiting, very honestly returned him his +hat and the remainder of the fallen diamonds. Harry thanked her from +his heart, and being now in no humour for economy, made his way to the +nearest cab-stand and set off for Eaton Place by coach. + +The house, on his arrival, seemed in some confusion, as if a +catastrophe had happened in the family; and the servants clustered +together in the hall, and were unable, or perhaps not altogether +anxious, to suppress their merriment at the tatterdemalion figure of +the secretary. He passed them with as good an air of dignity as he +could assume, and made directly for the boudoir. When he opened the +door an astonishing and even menacing spectacle presented itself to his +eyes; for he beheld the General and his wife and, of all people, +Charlie Pendragon, closeted together and speaking with earnestness and +gravity on some important subject. Harry saw at once that there was +little left for him to explain—plenary confession had plainly been made +to the General of the intended fraud upon his pocket, and the +unfortunate miscarriage of the scheme; and they had all made common +cause against a common danger. + +“Thank Heaven!” cried Lady Vandeleur, “here he is! The bandbox, +Harry—the bandbox!” + +But Harry stood before them silent and downcast. + +“Speak!” she cried. “Speak! Where is the bandbox?” + +And the men, with threatening gestures, repeated the demand. + +Harry drew a handful of jewels from his pocket. He was very white. + +“This is all that remains,” said he. “I declare before Heaven it was +through no fault of mine; and if you will have patience, although some +are lost, I am afraid, for ever, others, I am sure, may be still +recovered.” + +“Alas!” cried Lady Vandeleur, “all our diamonds are gone, and I owe +ninety thousand pounds for dress!” + +“Madam,” said the General, “you might have paved the gutter with your +own trash; you might have made debts to fifty times the sum you +mention; you might have robbed me of my mother’s coronet and ring; and +Nature might have still so far prevailed that I could have forgiven you +at last. But, madam, you have taken the Rajah’s Diamond—the Eye of +Light, as the Orientals poetically termed it—the Pride of Kashgar! You +have taken from me the Rajah’s Diamond,” he cried, raising his hands, +“and all, madam, all is at an end between us!” + +“Believe me, General Vandeleur,” she replied, “that is one of the most +agreeable speeches that ever I heard from your lips; and since we are +to be ruined, I could almost welcome the change, if it delivers me from +you. You have told me often enough that I married you for your money; +let me tell you now that I always bitterly repented the bargain; and if +you were still marriageable, and had a diamond bigger than your head, I +should counsel even my maid against a union so uninviting and +disastrous. As for you, Mr. Hartley,” she continued, turning on the +secretary, “you have sufficiently exhibited your valuable qualities in +this house; we are now persuaded that you equally lack manhood, sense, +and self-respect; and I can see only one course open for you—to +withdraw instanter, and, if possible, return no more. For your wages +you may rank as a creditor in my late husband’s bankruptcy.” + +Harry had scarcely comprehended this insulting address before the +General was down upon him with another. + +“And in the meantime,” said that personage, “follow me before the +nearest Inspector of Police. You may impose upon a simple-minded +soldier, sir, but the eye of the law will read your disreputable +secret. If I must spend my old age in poverty through your underhand +intriguing with my wife, I mean at least that you shall not remain +unpunished for your pains; and God, sir, will deny me a very +considerable satisfaction if you do not pick oakum from now until your +dying day.” + +With that, the General dragged Harry from the apartment, and hurried +him downstairs and along the street to the police-station of the +district. + + +_Here_ (says my Arabian author) _ended this deplorable business of the +bandbox_. _But to the unfortunate Secretary the whole affair was the +beginning of a new and manlier life_. _The police were easily persuaded +of his innocence_; _and_, _after he had given what help he could in the +subsequent investigations_, _he was even complemented by one of the +chiefs of the detective department on the probity and simplicity of his +behaviour_. _Several persons interested themselves in one so +unfortunate_; _and soon after he inherited a sum of money from a maiden +aunt in Worcestershire_. _With this he married Prudence_, _and set sail +for Bendigo_, _or according to another account_, _for Trincomalee_, +_exceedingly content_, _and will the best of prospects_. + + + + +STORY OF THE YOUNG MAN IN HOLY ORDERS + + +The Reverend Mr. Simon Rolles had distinguished himself in the Moral +Sciences, and was more than usually proficient in the study of +Divinity. His essay “On the Christian Doctrine of the Social +Obligations” obtained for him, at the moment of its production, a +certain celebrity in the University of Oxford; and it was understood in +clerical and learned circles that young Mr. Rolles had in contemplation +a considerable work—a folio, it was said—on the authority of the +Fathers of the Church. These attainments, these ambitious designs, +however, were far from helping him to any preferment; and he was still +in quest of his first curacy when a chance ramble in that part of +London, the peaceful and rich aspect of the garden, a desire for +solitude and study, and the cheapness of the lodging, led him to take +up his abode with Mr. Raeburn, the nurseryman of Stockdove Lane. + +It was his habit every afternoon, after he had worked seven or eight +hours on St. Ambrose or St. Chrysostom, to walk for a while in +meditation among the roses. And this was usually one of the most +productive moments of his day. But even a sincere appetite for thought, +and the excitement of grave problems awaiting solution, are not always +sufficient to preserve the mind of the philosopher against the petty +shocks and contacts of the world. And when Mr. Rolles found General +Vandeleur’s secretary, ragged and bleeding, in the company of his +landlord; when he saw both change colour and seek to avoid his +questions; and, above all, when the former denied his own identity with +the most unmoved assurance, he speedily forgot the Saints and Fathers +in the vulgar interest of curiosity. + +“I cannot be mistaken,” thought he. “That is Mr. Hartley beyond a +doubt. How comes he in such a pickle? why does he deny his name? and +what can be his business with that black-looking ruffian, my landlord?” + +As he was thus reflecting, another peculiar circumstance attracted his +attention. The face of Mr. Raeburn appeared at a low window next the +door; and, as chance directed, his eyes met those of Mr. Rolles. The +nurseryman seemed disconcerted, and even alarmed; and immediately after +the blind of the apartment was pulled sharply down. + +“This may all be very well,” reflected Mr. Rolles; “it may be all +excellently well; but I confess freely that I do not think so. +Suspicious, underhand, untruthful, fearful of observation—I believe +upon my soul,” he thought, “the pair are plotting some disgraceful +action.” + +The detective that there is in all of us awoke and became clamant in +the bosom of Mr. Rolles; and with a brisk, eager step, that bore no +resemblance to his usual gait, he proceeded to make the circuit of the +garden. When he came to the scene of Harry’s escalade, his eye was at +once arrested by a broken rosebush and marks of trampling on the mould. +He looked up, and saw scratches on the brick, and a rag of trouser +floating from a broken bottle. This, then, was the mode of entrance +chosen by Mr. Raeburn’s particular friend! It was thus that General +Vandeleur’s secretary came to admire a flower-garden! The young +clergyman whistled softly to himself as he stooped to examine the +ground. He could make out where Harry had landed from his perilous +leap; he recognised the flat foot of Mr. Raeburn where it had sunk +deeply in the soil as he pulled up the Secretary by the collar; nay, on +a closer inspection, he seemed to distinguish the marks of groping +fingers, as though something had been spilt abroad and eagerly +collected. + +“Upon my word,” he thought, “the thing grows vastly interesting.” + +And just then he caught sight of something almost entirely buried in +the earth. In an instant he had disinterred a dainty morocco case, +ornamented and clasped in gilt. It had been trodden heavily underfoot, +and thus escaped the hurried search of Mr. Raeburn. Mr. Rolles opened +the case, and drew a long breath of almost horrified astonishment; for +there lay before him, in a cradle of green velvet, a diamond of +prodigious magnitude and of the finest water. It was of the bigness of +a duck’s egg; beautifully shaped, and without a flaw; and as the sun +shone upon it, it gave forth a lustre like that of electricity, and +seemed to burn in his hand with a thousand internal fires. + +He knew little of precious stones; but the Rajah’s Diamond was a wonder +that explained itself; a village child, if he found it, would run +screaming for the nearest cottage; and a savage would prostrate himself +in adoration before so imposing a fetish. The beauty of the stone +flattered the young clergyman’s eyes; the thought of its incalculable +value overpowered his intellect. He knew that what he held in his hand +was worth more than many years’ purchase of an archiepiscopal see; that +it would build cathedrals more stately than Ely or Cologne; that he who +possessed it was set free for ever from the primal curse, and might +follow his own inclinations without concern or hurry, without let or +hindrance. And as he suddenly turned it, the rays leaped forth again +with renewed brilliancy, and seemed to pierce his very heart. + +Decisive actions are often taken in a moment and without any conscious +deliverance from the rational parts of man. So it was now with Mr. +Rolles. He glanced hurriedly round; beheld, like Mr. Raeburn before +him, nothing but the sunlit flower-garden, the tall tree-tops, and the +house with blinded windows; and in a trice he had shut the case, thrust +it into his pocket, and was hastening to his study with the speed of +guilt. + +The Reverend Simon Rolles had stolen the Rajah’s Diamond. + +Early in the afternoon the police arrived with Harry Hartley. The +nurseryman, who was beside himself with terror, readily discovered his +hoard; and the jewels were identified and inventoried in the presence +of the Secretary. As for Mr. Rolles, he showed himself in a most +obliging temper, communicated what he knew with freedom, and professed +regret that he could do no more to help the officers in their duty. + +“Still,” he added, “I suppose your business is nearly at an end.” + +“By no means,” replied the man from Scotland Yard; and he narrated the +second robbery of which Harry had been the immediate victim, and gave +the young clergyman a description of the more important jewels that +were still not found, dilating particularly on the Rajah’s Diamond. + +“It must be worth a fortune,” observed Mr. Rolles. + +“Ten fortunes—twenty fortunes,” cried the officer. + +“The more it is worth,” remarked Simon shrewdly, “the more difficult it +must be to sell. Such a thing has a physiognomy not to be disguised, +and I should fancy a man might as easily negotiate St. Paul’s +Cathedral.” + +“Oh, truly!” said the officer; “but if the thief be a man of any +intelligence, he will cut it into three or four, and there will be +still enough to make him rich.” + +“Thank you,” said the clergyman. “You cannot imagine how much your +conversation interests me.” + +Whereupon the functionary admitted that they knew many strange things +in his profession, and immediately after took his leave. + +Mr. Rolles regained his apartment. It seemed smaller and barer than +usual; the materials for his great work had never presented so little +interest; and he looked upon his library with the eye of scorn. He took +down, volume by volume, several Fathers of the Church, and glanced them +through; but they contained nothing to his purpose. + +“These old gentlemen,” thought he, “are no doubt very valuable writers, +but they seem to me conspicuously ignorant of life. Here am I, with +learning enough to be a Bishop, and I positively do not know how to +dispose of a stolen diamond. I glean a hint from a common policeman, +and, with all my folios, I cannot so much as put it into execution. +This inspires me with very low ideas of University training.” + +Herewith he kicked over his book-shelf and, putting on his hat, +hastened from the house to the club of which he was a member. In such a +place of mundane resort he hoped to find some man of good counsel and a +shrewd experience in life. In the reading-room he saw many of the +country clergy and an Archdeacon; there were three journalists and a +writer upon the Higher Metaphysic, playing pool; and at dinner only the +raff of ordinary club frequenters showed their commonplace and +obliterated countenances. None of these, thought Mr. Rolles, would know +more on dangerous topics than he knew himself; none of them were fit to +give him guidance in his present strait. At length in the smoking-room, +up many weary stairs, he hit upon a gentleman of somewhat portly build +and dressed with conspicuous plainness. He was smoking a cigar and +reading the _Fortnightly Review_; his face was singularly free from all +sign of preoccupation or fatigue; and there was something in his air +which seemed to invite confidence and to expect submission. The more +the young clergyman scrutinised his features, the more he was convinced +that he had fallen on one capable of giving pertinent advice. + +“Sir,” said he, “you will excuse my abruptness; but I judge you from +your appearance to be pre-eminently a man of the world.” + +“I have indeed considerable claims to that distinction,” replied the +stranger, laying aside his magazine with a look of mingled amusement +and surprise. + +“I, sir,” continued the Curate, “am a recluse, a student, a creature of +ink-bottles and patristic folios. A recent event has brought my folly +vividly before my eyes, and I desire to instruct myself in life. By +life,” he added, “I do not mean Thackeray’s novels; but the crimes and +secret possibilities of our society, and the principles of wise conduct +among exceptional events. I am a patient reader; can the thing be +learnt in books?” + +“You put me in a difficulty,” said the stranger. “I confess I have no +great notion of the use of books, except to amuse a railway journey; +although, I believe, there are some very exact treatises on astronomy, +the use of the globes, agriculture, and the art of making paper +flowers. Upon the less apparent provinces of life I fear you will find +nothing truthful. Yet stay,” he added, “have you read Gaboriau?” + +Mr. Rolles admitted he had never even heard the name. + +“You may gather some notions from Gaboriau,” resumed the stranger. “He +is at least suggestive; and as he is an author much studied by Prince +Bismarck, you will, at the worst, lose your time in good society.” + +“Sir,” said the Curate, “I am infinitely obliged by your politeness.” + +“You have already more than repaid me,” returned the other. + +“How?” inquired Simon. + +“By the novelty of your request,” replied the gentleman; and with a +polite gesture, as though to ask permission, he resumed the study of +the _Fortnightly Review_. + +On his way home Mr. Rolles purchased a work on precious stones and +several of Gaboriau’s novels. These last he eagerly skimmed until an +advanced hour in the morning; but although they introduced him to many +new ideas, he could nowhere discover what to do with a stolen diamond. +He was annoyed, moreover, to find the information scattered amongst +romantic story-telling, instead of soberly set forth after the manner +of a manual; and he concluded that, even if the writer had thought much +upon these subjects, he was totally lacking in educational method. For +the character and attainments of Lecoq, however, he was unable to +contain his admiration. + +“He was truly a great creature,” ruminated Mr. Rolles. “He knew the +world as I know Paley’s Evidences. There was nothing that he could not +carry to a termination with his own hand, and against the largest odds. +Heavens!” he broke out suddenly, “is not this the lesson? Must I not +learn to cut diamonds for myself?” + +It seemed to him as if he had sailed at once out of his perplexities; +he remembered that he knew a jeweller, one B. Macculloch, in Edinburgh, +who would be glad to put him in the way of the necessary training; a +few months, perhaps a few years, of sordid toil, and he would be +sufficiently expert to divide and sufficiently cunning to dispose with +advantage of the Rajah’s Diamond. That done, he might return to pursue +his researches at leisure, a wealthy and luxurious student, envied and +respected by all. Golden visions attended him through his slumber, and +he awoke refreshed and light-hearted with the morning sun. + +Mr. Raeburn’s house was on that day to be closed by the police, and +this afforded a pretext for his departure. He cheerfully prepared his +baggage, transported it to King’s Cross, where he left it in the +cloak-room, and returned to the club to while away the afternoon and +dine. + +“If you dine here to-day, Rolles,” observed an acquaintance, “you may +see two of the most remarkable men in England—Prince Florizel of +Bohemia, and old Jack Vandeleur.” + +“I have heard of the Prince,” replied Mr. Rolles; “and General +Vandeleur I have even met in society.” + +“General Vandeleur is an ass!” returned the other. “This is his brother +John, the biggest adventurer, the best judge of precious stones, and +one of the most acute diplomatists in Europe. Have you never heard of +his duel with the Duc de Val d’Orge? of his exploits and atrocities +when he was Dictator of Paraguay? of his dexterity in recovering Sir +Samuel Levi’s jewellery? nor of his services in the Indian +Mutiny—services by which the Government profited, but which the +Government dared not recognise? You make me wonder what we mean by +fame, or even by infamy; for Jack Vandeleur has prodigious claims to +both. Run downstairs,” he continued, “take a table near them, and keep +your ears open. You will hear some strange talk, or I am much misled.” + +“But how shall I know them?” inquired the clergyman. + +“Know them!” cried his friend; “why, the Prince is the finest gentleman +in Europe, the only living creature who looks like a king; and as for +Jack Vandeleur, if you can imagine Ulysses at seventy years of age, and +with a sabre-cut across his face, you have the man before you! Know +them, indeed! Why, you could pick either of them out of a Derby day!” + +Rolles eagerly hurried to the dining-room. It was as his friend had +asserted; it was impossible to mistake the pair in question. Old John +Vandeleur was of a remarkable force of body, and obviously broken to +the most difficult exercises. He had neither the carriage of a +swordsman, nor of a sailor, nor yet of one much inured to the saddle; +but something made up of all these, and the result and expression of +many different habits and dexterities. His features were bold and +aquiline; his expression arrogant and predatory; his whole appearance +that of a swift, violent, unscrupulous man of action; and his copious +white hair and the deep sabre-cut that traversed his nose and temple +added a note of savagery to a head already remarkable and menacing in +itself. + +In his companion, the Prince of Bohemia, Mr. Rolles was astonished to +recognise the gentleman who had recommended him the study of Gaboriau. +Doubtless Prince Florizel, who rarely visited the club, of which, as of +most others, he was an honorary member, had been waiting for John +Vandeleur when Simon accosted him on the previous evening. + +The other diners had modestly retired into the angles of the room, and +left the distinguished pair in a certain isolation, but the young +clergyman was unrestrained by any sentiment of awe, and, marching +boldly up, took his place at the nearest table. + +The conversation was, indeed, new to the student’s ears. The +ex-Dictator of Paraguay stated many extraordinary experiences in +different quarters of the world; and the Prince supplied a commentary +which, to a man of thought, was even more interesting than the events +themselves. Two forms of experience were thus brought together and laid +before the young clergyman; and he did not know which to admire the +most—the desperate actor or the skilled expert in life; the man who +spoke boldly of his own deeds and perils, or the man who seemed, like a +god, to know all things and to have suffered nothing. The manner of +each aptly fitted with his part in the discourse. The Dictator indulged +in brutalities alike of speech and gesture; his hand opened and shut +and fell roughly on the table; and his voice was loud and heavy. The +Prince, on the other hand, seemed the very type of urbane docility and +quiet; the least movement, the least inflection, had with him a +weightier significance than all the shouts and pantomime of his +companion; and if ever, as must frequently have been the case, he +described some experience personal to himself, it was so aptly +dissimulated as to pass unnoticed with the rest. + +At length the talk wandered on to the late robberies and the Rajah’s +Diamond. + +“That diamond would be better in the sea,” observed Prince Florizel. + +“As a Vandeleur,” replied the Dictator, “your Highness may imagine my +dissent.” + +“I speak on grounds of public policy,” pursued the Prince. “Jewels so +valuable should be reserved for the collection of a Prince or the +treasury of a great nation. To hand them about among the common sort of +men is to set a price on Virtue’s head; and if the Rajah of Kashgar—a +Prince, I understand, of great enlightenment—desired vengeance upon the +men of Europe, he could hardly have gone more efficaciously about his +purpose than by sending us this apple of discord. There is no honesty +too robust for such a trial. I myself, who have many duties and many +privileges of my own—I myself, Mr. Vandeleur, could scarce handle the +intoxicating crystal and be safe. As for you, who are a diamond hunter +by taste and profession, I do not believe there is a crime in the +calendar you would not perpetrate—I do not believe you have a friend in +the world whom you would not eagerly betray—I do not know if you have a +family, but if you have I declare you would sacrifice your children—and +all this for what? Not to be richer, nor to have more comforts or more +respect, but simply to call this diamond yours for a year or two until +you die, and now and again to open a safe and look at it as one looks +at a picture.” + +“It is true,” replied Vandeleur. “I have hunted most things, from men +and women down to mosquitos; I have dived for coral; I have followed +both whales and tigers; and a diamond is the tallest quarry of the lot. +It has beauty and worth; it alone can properly reward the ardours of +the chase. At this moment, as your Highness may fancy, I am upon the +trail; I have a sure knack, a wide experience; I know every stone of +price in my brother’s collection as a shepherd knows his sheep; and I +wish I may die if I do not recover them every one!” + +“Sir Thomas Vandeleur will have great cause to thank you,” said the +Prince. + +“I am not so sure,” returned the Dictator, with a laugh. “One of the +Vandeleurs will. Thomas or John—Peter or Paul—we are all apostles.” + +“I did not catch your observation,” said the Prince with some disgust. + +And at the same moment the waiter informed Mr. Vandeleur that his cab +was at the door. + +Mr. Rolles glanced at the clock, and saw that he also must be moving; +and the coincidence struck him sharply and unpleasantly, for he desired +to see no more of the diamond hunter. + +Much study having somewhat shaken the young man’s nerves, he was in the +habit of travelling in the most luxurious manner; and for the present +journey he had taken a sofa in the sleeping carriage. + +“You will be very comfortable,” said the guard; “there is no one in +your compartment, and only one old gentleman in the other end.” + +It was close upon the hour, and the tickets were being examined, when +Mr. Rolles beheld this other fellow-passenger ushered by several +porters into his place; certainly, there was not another man in the +world whom he would not have preferred—for it was old John Vandeleur, +the ex-Dictator. + +The sleeping carriages on the Great Northern line were divided into +three compartments—one at each end for travellers, and one in the +centre fitted with the conveniences of a lavatory. A door running in +grooves separated each of the others from the lavatory; but as there +were neither bolts nor locks, the whole suite was practically common +ground. + +When Mr. Rolles had studied his position, he perceived himself without +defence. If the Dictator chose to pay him a visit in the course of the +night, he could do no less than receive it; he had no means of +fortification, and lay open to attack as if he had been lying in the +fields. This situation caused him some agony of mind. He recalled with +alarm the boastful statements of his fellow-traveller across the +dining-table, and the professions of immorality which he had heard him +offering to the disgusted Prince. Some persons, he remembered to have +read, are endowed with a singular quickness of perception for the +neighbourhood of precious metals; through walls and even at +considerable distances they are said to divine the presence of gold. +Might it not be the same with diamonds? he wondered; and if so, who was +more likely to enjoy this transcendental sense than the person who +gloried in the appellation of the Diamond Hunter? From such a man he +recognised that he had everything to fear, and longed eagerly for the +arrival of the day. + +In the meantime he neglected no precaution, concealed his diamond in +the most internal pocket of a system of great-coats, and devoutly +recommended himself to the care of Providence. + +The train pursued its usual even and rapid course; and nearly half the +journey had been accomplished before slumber began to triumph over +uneasiness in the breast of Mr. Rolles. For some time he resisted its +influence; but it grew upon him more and more, and a little before York +he was fain to stretch himself upon one of the couches and suffer his +eyes to close; and almost at the same instant consciousness deserted +the young clergyman. His last thought was of his terrifying neighbour. + +When he awoke it was still pitch dark, except for the flicker of the +veiled lamp; and the continual roaring and oscillation testified to the +unrelaxed velocity of the train. He sat upright in a panic, for he had +been tormented by the most uneasy dreams; it was some seconds before he +recovered his self-command; and even after he had resumed a recumbent +attitude sleep continued to flee him, and he lay awake with his brain +in a state of violent agitation, and his eyes fixed upon the lavatory +door. He pulled his clerical felt hat over his brow still farther to +shield him from the light; and he adopted the usual expedients, such as +counting a thousand or banishing thought, by which experienced invalids +are accustomed to woo the approach of sleep. In the case of Mr. Rolles +they proved one and all vain; he was harassed by a dozen different +anxieties—the old man in the other end of the carriage haunted him in +the most alarming shapes; and in whatever attitude he chose to lie the +diamond in his pocket occasioned him a sensible physical distress. It +burned, it was too large, it bruised his ribs; and there were +infinitesimal fractions of a second in which he had half a mind to +throw it from the window. + +While he was thus lying, a strange incident took place. + +The sliding-door into the lavatory stirred a little, and then a little +more, and was finally drawn back for the space of about twenty inches. +The lamp in the lavatory was unshaded, and in the lighted aperture thus +disclosed, Mr. Rolles could see the head of Mr. Vandeleur in an +attitude of deep attention. He was conscious that the gaze of the +Dictator rested intently on his own face; and the instinct of +self-preservation moved him to hold his breath, to refrain from the +least movement, and keeping his eyes lowered, to watch his visitor from +underneath the lashes. After about a moment, the head was withdrawn and +the door of the lavatory replaced. + +The Dictator had not come to attack, but to observe; his action was not +that of a man threatening another, but that of a man who was himself +threatened; if Mr. Rolles was afraid of him, it appeared that he, in +his turn, was not quite easy on the score of Mr. Rolles. He had come, +it would seem, to make sure that his only fellow-traveller was asleep; +and, when satisfied on that point, he had at once withdrawn. + +The clergyman leaped to his feet. The extreme of terror had given place +to a reaction of foolhardy daring. He reflected that the rattle of the +flying train concealed all other sounds, and determined, come what +might, to return the visit he had just received. Divesting himself of +his cloak, which might have interfered with the freedom of his action, +he entered the lavatory and paused to listen. As he had expected, there +was nothing to be heard above the roar of the train’s progress; and +laying his hand on the door at the farther side, he proceeded +cautiously to draw it back for about six inches. Then he stopped, and +could not contain an ejaculation of surprise. + +John Vandeleur wore a fur travelling cap with lappets to protect his +ears; and this may have combined with the sound of the express to keep +him in ignorance of what was going forward. It is certain, at least, +that he did not raise his head, but continued without interruption to +pursue his strange employment. Between his feet stood an open hat-box; +in one hand he held the sleeve of his sealskin great-coat; in the other +a formidable knife, with which he had just slit up the lining of the +sleeve. Mr. Rolles had read of persons carrying money in a belt; and as +he had no acquaintance with any but cricket-belts, he had never been +able rightly to conceive how this was managed. But here was a stranger +thing before his eyes; for John Vandeleur, it appeared, carried +diamonds in the lining of his sleeve; and even as the young clergyman +gazed, he could see one glittering brilliant drop after another into +the hat-box. + +He stood riveted to the spot, following this unusual business with his +eyes. The diamonds were, for the most part, small, and not easily +distinguishable either in shape or fire. Suddenly the Dictator appeared +to find a difficulty; he employed both hands and stooped over his task; +but it was not until after considerable manoeuvring that he extricated +a large tiara of diamonds from the lining, and held it up for some +seconds’ examination before he placed it with the others in the +hat-box. The tiara was a ray of light to Mr. Rolles; he immediately +recognised it for a part of the treasure stolen from Harry Hartley by +the loiterer. There was no room for mistake; it was exactly as the +detective had described it; there were the ruby stars, with a great +emerald in the centre; there were the interlacing crescents; and there +were the pear-shaped pendants, each a single stone, which gave a +special value to Lady Vandeleur’s tiara. + +Mr. Rolles was hugely relieved. The Dictator was as deeply in the +affair as he was; neither could tell tales upon the other. In the first +glow of happiness, the clergyman suffered a deep sigh to escape him; +and as his bosom had become choked and his throat dry during his +previous suspense, the sigh was followed by a cough. + +Mr. Vandeleur looked up; his face contracted with the blackest and most +deadly passion; his eyes opened widely, and his under jaw dropped in an +astonishment that was upon the brink of fury. By an instinctive +movement he had covered the hat-box with the coat. For half a minute +the two men stared upon each other in silence. It was not a long +interval, but it sufficed for Mr. Rolles; he was one of those who think +swiftly on dangerous occasions; he decided on a course of action of a +singularly daring nature; and although he felt he was setting his life +upon the hazard, he was the first to break silence. + +“I beg your pardon,” said he. + +The Dictator shivered slightly, and when he spoke his voice was hoarse. + +“What do you want here?” he asked. + +“I take a particular interest in diamonds,” replied Mr. Rolles, with an +air of perfect self-possession. “Two connoisseurs should be acquainted. +I have here a trifle of my own which may perhaps serve for an +introduction.” + +And so saying, he quietly took the case from his pocket, showed the +Rajah’s Diamond to the Dictator for an instant, and replaced it in +security. + +“It was once your brother’s,” he added. + +John Vandeleur continued to regard him with a look of almost painful +amazement; but he neither spoke nor moved. + +“I was pleased to observe,” resumed the young man, “that we have gems +from the same collection.” + +The Dictator’s surprise overpowered him. + +“I beg your pardon,” he said; “I begin to perceive that I am growing +old! I am positively not prepared for little incidents like this. But +set my mind at rest upon one point: do my eyes deceive me, or are you +indeed a parson?” + +“I am in holy orders,” answered Mr. Rolles. + +“Well,” cried the other, “as long as I live I will never hear another +word against the cloth!” + +“You flatter me,” said Mr. Rolles. + +“Pardon me,” replied Vandeleur; “pardon me, young man. You are no +coward, but it still remains to be seen whether you are not the worst +of fools. Perhaps,” he continued, leaning back upon his seat, “perhaps +you would oblige me with a few particulars. I must suppose you had some +object in the stupefying impudence of your proceedings, and I confess I +have a curiosity to know it.” + +“It is very simple,” replied the clergyman; “it proceeds from my great +inexperience of life.” + +“I shall be glad to be persuaded,” answered Vandeleur. + +Whereupon Mr. Rolles told him the whole story of his connection with +the Rajah’s Diamond, from the time he found it in Raeburn’s garden to +the time when he left London in the Flying Scotchman. He added a brief +sketch of his feelings and thoughts during the journey, and concluded +in these words:— + +“When I recognised the tiara I knew we were in the same attitude +towards Society, and this inspired me with a hope, which I trust you +will say was not ill-founded, that you might become in some sense my +partner in the difficulties and, of course, the profits of my +situation. To one of your special knowledge and obviously great +experience the negotiation of the diamond would give but little +trouble, while to me it was a matter of impossibility. On the other +part, I judged that I might lose nearly as much by cutting the diamond, +and that not improbably with an unskilful hand, as might enable me to +pay you with proper generosity for your assistance. The subject was a +delicate one to broach; and perhaps I fell short in delicacy. But I +must ask you to remember that for me the situation was a new one, and I +was entirely unacquainted with the etiquette in use. I believe without +vanity that I could have married or baptized you in a very acceptable +manner; but every man has his own aptitudes, and this sort of bargain +was not among the list of my accomplishments.” + +“I do not wish to flatter you,” replied Vandeleur; “but upon my word, +you have an unusual disposition for a life of crime. You have more +accomplishments than you imagine; and though I have encountered a +number of rogues in different quarters of the world, I never met with +one so unblushing as yourself. Cheer up, Mr. Rolles, you are in the +right profession at last! As for helping you, you may command me as you +will. I have only a day’s business in Edinburgh on a little matter for +my brother; and once that is concluded, I return to Paris, where I +usually reside. If you please, you may accompany me thither. And before +the end of a month I believe I shall have brought your little business +to a satisfactory conclusion.” + + +(_At this point_, _contrary to all the canons of his art_, _our Arabian +author breaks off the_ Story of the Young Man in Holy Orders. _I regret +and condemn such practices_; _but I must follow my original_, _and +refer the reader for the conclusion of Mr. Rolles’ adventures to the +next number of the cycle_, _the_ Story of the House with the Green +Blinds.) + + + + +STORY OF THE HOUSE WITH THE GREEN BLINDS + + +Francis Scrymgeour, a clerk in the Bank of Scotland at Edinburgh, had +attained the age of twenty-five in a sphere of quiet, creditable, and +domestic life. His mother died while he was young; but his father, a +man of sense and probity, had given him an excellent education at +school, and brought him up at home to orderly and frugal habits. +Francis, who was of a docile and affectionate disposition, profited by +these advantages with zeal, and devoted himself heart and soul to his +employment. A walk upon Saturday afternoon, an occasional dinner with +members of his family, and a yearly tour of a fortnight in the +Highlands or even on the continent of Europe, were his principal +distractions, and, he grew rapidly in favour with his superiors, and +enjoyed already a salary of nearly two hundred pounds a year, with the +prospect of an ultimate advance to almost double that amount. Few young +men were more contented, few more willing and laborious than Francis +Scrymgeour. Sometimes at night, when he had read the daily paper, he +would play upon the flute to amuse his father, for whose qualities he +entertained a great respect. + +One day he received a note from a well-known firm of Writers to the +Signet, requesting the favour of an immediate interview with him. The +letter was marked “Private and Confidential,” and had been addressed to +him at the bank, instead of at home—two unusual circumstances which +made him obey the summons with the more alacrity. The senior member of +the firm, a man of much austerity of manner, made him gravely welcome, +requested him to take a seat, and proceeded to explain the matter in +hand in the picked expressions of a veteran man of business. A person, +who must remain nameless, but of whom the lawyer had every reason to +think well—a man, in short, of some station in the country—desired to +make Francis an annual allowance of five hundred pounds. The capital +was to be placed under the control of the lawyer’s firm and two +trustees who must also remain anonymous. There were conditions annexed +to this liberality, but he was of opinion that his new client would +find nothing either excessive or dishonourable in the terms; and he +repeated these two words with emphasis, as though he desired to commit +himself to nothing more. + +Francis asked their nature. + +“The conditions,” said the Writer to the Signet, “are, as I have twice +remarked, neither dishonourable nor excessive. At the same time I +cannot conceal from you that they are most unusual. Indeed, the whole +case is very much out of our way; and I should certainly have refused +it had it not been for the reputation of the gentleman who entrusted it +to my care, and, let me add, Mr. Scrymgeour, the interest I have been +led to take in yourself by many complimentary and, I have no doubt, +well-deserved reports.” + +Francis entreated him to be more specific. + +“You cannot picture my uneasiness as to these conditions,” he said. + +“They are two,” replied the lawyer, “only two; and the sum, as you will +remember, is five hundred a-year—and unburdened, I forgot to add, +unburdened.” + +And the lawyer raised his eyebrows at him with solemn gusto. + +“The first,” he resumed, “is of remarkable simplicity. You must be in +Paris by the afternoon of Sunday, the 15th; there you will find, at the +box-office of the Comédie Française, a ticket for admission taken in +your name and waiting you. You are requested to sit out the whole +performance in the seat provided, and that is all.” + +“I should certainly have preferred a week-day,” replied Francis. “ But, +after all, once in a way—” + +“And in Paris, my dear sir,” added the lawyer soothingly. “I believe I +am something of a precisian myself, but upon such a consideration, and +in Paris, I should not hesitate an instant.” + +And the pair laughed pleasantly together. + +“The other is of more importance,” continued the Writer to the Signet. +“It regards your marriage. My client, taking a deep interest in your +welfare, desires to advise you absolutely in the choice of a wife. +Absolutely, you understand,” he repeated. + +“Let us be more explicit, if you please,” returned Francis. “Am I to +marry any one, maid or widow, black or white, whom this invisible +person chooses to propose?” + +“I was to assure you that suitability of age and position should be a +principle with your benefactor,” replied the lawyer. “As to race, I +confess the difficulty had not occurred to me, and I failed to inquire; +but if you like I will make a note of it at once, and advise you on the +earliest opportunity.” + +“Sir,” said Francis, “it remains to be seen whether this whole affair +is not a most unworthy fraud. The circumstances are inexplicable—I had +almost said incredible; and until I see a little more daylight, and +some plausible motive, I confess I should be very sorry to put a hand +to the transaction. I appeal to you in this difficulty for information. +I must learn what is at the bottom of it all. If you do not know, +cannot guess, or are not at liberty to tell me, I shall take my hat and +go back to my bank as came.” + +“I do not know,” answered the lawyer, “but I have an excellent guess. +Your father, and no one else, is at the root of this apparently +unnatural business.” + +“My father!” cried Francis, in extreme disdain. “Worthy man, I know +every thought of his mind, every penny of his fortune!” + +“You misinterpret my words,” said the lawyer. “I do not refer to Mr. +Scrymgeour, senior; for he is not your father. When he and his wife +came to Edinburgh, you were already nearly one year old, and you had +not yet been three months in their care. The secret has been well kept; +but such is the fact. Your father is unknown, and I say again that I +believe him to be the original of the offers I am charged at present to +transmit to you.” + +It would be impossible to exaggerate the astonishment of Francis +Scrymgeour at this unexpected information. He pled this confusion to +the lawyer. + +“Sir,” said he, “after a piece of news so startling, you must grant me +some hours for thought. You shall know this evening what conclusion I +have reached.” + +The lawyer commended his prudence; and Francis, excusing himself upon +some pretext at the bank, took a long walk into the country, and fully +considered the different steps and aspects of the case. A pleasant +sense of his own importance rendered him the more deliberate: but the +issue was from the first not doubtful. His whole carnal man leaned +irresistibly towards the five hundred a year, and the strange +conditions with which it was burdened; he discovered in his heart an +invincible repugnance to the name of Scrymgeour, which he had never +hitherto disliked; he began to despise the narrow and unromantic +interests of his former life; and when once his mind was fairly made +up, he walked with a new feeling of strength and freedom, and nourished +himself with the gayest anticipations. + +He said but a word to the lawyer, and immediately received a cheque for +two quarters’ arrears; for the allowance was ante-dated from the first +of January. With this in his pocket, he walked home. The flat in +Scotland Street looked mean in his eyes; his nostrils, for the first +time, rebelled against the odour of broth; and he observed little +defects of manner in his adoptive father which filled him with surprise +and almost with disgust. The next day, he determined, should see him on +his way to Paris. + +In that city, where he arrived long before the appointed date, he put +up at a modest hotel frequented by English and Italians, and devoted +himself to improvement in the French tongue; for this purpose he had a +master twice a week, entered into conversation with loiterers in the +Champs Elysées, and nightly frequented the theatre. He had his whole +toilette fashionably renewed; and was shaved and had his hair dressed +every morning by a barber in a neighbouring street. This gave him +something of a foreign air, and seemed to wipe off the reproach of his +past years. + +At length, on the Saturday afternoon, he betook himself to the +box-office of the theatre in the Rue Richelieu. No sooner had he +mentioned his name than the clerk produced the order in an envelope of +which the address was scarcely dry. + +“It has been taken this moment,” said the clerk. + +“Indeed!” said Francis. “May I ask what the gentleman was like?” + +“Your friend is easy to describe,” replied the official. “He is old and +strong and beautiful, with white hair and a sabre-cut across his face. +You cannot fail to recognise so marked a person.” + +“No, indeed,” returned Francis; “and I thank you for your politeness.” + +“He cannot yet be far distant,” added the clerk. “If you make haste you +might still overtake him.” + +Francis did not wait to be twice told; he ran precipitately from the +theatre into the middle of the street and looked in all directions. +More than one white-haired man was within sight; but though he overtook +each of them in succession, all wanted the sabre-cut. For nearly +half-an-hour he tried one street after another in the neighbourhood, +until at length, recognising the folly of continued search, he started +on a walk to compose his agitated feelings; for this proximity of an +encounter with him to whom he could not doubt he owed the day had +profoundly moved the young man. + +It chanced that his way lay up the Rue Drouot and thence up the Rue des +Martyrs; and chance, in this case, served him better than all the +forethought in the world. For on the outer boulevard he saw two men in +earnest colloquy upon a seat. One was dark, young, and handsome, +secularly dressed, but with an indelible clerical stamp; the other +answered in every particular to the description given him by the clerk. +Francis felt his heart beat high in his bosom; he knew he was now about +to hear the voice of his father; and making a wide circuit, he +noiselessly took his place behind the couple in question, who were too +much interested in their talk to observe much else. As Francis had +expected, the conversation was conducted in the English language. + +“Your suspicions begin to annoy me, Rolles,” said the older man. “I +tell you I am doing my utmost; a man cannot lay his hand on millions in +a moment. Have I not taken you up, a mere stranger, out of pure +good-will? Are you not living largely on my bounty?” + +“On your advances, Mr. Vandeleur,” corrected the other. + +“Advances, if you choose; and interest instead of goodwill, if you +prefer it,” returned Vandeleur angrily. “I am not here to pick +expressions. Business is business; and your business, let me remind +you, is too muddy for such airs. Trust me, or leave me alone and find +some one else; but let us have an end, for God’s sake, of your +jeremiads.” + +“I am beginning to learn the world,” replied the other, “and I see that +you have every reason to play me false, and not one to deal honestly. I +am not here to pick expressions either; you wish the diamond for +yourself; you know you do—you dare not deny it. Have you not already +forged my name, and searched my lodging in my absence? I understand the +cause of your delays; you are lying in wait; you are the diamond +hunter, forsooth; and sooner or later, by fair means or foul, you’ll +lay your hands upon it. I tell you, it must stop; push me much further +and I promise you a surprise.” + +“It does not become you to use threats,” returned Vandeleur. “Two can +play at that. My brother is here in Paris; the police are on the alert; +and if you persist in wearying me with your caterwauling, I will +arrange a little astonishment for you, Mr. Rolles. But mine shall be +once and for all. Do you understand, or would you prefer me to tell it +you in Hebrew? There is an end to all things, and you have come to the +end of my patience. Tuesday, at seven; not a day, not an hour sooner, +not the least part of a second, if it were to save your life. And if +you do not choose to wait, you may go to the bottomless pit for me, and +welcome.” + +And so saying, the Dictator arose from the bench, and marched off in +the direction of Montmartre, shaking his head and swinging his cane +with a most furious air; while his companion remained where he was, in +an attitude of great dejection. + +Francis was at the pitch of surprise and horror; his sentiments had +been shocked to the last degree; the hopeful tenderness with which he +had taken his place upon the bench was transformed into repulsion and +despair; old Mr. Scrymgeour, he reflected, was a far more kindly and +creditable parent than this dangerous and violent intriguer; but he +retained his presence of mind, and suffered not a moment to elapse +before he was on the trail of the Dictator. + +That gentleman’s fury carried him forward at a brisk pace, and he was +so completely occupied in his angry thoughts that he never so much as +cast a look behind him till he reached his own door. + +His house stood high up in the Rue Lepic, commanding a view of all +Paris and enjoying the pure air of the heights. It was two storeys +high, with green blinds and shutters; and all the windows looking on +the street were hermetically closed. Tops of trees showed over the high +garden wall, and the wall was protected by _chevaux-de-frise_. The +Dictator paused a moment while he searched his pocket for a key; and +then, opening a gate, disappeared within the enclosure. + +Francis looked about him; the neighbourhood was very lonely, the house +isolated in its garden. It seemed as if his observation must here come +to an abrupt end. A second glance, however, showed him a tall house +next door presenting a gable to the garden, and in this gable a single +window. He passed to the front and saw a ticket offering unfurnished +lodgings by the month; and, on inquiry, the room which commanded the +Dictator’s garden proved to be one of those to let. Francis did not +hesitate a moment; he took the room, paid an advance upon the rent, and +returned to his hotel to seek his baggage. + +The old man with the sabre-cut might or might not be his father; he +might or he might not be upon the true scent; but he was certainly on +the edge of an exciting mystery, and he promised himself that he would +not relax his observation until he had got to the bottom of the secret. + +From the window of his new apartment Francis Scrymgeour commanded a +complete view into the garden of the house with the green blinds. +Immediately below him a very comely chestnut with wide boughs sheltered +a pair of rustic tables where people might dine in the height of +summer. On all sides save one a dense vegetation concealed the soil; +but there, between the tables and the house, he saw a patch of gravel +walk leading from the verandah to the garden-gate. Studying the place +from between the boards of the Venetian shutters, which he durst not +open for fear of attracting attention, Francis observed but little to +indicate the manners of the inhabitants, and that little argued no more +than a close reserve and a taste for solitude. The garden was +conventual, the house had the air of a prison. The green blinds were +all drawn down upon the outside; the door into the verandah was closed; +the garden, as far as he could see it, was left entirely to itself in +the evening sunshine. A modest curl of smoke from a single chimney +alone testified to the presence of living people. + +In order that he might not be entirely idle, and to give a certain +colour to his way of life, Francis had purchased Euclid’s Geometry in +French, which he set himself to copy and translate on the top of his +portmanteau and seated on the floor against the wall; for he was +equally without chair or table. From time to time he would rise and +cast a glance into the enclosure of the house with the green blinds; +but the windows remained obstinately closed and the garden empty. + +Only late in the evening did anything occur to reward his continued +attention. Between nine and ten the sharp tinkle of a bell aroused him +from a fit of dozing; and he sprang to his observatory in time to hear +an important noise of locks being opened and bars removed, and to see +Mr. Vandeleur, carrying a lantern and clothed in a flowing robe of +black velvet with a skull-cap to match, issue from under the verandah +and proceed leisurely towards the garden gate. The sound of bolts and +bars was then repeated; and a moment after Francis perceived the +Dictator escorting into the house, in the mobile light of the lantern, +an individual of the lowest and most despicable appearance. + +Half-an-hour afterwards the visitor was reconducted to the street; and +Mr. Vandeleur, setting his light upon one of the rustic tables, +finished a cigar with great deliberation under the foliage of the +chestnut. Francis, peering through a clear space among the leaves, was +able to follow his gestures as he threw away the ash or enjoyed a +copious inhalation; and beheld a cloud upon the old man’s brow and a +forcible action of the lips, which testified to some deep and probably +painful train of thought. The cigar was already almost at an end, when +the voice of a young girl was heard suddenly crying the hour from the +interior of the house. + +“In a moment,” replied John Vandeleur. + +And, with that, he threw away the stump and, taking up the lantern, +sailed away under the verandah for the night. As soon as the door was +closed, absolute darkness fell upon the house; Francis might try his +eyesight as much as he pleased, he could not detect so much as a single +chink of light below a blind; and he concluded, with great good sense, +that the bed-chambers were all upon the other side. + +Early the next morning (for he was early awake after an uncomfortable +night upon the floor), he saw cause to adopt a different explanation. +The blinds rose, one after another, by means of a spring in the +interior, and disclosed steel shutters such as we see on the front of +shops; these in their turn were rolled up by a similar contrivance; and +for the space of about an hour, the chambers were left open to the +morning air. At the end of that time Mr. Vandeleur, with his own hand, +once more closed the shutters and replaced the blinds from within. + +While Francis was still marvelling at these precautions, the door +opened and a young girl came forth to look about her in the garden. It +was not two minutes before she re-entered the house, but even in that +short time he saw enough to convince him that she possessed the most +unusual attractions. His curiosity was not only highly excited by this +incident, but his spirits were improved to a still more notable degree. +The alarming manners and more than equivocal life of his father ceased +from that moment to prey upon his mind; from that moment he embraced +his new family with ardour; and whether the young lady should prove his +sister or his wife, he felt convinced she was an angel in disguise. So +much was this the case that he was seized with a sudden horror when he +reflected how little he really knew, and how possible it was that he +had followed the wrong person when he followed Mr. Vandeleur. + +The porter, whom he consulted, could afford him little information; +but, such as it was, it had a mysterious and questionable sound. The +person next door was an English gentleman of extraordinary wealth, and +proportionately eccentric in his tastes and habits. He possessed great +collections, which he kept in the house beside him; and it was to +protect these that he had fitted the place with steel shutters, +elaborate fastenings, and _chevaux-de-frise_ along the garden wall. He +lived much alone, in spite of some strange visitors with whom, it +seemed, he had business to transact; and there was no one else in the +house, except Mademoiselle and an old woman servant. + +“Is Mademoiselle his daughter?” inquired Francis. + +“Certainly,” replied the porter. “Mademoiselle is the daughter of the +house; and strange it is to see how she is made to work. For all his +riches, it is she who goes to market; and every day in the week you may +see her going by with a basket on her arm.” + +“And the collections?” asked the other. + +“Sir,” said the man, “they are immensely valuable. More I cannot tell +you. Since M. de Vandeleur’s arrival no one in the quarter has so much +as passed the door.” + +“Suppose not,” returned Francis, “you must surely have some notion what +these famous galleries contain. Is it pictures, silks, statues, jewels, +or what?” + +“My faith, sir,” said the fellow with a shrug, “it might be carrots, +and still I could not tell you. How should I know? The house is kept +like a garrison, as you perceive.” + +And then as Francis was returning disappointed to his room, the porter +called him back. + +“I have just remembered, sir,” said he. “M. de Vandeleur has been in +all parts of the world, and I once heard the old woman declare that he +had brought many diamonds back with him. If that be the truth, there +must be a fine show behind those shutters.” + +By an early hour on Sunday Francis was in his place at the theatre. The +seat which had been taken for him was only two or three numbers from +the left-hand side, and directly opposite one of the lower boxes. As +the seat had been specially chosen there was doubtless something to be +learned from its position; and he judged by an instinct that the box +upon his right was, in some way or other, to be connected with the +drama in which he ignorantly played a part. Indeed, it was so situated +that its occupants could safely observe him from beginning to end of +the piece, if they were so minded; while, profiting by the depth, they +could screen themselves sufficiently well from any counter-examination +on his side. He promised himself not to leave it for a moment out of +sight; and whilst he scanned the rest of the theatre, or made a show of +attending to the business of the stage, he always kept a corner of an +eye upon the empty box. + +The second act had been some time in progress, and was even drawing +towards a close, when the door opened and two persons entered and +ensconced themselves in the darkest of the shade. Francis could hardly +control his emotion. It was Mr. Vandeleur and his daughter. The blood +came and went in his arteries and veins with stunning activity; his +ears sang; his head turned. He dared not look lest he should awake +suspicion; his play-bill, which he kept reading from end to end and +over and over again, turned from white to red before his eyes; and when +he cast a glance upon the stage, it seemed incalculably far away, and +he found the voices and gestures of the actors to the last degree +impertinent and absurd. + +From time to time he risked a momentary look in the direction which +principally interested him; and once at least he felt certain that his +eyes encountered those of the young girl. A shock passed over his body, +and he saw all the colours of the rainbow. What would he not have given +to overhear what passed between the Vandeleurs? What would he not have +given for the courage to take up his opera-glass and steadily inspect +their attitude and expression? There, for aught he knew, his whole life +was being decided—and he not able to interfere, not able even to follow +the debate, but condemned to sit and suffer where he was, in impotent +anxiety. + +At last the act came to an end. The curtain fell, and the people around +him began to leave their places, for the interval. It was only natural +that he should follow their example; and if he did so, it was not only +natural but necessary that he should pass immediately in front of the +box in question. Summoning all his courage, but keeping his eyes +lowered, Francis drew near the spot. His progress was slow, for the old +gentleman before him moved with incredible deliberation, wheezing as he +went. What was he to do? Should he address the Vandeleurs by name as he +went by? Should he take the flower from his button-hole and throw it +into the box? Should he raise his face and direct one long and +affectionate look upon the lady who was either his sister or his +betrothed? As he found himself thus struggling among so many +alternatives, he had a vision of his old equable existence in the bank, +and was assailed by a thought of regret for the past. + +By this time he had arrived directly opposite the box; and although he +was still undetermined what to do or whether to do anything, he turned +his head and lifted his eyes. No sooner had he done so than he uttered +a cry of disappointment and remained rooted to the spot. The box was +empty. During his slow advance Mr. Vandeleur and his daughter had +quietly slipped away. + +A polite person in his rear reminded him that he was stopping the path; +and he moved on again with mechanical footsteps, and suffered the crowd +to carry him unresisting out of the theatre. Once in the street, the +pressure ceasing, he came to a halt, and the cool night air speedily +restored him to the possession of his faculties. He was surprised to +find that his head ached violently, and that he remembered not one word +of the two acts which he had witnessed. As the excitement wore away, it +was succeeded by an overweening appetite for sleep, and he hailed a cab +and drove to his lodging in a state of extreme exhaustion and some +disgust of life. + +Next morning he lay in wait for Miss Vandeleur on her road to market, +and by eight o’clock beheld her stepping down a lane. She was simply, +and even poorly, attired; but in the carriage of her head and body +there was something flexible and noble that would have lent distinction +to the meanest toilette. Even her basket, so aptly did she carry it, +became her like an ornament. It seemed to Francis, as he slipped into a +doorway, that the sunshine followed and the shadows fled before her as +she walked; and he was conscious, for the first time, of a bird singing +in a cage above the lane. + +He suffered her to pass the doorway, and then, coming forth once more, +addressed her by name from behind. “Miss Vandeleur,” said he. + +She turned and, when she saw who he was, became deadly pale. + +“Pardon me,” he continued; “Heaven knows I had no will to startle you; +and, indeed, there should be nothing startling in the presence of one +who wishes you so well as I do. And, believe me, I am acting rather +from necessity than choice. We have many things in common, and I am +sadly in the dark. There is much that I should be doing, and my hands +are tied. I do not know even what to feel, nor who are my friends and +enemies.” + +She found her voice with an effort. + +“I do not know who you are,” she said. + +“Ah, yes! Miss Vandeleur, you do,” returned Francis “better than I do +myself. Indeed, it is on that, above all, that I seek light. Tell me +what you know,” he pleaded. “Tell me who I am, who you are, and how our +destinies are intermixed. Give me a little help with my life, Miss +Vandeleur—only a word or two to guide me, only the name of my father, +if you will—and I shall be grateful and content.” + +“I will not attempt to deceive you,” she replied. “I know who you are, +but I am not at liberty to say.” + +“Tell me, at least, that you have forgiven my presumption, and I shall +wait with all the patience I have,” he said. “If I am not to know, I +must do without. It is cruel, but I can bear more upon a push. Only do +not add to my troubles the thought that I have made an enemy of you.” + +“You did only what was natural,” she said, “and I have nothing to +forgive you. Farewell.” + +“Is it to be _farewell_?” he asked. + +“Nay, that I do not know myself,” she answered. “Farewell for the +present, if you like.” + +And with these words she was gone. + +Francis returned to his lodging in a state of considerable commotion of +mind. He made the most trifling progress with his Euclid for that +forenoon, and was more often at the window than at his improvised +writing-table. But beyond seeing the return of Miss Vandeleur, and the +meeting between her and her father, who was smoking a Trichinopoli +cigar in the verandah, there was nothing notable in the neighbourhood +of the house with the green blinds before the time of the mid-day meal. +The young man hastily allayed his appetite in a neighbouring +restaurant, and returned with the speed of unallayed curiosity to the +house in the Rue Lepic. A mounted servant was leading a saddle-horse to +and fro before the garden wall; and the porter of Francis’s lodging was +smoking a pipe against the door-post, absorbed in contemplation of the +livery and the steeds. + +“Look!” he cried to the young man, “what fine cattle! what an elegant +costume! They belong to the brother of M. de Vandeleur, who is now +within upon a visit. He is a great man, a general, in your country; and +you doubtless know him well by reputation.” + +“I confess,” returned Francis, “that I have never heard of General +Vandeleur before. We have many officers of that grade, and my pursuits +have been exclusively civil.” + +“It is he,” replied the porter, “who lost the great diamond of the +Indies. Of that at least you must have read often in the papers.” + +As soon as Francis could disengage himself from the porter he ran +upstairs and hurried to the window. Immediately below the clear space +in the chestnut leaves, the two gentlemen were seated in conversation +over a cigar. The General, a red, military-looking man, offered some +traces of a family resemblance to his brother; he had something of the +same features, something, although very little, of the same free and +powerful carriage; but he was older, smaller, and more common in air; +his likeness was that of a caricature, and he seemed altogether a poor +and debile being by the side of the Dictator. + +They spoke in tones so low, leaning over the table with every +appearance of interest, that Francis could catch no more than a word or +two on an occasion. For as little as he heard, he was convinced that +the conversation turned upon himself and his own career; several times +the name of Scrymgeour reached his ear, for it was easy to distinguish, +and still more frequently he fancied he could distinguish the name +Francis. + +At length the General, as if in a hot anger, broke forth into several +violent exclamations. + +“Francis Vandeleur!” he cried, accentuating the last word. “Francis +Vandeleur, I tell you.” + +The Dictator made a movement of his whole body, half affirmative, half +contemptuous, but his answer was inaudible to the young man. + +Was he the Francis Vandeleur in question? he wondered. Were they +discussing the name under which he was to be married? Or was the whole +affair a dream and a delusion of his own conceit and self-absorption? + +After another interval of inaudible talk, dissension seemed again to +arise between the couple underneath the chestnut, and again the General +raised his voice angrily so as to be audible to Francis. + +“My wife?” he cried. “I have done with my wife for good. I will not +hear her name. I am sick of her very name.” + +And he swore aloud and beat the table with his fist. + +The Dictator appeared, by his gestures, to pacify him after a paternal +fashion; and a little after he conducted him to the garden-gate. The +pair shook hands affectionately enough; but as soon as the door had +closed behind his visitor, John Vandeleur fell into a fit of laughter +which sounded unkindly and even devilish in the ears of Francis +Scrymgeour. + +So another day had passed, and little more learnt. But the young man +remembered that the morrow was Tuesday, and promised himself some +curious discoveries; all might be well, or all might be ill; he was +sure, at least, to glean some curious information, and, perhaps, by +good luck, get at the heart of the mystery which surrounded his father +and his family. + +As the hour of the dinner drew near many preparations were made in the +garden of the house with the green blinds. That table which was partly +visible to Francis through the chestnut leaves was destined to serve as +a sideboard, and carried relays of plates and the materials for salad: +the other, which was almost entirely concealed, had been set apart for +the diners, and Francis could catch glimpses of white cloth and silver +plate. + +Mr. Rolles arrived, punctual to the minute; he looked like a man upon +his guard, and spoke low and sparingly. The Dictator, on the other +hand, appeared to enjoy an unusual flow of spirits; his laugh, which +was youthful and pleasant to hear, sounded frequently from the garden; +by the modulation and the changes of his voice it was obvious that he +told many droll stories and imitated the accents of a variety of +different nations; and before he and the young clergyman had finished +their vermouth all feeling of distrust was at an end, and they were +talking together like a pair of school companions. + +At length Miss Vandeleur made her appearance, carrying the soup-tureen. +Mr. Rolles ran to offer her assistance which she laughingly refused; +and there was an interchange of pleasantries among the trio which +seemed to have reference to this primitive manner of waiting by one of +the company. + +“One is more at one’s ease,” Mr. Vandeleur was heard to declare. + +Next moment they were all three in their places, and Francis could see +as little as he could hear of what passed. But the dinner seemed to go +merrily; there was a perpetual babble of voices and sound of knives and +forks below the chestnut; and Francis, who had no more than a roll to +gnaw, was affected with envy by the comfort and deliberation of the +meal. The party lingered over one dish after another, and then over a +delicate dessert, with a bottle of old wine carefully uncorked by the +hand of the Dictator himself. As it began to grow dark a lamp was set +upon the table and a couple of candles on the sideboard; for the night +was perfectly pure, starry, and windless. Light overflowed besides from +the door and window in the verandah, so that the garden was fairly +illuminated and the leaves twinkled in the darkness. + +For perhaps the tenth time Miss Vandeleur entered the house; and on +this occasion she returned with the coffee-tray, which she placed upon +the sideboard. At the same moment her father rose from his seat. + +“The coffee is my province,” Francis heard him say. + +And next moment he saw his supposed father standing by the sideboard in +the light of the candles. + +Talking over his shoulder all the while, Mr. Vandeleur poured out two +cups of the brown stimulant, and then, by a rapid act of +prestidigitation, emptied the contents of a tiny phial into the smaller +of the two. The thing was so swiftly done that even Francis, who looked +straight into his face, had hardly time to perceive the movement before +it was completed. And next instant, and still laughing, Mr. Vandeleur +had turned again towards the table with a cup in either hand. + +“Ere we have done with this,” said he, “we may expect our famous +Hebrew.” + +It would be impossible to depict the confusion and distress of Francis +Scrymgeour. He saw foul play going forward before his eyes, and he felt +bound to interfere, but knew not how. It might be a mere pleasantry, +and then how should he look if he were to offer an unnecessary warning? +Or again, if it were serious, the criminal might be his own father, and +then how should he not lament if he were to bring ruin on the author of +his days? For the first time he became conscious of his own position as +a spy. To wait inactive at such a juncture and with such a conflict of +sentiments in his bosom was to suffer the most acute torture; he clung +to the bars of the shutters, his heart beat fast and with irregularity, +and he felt a strong sweat break forth upon his body. + +Several minutes passed. + +He seemed to perceive the conversation die away and grow less and less +in vivacity and volume; but still no sign of any alarming or even +notable event. + +Suddenly the ring of a glass breaking was followed by a faint and dull +sound, as of a person who should have fallen forward with his head upon +the table. At the same moment a piercing scream rose from the garden. + +“What have you done?” cried Miss Vandeleur. “He is dead!” + +The Dictator replied in a violent whisper, so strong and sibilant that +every word was audible to the watcher at the window. + +“Silence!” said Mr. Vandeleur; “the man is as well as I am. Take him by +the heels whilst I carry him by the shoulders.” + +Francis heard Miss Vandeleur break forth into a passion of tears. + +“Do you hear what I say?” resumed the Dictator, in the same tones. “Or +do you wish to quarrel with me? I give you your choice, Miss +Vandeleur.” + +There was another pause, and the Dictator spoke again. + +“Take that man by the heels,” he said. “I must have him brought into +the house. If I were a little younger, I could help myself against the +world. But now that years and dangers are upon me and my hands are +weakened, I must turn to you for aid.” + +“It is a crime,” replied the girl. + +“I am your father,” said Mr. Vandeleur. + +This appeal seemed to produce its effect. A scuffling noise followed +upon the gravel, a chair was overset, and then Francis saw the father +and daughter stagger across the walk and disappear under the verandah, +bearing the inanimate body of Mr. Rolles embraced about the knees and +shoulders. The young clergyman was limp and pallid, and his head rolled +upon his shoulders at every step. + +Was he alive or dead? Francis, in spite of the Dictator’s declaration, +inclined to the latter view. A great crime had been committed; a great +calamity had fallen upon the inhabitants of the house with the green +blinds. To his surprise, Francis found all horror for the deed +swallowed up in sorrow for a girl and an old man whom he judged to be +in the height of peril. A tide of generous feeling swept into his +heart; he, too, would help his father against man and mankind, against +fate and justice; and casting open the shutters he closed his eyes and +threw himself with out-stretched arms into the foliage of the chestnut. + +Branch after branch slipped from his grasp or broke under his weight; +then he caught a stalwart bough under his armpit, and hung suspended +for a second; and then he let himself drop and fell heavily against the +table. A cry of alarm from the house warned him that his entrance had +not been effected unobserved. He recovered himself with a stagger, and +in three bounds crossed the intervening space and stood before the door +in the verandah. + +In a small apartment, carpeted with matting and surrounded by glazed +cabinets full of rare and costly curios, Mr. Vandeleur was stooping +over the body of Mr. Rolles. He raised himself as Francis entered, and +there was an instantaneous passage of hands. It was the business of a +second; as fast as an eye can wink the thing was done; the young man +had not the time to be sure, but it seemed to him as if the Dictator +had taken something from the curate’s breast, looked at it for the +least fraction of time as it lay in his hand, and then suddenly and +swiftly passed it to his daughter. + +All this was over while Francis had still one foot upon the threshold, +and the other raised in air. The next instant he was on his knees to +Mr. Vandeleur. + +“Father!” he cried. “Let me too help you. I will do what you wish and +ask no questions; I will obey you with my life; treat me as a son, and +you will find I have a son’s devotion.” + +A deplorable explosion of oaths was the Dictator’s first reply. + +“Son and father?” he cried. “Father and son? What d—d unnatural comedy +is all this? How do you come in my garden? What do you want? And who, +in God’s name, are you?” + +Francis, with a stunned and shamefaced aspect, got upon his feet again, +and stood in silence. + +Then a light seemed to break upon Mr. Vandeleur, and he laughed aloud + +“I see,” cried he. “It is the Scrymgeour. Very well, Mr. Scrymgeour. +Let me tell you in a few words how you stand. You have entered my +private residence by force, or perhaps by fraud, but certainly with no +encouragement from me; and you come at a moment of some annoyance, a +guest having fainted at my table, to besiege me with your +protestations. You are no son of mine. You are my brother’s bastard by +a fishwife, if you want to know. I regard you with an indifference +closely bordering on aversion; and from what I now see of your conduct, +I judge your mind to be exactly suitable to your exterior. I recommend +you these mortifying reflections for your leisure; and, in the +meantime, let me beseech you to rid us of your presence. If I were not +occupied,” added the Dictator, with a terrifying oath, “I should give +you the unholiest drubbing ere you went!” + +Francis listened in profound humiliation. He would have fled had it +been possible; but as he had no means of leaving the residence into +which he had so unfortunately penetrated, he could do no more than +stand foolishly where he was. + +It was Miss Vandeleur who broke the silence. + +“Father,” she said, “you speak in anger. Mr. Scrymgeour may have been +mistaken, but he meant well and kindly.” + +“Thank you for speaking,” returned the Dictator. “You remind me of some +other observations which I hold it a point of honour to make to Mr. +Scrymgeour. My brother,” he continued, addressing the young man, “has +been foolish enough to give you an allowance; he was foolish enough and +presumptuous enough to propose a match between you and this young lady. +You were exhibited to her two nights ago; and I rejoice to tell you +that she rejected the idea with disgust. Let me add that I have +considerable influence with your father; and it shall not be my fault +if you are not beggared of your allowance and sent back to your +scrivening ere the week be out.” + +The tones of the old man’s voice were, if possible, more wounding than +his language; Francis felt himself exposed to the most cruel, +blighting, and unbearable contempt; his head turned, and he covered his +face with his hands, uttering at the same time a tearless sob of agony. +But Miss Vandeleur once again interfered in his behalf. + +“Mr. Scrymgeour,” she said, speaking in clear and even tones, “you must +not be concerned at my father’s harsh expressions. I felt no disgust +for you; on the contrary, I asked an opportunity to make your better +acquaintance. As for what has passed to-night, believe me it has filled +my mind with both pity and esteem.” + +Just then Mr. Rolles made a convulsive movement with his arm, which +convinced Francis that he was only drugged, and was beginning to throw +off the influence of the opiate. Mr. Vandeleur stooped over him and +examined his face for an instant. + +“Come, come!” cried he, raising his head. “Let there be an end of this. +And since you are so pleased with his conduct, Miss Vandeleur, take a +candle and show the bastard out.” + +The young lady hastened to obey. + +“Thank you,” said Francis, as soon as he was alone with her in the +garden. “I thank you from my soul. This has been the bitterest evening +of my life, but it will have always one pleasant recollection.” + +“I spoke as I felt,” she replied, “and in justice to you. It made my +heart sorry that you should be so unkindly used.” + +By this time they had reached the garden gate; and Miss Vandeleur, +having set the candle on the ground, was already unfastening the bolts. + +“One word more,” said Francis. “This is not for the last time—I shall +see you again, shall I not?” + +“Alas!” she answered. “You have heard my father. What can I do but +obey?” + +“Tell me at least that it is not with your consent,” returned Francis; +“tell me that you have no wish to see the last of me.” + +“Indeed,” replied she, “I have none. You seem to me both brave and +honest.” + +“Then,” said Francis, “give me a keepsake.” + +She paused for a moment, with her hand upon the key; for the various +bars and bolts were all undone, and there was nothing left but to open +the lock. + +“If I agree,” she said, “will you promise to do as I tell you from +point to point?” + +“Can you ask?” replied Francis. “I would do so willingly on your bare +word.” + +She turned the key and threw open the door. + +“Be it so,” said she. “You do not know what you ask, but be it so. +Whatever you hear,” she continued, “whatever happens, do not return to +this house; hurry fast until you reach the lighted and populous +quarters of the city; even there be upon your guard. You are in a +greater danger than you fancy. Promise me you will not so much as look +at my keepsake until you are in a place of safety.” + +“I promise,” replied Francis. + +She put something loosely wrapped in a handkerchief into the young +man’s hand; and at the same time, with more strength than he could have +anticipated, she pushed him into the street. + +“Now, run!” she cried. + +He heard the door close behind him, and the noise of the bolts being +replaced. + +“My faith,” said he, “since I have promised!” + +And he took to his heels down the lane that leads into the Rue +Ravignan. + +He was not fifty paces from the house with the green blinds when the +most diabolical outcry suddenly arose out of the stillness of the +night. Mechanically he stood still; another passenger followed his +example; in the neighbouring floors he saw people crowding to the +windows; a conflagration could not have produced more disturbance in +this empty quarter. And yet it seemed to be all the work of a single +man, roaring between grief and rage, like a lioness robbed of her +whelps; and Francis was surprised and alarmed to hear his own name +shouted with English imprecations to the wind. + +His first movement was to return to the house; his second, as he +remembered Miss Vandeleur’s advice, to continue his flight with greater +expedition than before; and he was in the act of turning to put his +thought in action, when the Dictator, bareheaded, bawling aloud, his +white hair blowing about his head, shot past him like a ball out of the +cannon’s mouth, and went careering down the street. + +“That was a close shave,” thought Francis to himself. “What he wants +with me, and why he should be so disturbed, I cannot think; but he is +plainly not good company for the moment, and I cannot do better than +follow Miss Vandeleur’s advice.” + +So saying, he turned to retrace his steps, thinking to double and +descend by the Rue Lepic itself while his pursuer should continue to +follow after him on the other line of street. The plan was ill-devised: +as a matter of fact, he should have taken his seat in the nearest café, +and waited there until the first heat of the pursuit was over. But +besides that Francis had no experience and little natural aptitude for +the small war of private life, he was so unconscious of any evil on his +part, that he saw nothing to fear beyond a disagreeable interview. And +to disagreeable interviews he felt he had already served his +apprenticeship that evening; nor could he suppose that Miss Vandeleur +had left anything unsaid. Indeed, the young man was sore both in body +and mind—the one was all bruised, the other was full of smarting +arrows; and he owned to himself that Mr. Vandeleur was master of a very +deadly tongue. + +The thought of his bruises reminded him that he had not only come +without a hat, but that his clothes had considerably suffered in his +descent through the chestnut. At the first magazine he purchased a +cheap wideawake, and had the disorder of his toilet summarily repaired. +The keepsake, still rolled in the handkerchief, he thrust in the +meanwhile into his trousers pocket. + +Not many steps beyond the shop he was conscious of a sudden shock, a +hand upon his throat, an infuriated face close to his own, and an open +mouth bawling curses in his ear. The Dictator, having found no trace of +his quarry, was returning by the other way. Francis was a stalwart +young fellow; but he was no match for his adversary whether in strength +or skill; and after a few ineffectual struggles he resigned himself +entirely to his captor. + +“What do you want with me?” said he. + +“We will talk of that at home,” returned the Dictator grimly. + +And he continued to march the young man up hill in the direction of the +house with the green blinds. + +But Francis, although he no longer struggled, was only waiting an +opportunity to make a bold push for freedom. With a sudden jerk he left +the collar of his coat in the hands of Mr. Vandeleur, and once more +made off at his best speed in the direction of the Boulevards. + +The tables were now turned. If the Dictator was the stronger, Francis, +in the top of his youth, was the more fleet of foot, and he had soon +effected his escape among the crowds. Relieved for a moment, but with a +growing sentiment of alarm and wonder in his mind, he walked briskly +until he debouched upon the Place de l’Opéra, lit up like day with +electric lamps. + +“This, at least,” thought he, “should satisfy Miss Vandeleur.” + +And turning to his right along the Boulevards, he entered the Café +Américain and ordered some beer. It was both late and early for the +majority of the frequenters of the establishment. Only two or three +persons, all men, were dotted here and there at separate tables in the +hall; and Francis was too much occupied by his own thoughts to observe +their presence. + +He drew the handkerchief from his pocket. The object wrapped in it +proved to be a morocco case, clasped and ornamented in gilt, which +opened by means of a spring, and disclosed to the horrified young man a +diamond of monstrous bigness and extraordinary brilliancy. The +circumstance was so inexplicable, the value of the stone was plainly so +enormous, that Francis sat staring into the open casket without +movement, without conscious thought, like a man stricken suddenly with +idiocy. + +A hand was laid upon his shoulder, lightly but firmly, and a quiet +voice, which yet had in it the ring of command, uttered these words in +his ear— + +“Close the casket, and compose your face.” + +Looking up, he beheld a man, still young, of an urbane and tranquil +presence, and dressed with rich simplicity. This personage had risen +from a neighbouring table, and, bringing his glass with him, had taken +a seat beside Francis. + +“Close the casket,” repeated the stranger, “and put it quietly back +into your pocket, where I feel persuaded it should never have been. +Try, if you please, to throw off your bewildered air, and act as though +I were one of your acquaintances whom you had met by chance. So! Touch +glasses with me. That is better. I fear, sir, you must be an amateur.” + +And the stranger pronounced these last words with a smile of peculiar +meaning, leaned back in his seat and enjoyed a deep inhalation of +tobacco. + +“For God’s sake,” said Francis, “tell me who you are and what this +means? Why I should obey your most unusual suggestions I am sure I know +not; but the truth is, I have fallen this evening into so many +perplexing adventures, and all I meet conduct themselves so strangely, +that I think I must either have gone mad or wandered into another +planet. Your face inspires me with confidence; you seem wise, good, and +experienced; tell me, for heaven’s sake, why you accost me in so odd a +fashion?” + +“All in due time,” replied the stranger. “But I have the first hand, +and you must begin by telling me how the Rajah’s Diamond is in your +possession.” + +“The Rajah’s Diamond!” echoed Francis. + +“I would not speak so loud, if I were you,” returned the other. “But +most certainly you have the Rajah’s Diamond in your pocket. I have seen +and handled it a score of times in Sir Thomas Vandeleur’s collection.” + +“Sir Thomas Vandeleur! The General! My father!” cried Francis. + +“Your father?” repeated the stranger. “I was not aware the General had +any family.” + +“I am illegitimate, sir,” replied Francis, with a flush. + +The other bowed with gravity. It was a respectful bow, as of a man +silently apologising to his equal; and Francis felt relieved and +comforted, he scarce knew why. The society of this person did him good; +he seemed to touch firm ground; a strong feeling of respect grew up in +his bosom, and mechanically he removed his wideawake as though in the +presence of a superior. + +“I perceive,” said the stranger, “that your adventures have not all +been peaceful. Your collar is torn, your face is scratched, you have a +cut upon your temple; you will, perhaps, pardon my curiosity when I ask +you to explain how you came by these injuries, and how you happen to +have stolen property to an enormous value in your pocket.” + +“I must differ from you!” returned Francis hotly. “I possess no stolen +property. And if you refer to the diamond, it was given to me not an +hour ago by Miss Vandeleur in the Rue Lepic.” + +“By Miss Vandeleur of the Rue Lepic!” repeated the other. “You interest +me more than you suppose. Pray continue.” + +“Heavens!” cried Francis. + +His memory had made a sudden bound. He had seen Mr. Vandeleur take an +article from the breast of his drugged visitor, and that article, he +was now persuaded, was a morocco case. + +“You have a light?” inquired the stranger. + +“Listen,” replied Francis. “I know not who you are, but I believe you +to be worthy of confidence and helpful; I find myself in strange +waters; I must have counsel and support, and since you invite me I +shall tell you all.” + +And he briefly recounted his experiences since the day when he was +summoned from the bank by his lawyer. + +“Yours is indeed a remarkable history,” said the stranger, after the +young man had made an end of his narrative; “and your position is full +of difficulty and peril. Many would counsel you to seek out your +father, and give the diamond to him; but I have other views. Waiter!” +he cried. + +The waiter drew near. + +“Will you ask the manager to speak with me a moment?” said he; and +Francis observed once more, both in his tone and manner, the evidence +of a habit of command. + +The waiter withdrew, and returned in a moment with manager, who bowed +with obsequious respect. + +“What,” said he, “can I do to serve you?” + +“Have the goodness,” replied the stranger, indicating Francis, “to tell +this gentleman my name.” + +“You have the honour, sir,” said the functionary, addressing young +Scrymgeour, “to occupy the same table with His Highness Prince Florizel +of Bohemia.” + +Francis rose with precipitation, and made a grateful reverence to the +Prince, who bade him resume his seat. + +“I thank you,” said Florizel, once more addressing the functionary; “I +am sorry to have deranged you for so small a matter.” + +And he dismissed him with a movement of his hand. + +“And now,” added the Prince, turning to Francis, “give me the diamond.” + +Without a word the casket was handed over. + +“You have done right,” said Florizel, “your sentiments have properly +inspired you, and you will live to be grateful for the misfortunes of +to-night. A man, Mr. Scrymgeour, may fall into a thousand perplexities, +but if his heart be upright and his intelligence unclouded, he will +issue from them all without dishonour. Let your mind be at rest; your +affairs are in my hand; and with the aid of heaven I am strong enough +to bring them to a good end. Follow me, if you please, to my carriage.” + +So saying the Prince arose and, having left a piece of gold for the +waiter, conducted the young man from the café and along the Boulevard +to where an unpretentious brougham and a couple of servants out of +livery awaited his arrival. + +“This carriage,” said he, “is at your disposal; collect your baggage as +rapidly as you can make it convenient, and my servants will conduct you +to a villa in the neighbourhood of Paris where you can wait in some +degree of comfort until I have had time to arrange your situation. You +will find there a pleasant garden, a library of good authors, a cook, a +cellar, and some good cigars, which I recommend to your attention. +Jérome,” he added, turning to one of the servants, “you have heard what +I say; I leave Mr. Scrymgeour in your charge; you will, I know, be +careful of my friend.” + +Francis uttered some broken phrases of gratitude. + +“It will be time enough to thank me,” said the Prince, “when you are +acknowledged by your father and married to Miss Vandeleur.” + +And with that the Prince turned away and strolled leisurely in the +direction of Montmartre. He hailed the first passing cab, gave an +address, and a quarter of an hour afterwards, having discharged the +driver some distance lower, he was knocking at Mr. Vandeleur’s garden +gate. + +It was opened with singular precautions by the Dictator in person. + +“Who are you?” he demanded. + +“You must pardon me this late visit, Mr. Vandeleur,” replied the +Prince. + +“Your Highness is always welcome,” returned Mr. Vandeleur, stepping +back. + +The Prince profited by the open space, and without waiting for his host +walked right into the house and opened the door of the _salon_. Two +people were seated there; one was Miss Vandeleur, who bore the marks of +weeping about her eyes, and was still shaken from time to time by a +sob; in the other the Prince recognised the young man who had consulted +him on literary matters about a month before, in a club smoking-room. + +“Good evening, Miss Vandeleur,” said Florizel; “you look fatigued. Mr. +Rolles, I believe? I hope you have profited by the study of Gaboriau, +Mr. Rolles.” + +But the young clergyman’s temper was too much embittered for speech; +and he contented himself with bowing stiffly, and continued to gnaw his +lip. + +“To what good wind,” said Mr. Vandeleur, following his guest, “am I to +attribute the honour of your Highness’s presence?” + +“I am come on business,” returned the Prince; “on business with you; as +soon as that is settled I shall request Mr. Rolles to accompany me for +a walk. Mr. Rolles,” he added with severity, “let me remind you that I +have not yet sat down.” + +The clergyman sprang to his feet with an apology; whereupon the Prince +took an armchair beside the table, handed his hat to Mr. Vandeleur, his +cane to Mr. Rolles, and, leaving them standing and thus menially +employed upon his service, spoke as follows:— + +“I have come here, as I said, upon business; but, had I come looking +for pleasure, I could not have been more displeased with my reception +nor more dissatisfied with my company. You, sir,” addressing Mr. +Rolles, “you have treated your superior in station with discourtesy; +you, Vandeleur, receive me with a smile, but you know right well that +your hands are not yet cleansed from misconduct. I do not desire to be +interrupted, sir,” he added imperiously; “I am here to speak, and not +to listen; and I have to ask you to hear me with respect, and to obey +punctiliously. At the earliest possible date your daughter shall be +married at the Embassy to my friend, Francis Scrymgeour, your brother’s +acknowledged son. You will oblige me by offering not less than ten +thousand pounds dowry. For yourself, I will indicate to you in writing +a mission of some importance in Siam which I destine to your care. And +now, sir, you will answer me in two words whether or not you agree to +these conditions.” + +“Your Highness will pardon me,” said Mr. Vandeleur, “and permit me, +with all respect, to submit to him two queries?” + +“The permission is granted,” replied the Prince. + +“Your Highness,” resumed the Dictator, “has called Mr. Scrymgeour his +friend. Believe me, had I known he was thus honoured, I should have +treated him with proportional respect.” + +“You interrogate adroitly,” said the Prince; “but it will not serve +your turn. You have my commands; if I had never seen that gentleman +before to-night, it would not render them less absolute.” + +“Your Highness interprets my meaning with his usual subtlety,” returned +Vandeleur. “Once more: I have, unfortunately, put the police upon the +track of Mr. Scrymgeour on a charge of theft; am I to withdraw or to +uphold the accusation?” + +“You will please yourself,” replied Florizel. “The question is one +between your conscience and the laws of this land. Give me my hat; and +you, Mr. Rolles, give me my cane and follow me. Miss Vandeleur, I wish +you good evening. I judge,” he added to Vandeleur, “that your silence +means unqualified assent.” + +“If I can do no better,” replied the old man, “I shall submit; but I +warn you openly it shall not be without a struggle.” + +“You are old,” said the Prince; “but years are disgraceful to the +wicked. Your age is more unwise than the youth of others. Do not +provoke me, or you may find me harder than you dream. This is the first +time that I have fallen across your path in anger; take care that it be +the last.” + +With these words, motioning the clergyman to follow, Florizel left the +apartment and directed his steps towards the garden gate; and the +Dictator, following with a candle, gave them light, and once more undid +the elaborate fastenings with which he sought to protect himself from +intrusion. + +“Your daughter is no longer present,” said the Prince, turning on the +threshold. “Let me tell you that I understand your threats; and you +have only to lift your hand to bring upon yourself sudden and +irremediable ruin.” + +The Dictator made no reply; but as the Prince turned his back upon him +in the lamplight he made a gesture full of menace and insane fury; and +the next moment, slipping round a corner, he was running at full speed +for the nearest cab-stand. + + +(_Here_, says my Arabian, _the thread of events is finally diverted +from_ The House with the Green Blinds. _One more adventure_, he adds, +_and we have done with_ The Rajah’s Diamond. _That last link in the +chain is known among the inhabitants of Bagdad by the name of_ The +Adventure of Prince Florizel and a Detective.) + + + + +THE ADVENTURE OF PRINCE FLORIZEL AND A DETECTIVE + + +Prince Florizel walked with Mr. Rolles to the door of a small hotel +where the latter resided. They spoke much together, and the clergyman +was more than once affected to tears by the mingled severity and +tenderness of Florizel’s reproaches. + +“I have made ruin of my life,” he said at last. “Help me; tell me what +I am to do; I have, alas! neither the virtues of a priest nor the +dexterity of a rogue.” + +“Now that you are humbled,” said the Prince, “I command no longer; the +repentant have to do with God and not with princes. But if you will let +me advise you, go to Australia as a colonist, seek menial labour in the +open air, and try to forget that you have ever been a clergyman, or +that you ever set eyes on that accursed stone.” + +“Accurst indeed!” replied Mr. Rolles. “Where is it now? What further +hurt is it not working for mankind?” + +“It will do no more evil,” returned the Prince. “It is here in my +pocket. And this,” he added kindly, “will show that I place some faith +in your penitence, young as it is.” + +“Suffer me to touch your hand,” pleaded Mr. Rolles. + +“No,” replied Prince Florizel, “not yet.” + +The tone in which he uttered these last words was eloquent in the ears +of the young clergyman; and for some minutes after the Prince had +turned away he stood on the threshold following with his eyes the +retreating figure and invoking the blessing of heaven upon a man so +excellent in counsel. + +For several hours the Prince walked alone in unfrequented streets. His +mind was full of concern; what to do with the diamond, whether to +return it to its owner, whom he judged unworthy of this rare +possession, or to take some sweeping and courageous measure and put it +out of the reach of all mankind at once and for ever, was a problem too +grave to be decided in a moment. The manner in which it had come into +his hands appeared manifestly providential; and as he took out the +jewel and looked at it under the street lamps, its size and surprising +brilliancy inclined him more and more to think of it as of an unmixed +and dangerous evil for the world. + +“God help me!” he thought; “if I look at it much oftener, I shall begin +to grow covetous myself.” + +At last, though still uncertain in his mind, he turned his steps +towards the small but elegant mansion on the river-side which had +belonged for centuries to his royal family. The arms of Bohemia are +deeply graved over the door and upon the tall chimneys; passengers have +a look into a green court set with the most costly flowers, and a +stork, the only one in Paris, perches on the gable all day long and +keeps a crowd before the house. Grave servants are seen passing to and +fro within; and from time to time the great gate is thrown open and a +carriage rolls below the arch. For many reasons this residence was +especially dear to the heart of Prince Florizel; he never drew near to +it without enjoying that sentiment of home-coming so rare in the lives +of the great; and on the present evening he beheld its tall roof and +mildly illuminated windows with unfeigned relief and satisfaction. + +As he was approaching the postern door by which he always entered when +alone, a man stepped forth from the shadow and presented himself with +an obeisance in the Prince’s path. + +“I have the honour of addressing Prince Florizel of Bohemia?” said he. + +“Such is my title,” replied the Prince. “What do you want with me?” + +“I am,” said the man, “a detective, and I have to present your Highness +with this billet from the Prefect of Police.” + +The Prince took the letter and glanced it through by the light of the +street lamp. It was highly apologetic, but requested him to follow the +bearer to the Prefecture without delay. + +“In short,” said Florizel, “I am arrested.” + +“Your Highness,” replied the officer, “nothing, I am certain, could be +further from the intention of the Prefect. You will observe that he has +not granted a warrant. It is mere formality, or call it, if you prefer, +an obligation that your Highness lays on the authorities.” + +“At the same time,” asked the Prince, “if I were to refuse to follow +you?” + +“I will not conceal from your Highness that a considerable discretion +has been granted me,” replied the detective with a bow. + +“Upon my word,” cried Florizel, “your effrontery astounds me! Yourself, +as an agent, I must pardon; but your superiors shall dearly smart for +their misconduct. What, have you any idea, is the cause of this +impolitic and unconstitutional act? You will observe that I have as yet +neither refused nor consented, and much may depend on your prompt and +ingenuous answer. Let me remind you, officer, that this is an affair of +some gravity.” + +“Your Highness,” said the detective humbly, “General Vandeleur and his +brother have had the incredible presumption to accuse you of theft. The +famous diamond, they declare, is in your hands. A word from you in +denial will most amply satisfy the Prefect; nay, I go farther: if your +Highness would so far honour a subaltern as to declare his ignorance of +the matter even to myself, I should ask permission to retire upon the +spot.” + +Florizel, up to the last moment, had regarded his adventure in the +light of a trifle, only serious upon international considerations. At +the name of Vandeleur the horrible truth broke upon him in a moment; he +was not only arrested, but he was guilty. This was not only an annoying +incident—it was a peril to his honour. What was he to say? What was he +to do? The Rajah’s Diamond was indeed an accursed stone; and it seemed +as if he were to be the last victim to its influence. + +One thing was certain. He could not give the required assurance to the +detective. He must gain time. + +His hesitation had not lasted a second. + +“Be it so,” said he, “let us walk together to the Prefecture.” + +The man once more bowed, and proceeded to follow Florizel at a +respectful distance in the rear. + +“Approach,” said the Prince. “I am in a humour to talk, and, if I +mistake not, now I look at you again, this is not the first time that +we have met.” + +“I count it an honour,” replied the officer, “that your Highness should +recollect my face. It is eight years since I had the pleasure of an +interview.” + +“To remember faces,” returned Florizel, “is as much a part of my +profession as it is of yours. Indeed, rightly looked upon, a Prince and +a detective serve in the same corps. We are both combatants against +crime; only mine is the more lucrative and yours the more dangerous +rank, and there is a sense in which both may be made equally honourable +to a good man. I had rather, strange as you may think it, be a +detective of character and parts than a weak and ignoble sovereign.” + +The officer was overwhelmed. + +“Your Highness returns good for evil,” said he. “To an act of +presumption he replies by the most amiable condescension.” + +“How do you know,” replied Florizel, “that I am not seeking to corrupt +you?” + +“Heaven preserve me from the temptation!” cried the detective. + +“I applaud your answer,” returned the Prince. “It is that of a wise and +honest man. The world is a great place and stocked with wealth and +beauty, and there is no limit to the rewards that may be offered. Such +an one who would refuse a million of money may sell his honour for an +empire or the love of a woman; and I myself, who speak to you, have +seen occasions so tempting, provocations so irresistible to the +strength of human virtue, that I have been glad to tread in your steps +and recommend myself to the grace of God. It is thus, thanks to that +modest and becoming habit alone,” he added, “that you and I can walk +this town together with untarnished hearts.” + +“I had always heard that you were brave,” replied the officer, “but I +was not aware that you were wise and pious. You speak the truth, and +you speak it with an accent that moves me to the heart. This world is +indeed a place of trial.” + +“We are now,” said Florizel, “in the middle of the bridge. Lean your +elbows on the parapet and look over. As the water rushing below, so the +passions and complications of life carry away the honesty of weak men. +Let me tell you a story.” + +“I receive your Highness’s commands,” replied the man. + +And, imitating the Prince, he leaned against the parapet, and disposed +himself to listen. The city was already sunk in slumber; had it not +been for the infinity of lights and the outline of buildings on the +starry sky, they might have been alone beside some country river. + +“An officer,” began Prince Florizel, “a man of courage and conduct, who +had already risen by merit to an eminent rank, and won not only +admiration but respect, visited, in an unfortunate hour for his peace +of mind, the collections of an Indian Prince. Here he beheld a diamond +so extraordinary for size and beauty that from that instant he had only +one desire in life: honour, reputation, friendship, the love of +country, he was ready to sacrifice all for this lump of sparkling +crystal. For three years he served this semi-barbarian potentate as +Jacob served Laban; he falsified frontiers, he connived at murders, he +unjustly condemned and executed a brother-officer who had the +misfortune to displease the Rajah by some honest freedoms; lastly, at a +time of great danger to his native land, he betrayed a body of his +fellow-soldiers, and suffered them to be defeated and massacred by +thousands. In the end, he had amassed a magnificent fortune, and +brought home with him the coveted diamond. + +“Years passed,” continued the Prince, “and at length the diamond is +accidentally lost. It falls into the hands of a simple and laborious +youth, a student, a minister of God, just entering on a career of +usefulness and even distinction. Upon him also the spell is cast; he +deserts everything, his holy calling, his studies, and flees with the +gem into a foreign country. The officer has a brother, an astute, +daring, unscrupulous man, who learns the clergyman’s secret. What does +he do? Tell his brother, inform the police? No; upon this man also the +Satanic charm has fallen; he must have the stone for himself. At the +risk of murder, he drugs the young priest and seizes the prey. And now, +by an accident which is not important to my moral, the jewel passes out +of his custody into that of another, who, terrified at what he sees, +gives it into the keeping of a man in high station and above reproach. + +“The officer’s name is Thomas Vandeleur,” continued Florizel. “The +stone is called the Rajah’s Diamond. And”—suddenly opening his +hand—“you behold it here before your eyes.” + +The officer started back with a cry. + +“We have spoken of corruption,” said the Prince. “To me this nugget of +bright crystal is as loathsome as though it were crawling with the +worms of death; it is as shocking as though it were compacted out of +innocent blood. I see it here in my hand, and I know it is shining with +hell-fire. I have told you but a hundredth part of its story; what +passed in former ages, to what crimes and treacheries it incited men of +yore, the imagination trembles to conceive; for years and years it has +faithfully served the powers of hell; enough, I say, of blood, enough +of disgrace, enough of broken lives and friendships; all things come to +an end, the evil like the good; pestilence as well as beautiful music; +and as for this diamond, God forgive me if I do wrong, but its empire +ends to-night.” + +The Prince made a sudden movement with his hand, and the jewel, +describing an arc of light, dived with a splash into the flowing river. + +“Amen,” said Florizel with gravity. “I have slain a cockatrice!” + +“God pardon me!” cried the detective. “What have you done? I am a +ruined man.” + +“I think,” returned the Prince with a smile, “that many well-to-do +people in this city might envy you your ruin.” + +“Alas! your Highness!” said the officer, “and you corrupt me after +all?” + +“It seems there was no help for it,” replied Florizel. “And now let us +go forward to the Prefecture.” + + +Not long after, the marriage of Francis Scrymgeour and Miss Vandeleur +was celebrated in great privacy; and the Prince acted on that occasion +as groomsman. The two Vandeleurs surprised some rumour of what had +happened to the diamond; and their vast diving operations on the River +Seine are the wonder and amusement of the idle. It is true that through +some miscalculation they have chosen the wrong branch of the river. As +for the Prince, that sublime person, having now served his turn, may +go, along with the _Arabian Author_, topsy-turvy into space. But if the +reader insists on more specific information, I am happy to say that a +recent revolution hurled him from the throne of Bohemia, in consequence +of his continued absence and edifying neglect of public business; and +that his Highness now keeps a cigar store in Rupert Street, much +frequented by other foreign refugees. I go there from time to time to +smoke and have a chat, and find him as great a creature as in the days +of his prosperity; he has an Olympian air behind the counter; and +although a sedentary life is beginning to tell upon his waistcoat, he +is probably, take him for all in all, the handsomest tobacconist in +London. + + + + +THE PAVILION ON THE LINKS + + + + +CHAPTER I +TELLS HOW I CAMPED IN GRADEN SEA-WOOD, AND BEHELD A LIGHT IN THE +PAVILION + + +I was a great solitary when I was young. I made it my pride to keep +aloof and suffice for my own entertainment; and I may say that I had +neither friends nor acquaintances until I met that friend who became my +wife and the mother of my children. With one man only was I on private +terms; this was R. Northmour, Esquire, of Graden Easter, in Scotland. +We had met at college; and though there was not much liking between us, +nor even much intimacy, we were so nearly of a humour that we could +associate with ease to both. Misanthropes, we believed ourselves to be; +but I have thought since that we were only sulky fellows. It was +scarcely a companionship, but a coexistence in unsociability. +Northmour’s exceptional violence of temper made it no easy affair for +him to keep the peace with any one but me; and as he respected my +silent ways, and let me come and go as I pleased, I could tolerate his +presence without concern. I think we called each other friends. + +When Northmour took his degree and I decided to leave the university +without one, he invited me on a long visit to Graden Easter; and it was +thus that I first became acquainted with the scene of my adventures. +The mansion-house of Graden stood in a bleak stretch of country some +three miles from the shore of the German Ocean. It was as large as a +barrack; and as it had been built of a soft stone, liable to consume in +the eager air of the seaside, it was damp and draughty within and half +ruinous without. It was impossible for two young men to lodge with +comfort in such a dwelling. But there stood in the northern part of the +estate, in a wilderness of links and blowing sand-hills, and between a +plantation and the sea, a small Pavilion or Belvidere, of modern +design, which was exactly suited to our wants; and in this hermitage, +speaking little, reading much, and rarely associating except at meals, +Northmour and I spent four tempestuous winter months. I might have +stayed longer; but one March night there sprang up between us a +dispute, which rendered my departure necessary. Northmour spoke hotly, +I remember, and I suppose I must have made some tart rejoinder. He +leaped from his chair and grappled me; I had to fight, without +exaggeration, for my life; and it was only with a great effort that I +mastered him, for he was near as strong in body as myself, and seemed +filled with the devil. The next morning, we met on our usual terms; but +I judged it more delicate to withdraw; nor did he attempt to dissuade +me. + +It was nine years before I revisited the neighbourhood. I travelled at +that time with a tilt cart, a tent, and a cooking-stove, tramping all +day beside the waggon, and at night, whenever it was possible, gipsying +in a cove of the hills, or by the side of a wood. I believe I visited +in this manner most of the wild and desolate regions both in England +and Scotland; and, as I had neither friends nor relations, I was +troubled with no correspondence, and had nothing in the nature of +headquarters, unless it was the office of my solicitors, from whom I +drew my income twice a year. It was a life in which I delighted; and I +fully thought to have grown old upon the march, and at last died in a +ditch. + +It was my whole business to find desolate corners, where I could camp +without the fear of interruption; and hence, being in another part of +the same shire, I bethought me suddenly of the Pavilion on the Links. +No thoroughfare passed within three miles of it. The nearest town, and +that was but a fisher village, was at a distance of six or seven. For +ten miles of length, and from a depth varying from three miles to half +a mile, this belt of barren country lay along the sea. The beach, which +was the natural approach, was full of quicksands. Indeed I may say +there is hardly a better place of concealment in the United Kingdom. I +determined to pass a week in the Sea-Wood of Graden Easter, and making +a long stage, reached it about sundown on a wild September day. + +The country, I have said, was mixed sand-hill and links; _links_ being +a Scottish name for sand which has ceased drifting and become more or +less solidly covered with turf. The Pavilion stood on an even space; a +little behind it, the wood began in a hedge of elders huddled together +by the wind; in front, a few tumbled sand-hills stood between it and +the sea. An outcropping of rock had formed a bastion for the sand, so +that there was here a promontory in the coast-line between two shallow +bays; and just beyond the tides, the rock again cropped out and formed +an islet of small dimensions but strikingly designed. The quicksands +were of great extent at low water, and had an infamous reputation in +the country. Close in shore, between the islet and the promontory, it +was said they would swallow a man in four minutes and a half; but there +may have been little ground for this precision. The district was alive +with rabbits, and haunted by gulls which made a continual piping about +the pavilion. On summer days the outlook was bright and even gladsome; +but at sundown in September, with a high wind, and a heavy surf rolling +in close along the links, the place told of nothing but dead mariners +and sea disaster. A ship beating to windward on the horizon, and a huge +truncheon of wreck half buried in the sands at my feet, completed the +innuendo of the scene. + +The pavilion—it had been built by the last proprietor, Northmour’s +uncle, a silly and prodigal virtuoso—presented little signs of age. It +was two storeys in height, Italian in design, surrounded by a patch of +garden in which nothing had prospered but a few coarse flowers; and +looked, with its shuttered windows, not like a house that had been +deserted, but like one that had never been tenanted by man. Northmour +was plainly from home; whether, as usual, sulking in the cabin of his +yacht, or in one of his fitful and extravagant appearances in the world +of society, I had, of course, no means of guessing. The place had an +air of solitude that daunted even a solitary like myself; the wind +cried in the chimneys with a strange and wailing note; and it was with +a sense of escape, as if I were going indoors, that I turned away and, +driving my cart before me, entered the skirts of the wood. + +The Sea-Wood of Graden had been planted to shelter the cultivated +fields behind, and check the encroachments of the blowing sand. As you +advanced into it from coastward, elders were succeeded by other hardy +shrubs; but the timber was all stunted and bushy; it led a life of +conflict; the trees were accustomed to swing there all night long in +fierce winter tempests; and even in early spring, the leaves were +already flying, and autumn was beginning, in this exposed plantation. +Inland the ground rose into a little hill, which, along with the islet, +served as a sailing mark for seamen. When the hill was open of the +islet to the north, vessels must bear well to the eastward to clear +Graden Ness and the Graden Bullers. In the lower ground, a streamlet +ran among the trees, and, being dammed with dead leaves and clay of its +own carrying, spread out every here and there, and lay in stagnant +pools. One or two ruined cottages were dotted about the wood; and, +according to Northmour, these were ecclesiastical foundations, and in +their time had sheltered pious hermits. + +I found a den, or small hollow, where there was a spring of pure water; +and there, clearing away the brambles, I pitched the tent, and made a +fire to cook my supper. My horse I picketed farther in the wood where +there was a patch of sward. The banks of the den not only concealed the +light of my fire, but sheltered me from the wind, which was cold as +well as high. + +The life I was leading made me both hardy and frugal. I never drank but +water, and rarely ate anything more costly than oatmeal; and I required +so little sleep, that, although I rose with the peep of day, I would +often lie long awake in the dark or starry watches of the night. Thus +in Graden Sea-Wood, although I fell thankfully asleep by eight in the +evening I was awake again before eleven with a full possession of my +faculties, and no sense of drowsiness or fatigue. I rose and sat by the +fire, watching the trees and clouds tumultuously tossing and fleeing +overhead, and hearkening to the wind and the rollers along the shore; +till at length, growing weary of inaction, I quitted the den, and +strolled towards the borders of the wood. A young moon, buried in mist, +gave a faint illumination to my steps; and the light grew brighter as I +walked forth into the links. At the same moment, the wind, smelling +salt of the open ocean and carrying particles of sand, struck me with +its full force, so that I had to bow my head. + +When I raised it again to look about me, I was aware of a light in the +pavilion. It was not stationary; but passed from one window to another, +as though some one were reviewing the different apartments with a lamp +or candle. + +I watched it for some seconds in great surprise. When I had arrived in +the afternoon the house had been plainly deserted; now it was as +plainly occupied. It was my first idea that a gang of thieves might +have broken in and be now ransacking Northmour’s cupboards, which were +many and not ill supplied. But what should bring thieves to Graden +Easter? And, again, all the shutters had been thrown open, and it would +have been more in the character of such gentry to close them. I +dismissed the notion, and fell back upon another. Northmour himself +must have arrived, and was now airing and inspecting the pavilion. + +I have said that there was no real affection between this man and me; +but, had I loved him like a brother, I was then so much more in love +with solitude that I should none the less have shunned his company. As +it was, I turned and ran for it; and it was with genuine satisfaction +that I found myself safely back beside the fire. I had escaped an +acquaintance; I should have one more night in comfort. In the morning, +I might either slip away before Northmour was abroad, or pay him as +short a visit as I chose. + +But when morning came, I thought the situation so diverting that I +forgot my shyness. Northmour was at my mercy; I arranged a good +practical jest, though I knew well that my neighbour was not the man to +jest with in security; and, chuckling beforehand over its success, took +my place among the elders at the edge of the wood, whence I could +command the door of the pavilion. The shutters were all once more +closed, which I remember thinking odd; and the house, with its white +walls and green venetians, looked spruce and habitable in the morning +light. Hour after hour passed, and still no sign of Northmour. I knew +him for a sluggard in the morning; but, as it drew on towards noon, I +lost my patience. To say the truth, I had promised myself to break my +fast in the pavilion, and hunger began to prick me sharply. It was a +pity to let the opportunity go by without some cause for mirth; but the +grosser appetite prevailed, and I relinquished my jest with regret, and +sallied from the wood. + +The appearance of the house affected me, as I drew near, with +disquietude. It seemed unchanged since last evening; and I had expected +it, I scarce knew why, to wear some external signs of habitation. But +no: the windows were all closely shuttered, the chimneys breathed no +smoke, and the front door itself was closely padlocked. Northmour, +therefore, had entered by the back; this was the natural and, indeed, +the necessary conclusion; and you may judge of my surprise when, on +turning the house, I found the back door similarly secured. + +My mind at once reverted to the original theory of thieves; and I +blamed myself sharply for my last night’s inaction. I examined all the +windows on the lower storey, but none of them had been tampered with; I +tried the padlocks, but they were both secure. It thus became a problem +how the thieves, if thieves they were, had managed to enter the house. +They must have got, I reasoned, upon the roof of the outhouse where +Northmour used to keep his photographic battery; and from thence, +either by the window of the study or that of my old bedroom, completed +their burglarious entry. + +I followed what I supposed was their example; and, getting on the roof, +tried the shutters of each room. Both were secure; but I was not to be +beaten; and, with a little force, one of them flew open, grazing, as it +did so, the back of my hand. I remember, I put the wound to my mouth, +and stood for perhaps half a minute licking it like a dog, and +mechanically gazing behind me over the waste links and the sea; and, in +that space of time, my eye made note of a large schooner yacht some +miles to the north-east. Then I threw up the window and climbed in. + +I went over the house, and nothing can express my mystification. There +was no sign of disorder, but, on the contrary, the rooms were unusually +clean and pleasant. I found fires laid, ready for lighting; three +bedrooms prepared with a luxury quite foreign to Northmour’s habits, +and with water in the ewers and the beds turned down; a table set for +three in the dining-room; and an ample supply of cold meats, game, and +vegetables on the pantry shelves. There were guests expected, that was +plain; but why guests, when Northmour hated society? And, above all, +why was the house thus stealthily prepared at dead of night? and why +were the shutters closed and the doors padlocked? + +I effaced all traces of my visit, and came forth from the window +feeling sobered and concerned. + +The schooner yacht was still in the same place; and it flashed for a +moment through my mind that this might be the _Red Earl_ bringing the +owner of the pavilion and his guests. But the vessel’s head was set the +other way. + + + + +CHAPTER II +TELLS OF THE NOCTURNAL LANDING FROM THE YACHT + + +I returned to the den to cook myself a meal, of which I stood in great +need, as well as to care for my horse, whom I had somewhat neglected in +the morning. From time to time I went down to the edge of the wood; but +there was no change in the pavilion, and not a human creature was seen +all day upon the links. The schooner in the offing was the one touch of +life within my range of vision. She, apparently with no set object, +stood off and on or lay to, hour after hour; but as the evening +deepened, she drew steadily nearer. I became more convinced that she +carried Northmour and his friends, and that they would probably come +ashore after dark; not only because that was of a piece with the +secrecy of the preparations, but because the tide would not have flowed +sufficiently before eleven to cover Graden Floe and the other sea quags +that fortified the shore against invaders. + +All day the wind had been going down, and the sea along with it; but +there was a return towards sunset of the heavy weather of the day +before. The night set in pitch dark. The wind came off the sea in +squalls, like the firing of a battery of cannon; now and then there was +a flaw of rain, and the surf rolled heavier with the rising tide. I was +down at my observatory among the elders, when a light was run up to the +masthead of the schooner, and showed she was closer in than when I had +last seen her by the dying daylight. I concluded that this must be a +signal to Northmour’s associates on shore; and, stepping forth into the +links, looked around me for something in response. + +A small footpath ran along the margin of the wood, and formed the most +direct communication between the pavilion and the mansion-house; and, +as I cast my eyes to that side, I saw a spark of light, not a quarter +of a mile away, and rapidly approaching. From its uneven course it +appeared to be the light of a lantern carried by a person who followed +the windings of the path, and was often staggered and taken aback by +the more violent squalls. I concealed myself once more among the +elders, and waited eagerly for the new-comer’s advance. It proved to be +a woman; and, as she passed within half a rod of my ambush, I was able +to recognise the features. The deaf and silent old dame, who had nursed +Northmour in his childhood, was his associate in this underhand affair. + +I followed her at a little distance, taking advantage of the +innumerable heights and hollows, concealed by the darkness, and +favoured not only by the nurse’s deafness, but by the uproar of the +wind and surf. She entered the pavilion, and, going at once to the +upper storey, opened and set a light in one of the windows that looked +towards the sea. Immediately afterwards the light at the schooner’s +masthead was run down and extinguished. Its purpose had been attained, +and those on board were sure that they were expected. The old woman +resumed her preparations; although the other shutters remained closed, +I could see a glimmer going to and fro about the house; and a gush of +sparks from one chimney after another soon told me that the fires were +being kindled. + +Northmour and his guests, I was now persuaded, would come ashore as +soon as there was water on the floe. It was a wild night for boat +service; and I felt some alarm mingle with my curiosity as I reflected +on the danger of the landing. My old acquaintance, it was true, was the +most eccentric of men; but the present eccentricity was both +disquieting and lugubrious to consider. A variety of feelings thus led +me towards the beach, where I lay flat on my face in a hollow within +six feet of the track that led to the pavilion. Thence, I should have +the satisfaction of recognising the arrivals, and, if they should prove +to be acquaintances, greeting them as soon as they had landed. + +Some time before eleven, while the tide was still dangerously low, a +boat’s lantern appeared close in shore; and, my attention being thus +awakened, I could perceive another still far to seaward, violently +tossed, and sometimes hidden by the billows. The weather, which was +getting dirtier as the night went on, and the perilous situation of the +yacht upon a lee shore, had probably driven them to attempt a landing +at the earliest possible moment. + +A little afterwards, four yachtsmen carrying a very heavy chest, and +guided by a fifth with a lantern, passed close in front of me as I lay, +and were admitted to the pavilion by the nurse. They returned to the +beach, and passed me a second time with another chest, larger but +apparently not so heavy as the first. A third time they made the +transit; and on this occasion one of the yachtsmen carried a leather +portmanteau, and the others a lady’s trunk and carriage bag. My +curiosity was sharply excited. If a woman were among the guests of +Northmour, it would show a change in his habits and an apostasy from +his pet theories of life, well calculated to fill me with surprise. +When he and I dwelt there together, the pavilion had been a temple of +misogyny. And now, one of the detested sex was to be installed under +its roof. I remembered one or two particulars, a few notes of +daintiness and almost of coquetry which had struck me the day before as +I surveyed the preparations in the house; their purpose was now clear, +and I thought myself dull not to have perceived it from the first. + +While I was thus reflecting, a second lantern drew near me from the +beach. It was carried by a yachtsman whom I had not yet seen, and who +was conducting two other persons to the pavilion. These two persons +were unquestionably the guests for whom the house was made ready; and, +straining eye and ear, I set myself to watch them as they passed. One +was an unusually tall man, in a travelling hat slouched over his eyes, +and a highland cape closely buttoned and turned up so as to conceal his +face. You could make out no more of him than that he was, as I have +said, unusually tall, and walked feebly with a heavy stoop. By his +side, and either clinging to him or giving him support—I could not make +out which—was a young, tall, and slender figure of a woman. She was +extremely pale; but in the light of the lantern her face was so marred +by strong and changing shadows, that she might equally well have been +as ugly as sin or as beautiful as I afterwards found her to be. + +When they were just abreast of me, the girl made some remark which was +drowned by the noise of the wind. + +“Hush!” said her companion; and there was something in the tone with +which the word was uttered that thrilled and rather shook my spirits. +It seemed to breathe from a bosom labouring under the deadliest terror; +I have never heard another syllable so expressive; and I still hear it +again when I am feverish at night, and my mind runs upon old times. The +man turned towards the girl as he spoke; I had a glimpse of much red +beard and a nose which seemed to have been broken in youth; and his +light eyes seemed shining in his face with some strong and unpleasant +emotion. + +But these two passed on and were admitted in their turn to the +pavilion. + +One by one, or in groups, the seamen returned to the beach. The wind +brought me the sound of a rough voice crying, “Shove off!” Then, after +a pause, another lantern drew near. It was Northmour alone. + +My wife and I, a man and a woman, have often agreed to wonder how a +person could be, at the same time, so handsome and so repulsive as +Northmour. He had the appearance of a finished gentleman; his face bore +every mark of intelligence and courage; but you had only to look at +him, even in his most amiable moment, to see that he had the temper of +a slaver captain. I never knew a character that was both explosive and +revengeful to the same degree; he combined the vivacity of the south +with the sustained and deadly hatreds of the north; and both traits +were plainly written on his face, which was a sort of danger signal. In +person he was tall, strong, and active; his hair and complexion very +dark; his features handsomely designed, but spoiled by a menacing +expression. + +At that moment he was somewhat paler than by nature; he wore a heavy +frown; and his lips worked, and he looked sharply round him as he +walked, like a man besieged with apprehensions. And yet I thought he +had a look of triumph underlying all, as though he had already done +much, and was near the end of an achievement. + +Partly from a scruple of delicacy—which I dare say came too late—partly +from the pleasure of startling an acquaintance, I desired to make my +presence known to him without delay. + +I got suddenly to my feet, and stepped forward. “Northmour!” said I. + +I have never had so shocking a surprise in all my days. He leaped on me +without a word; something shone in his hand; and he struck for my heart +with a dagger. At the same moment I knocked him head over heels. +Whether it was my quickness, or his own uncertainty, I know not; but +the blade only grazed my shoulder, while the hilt and his fist struck +me violently on the mouth. + +I fled, but not far. I had often and often observed the capabilities of +the sand-hills for protracted ambush or stealthy advances and retreats; +and, not ten yards from the scene of the scuffle, plumped down again +upon the grass. The lantern had fallen and gone out. But what was my +astonishment to see Northmour slip at a bound into the pavilion, and +hear him bar the door behind him with a clang of iron! + +He had not pursued me. He had run away. Northmour, whom I knew for the +most implacable and daring of men, had run away! I could scarce believe +my reason; and yet in this strange business, where all was incredible, +there was nothing to make a work about in an incredibility more or +less. For why was the pavilion secretly prepared? Why had Northmour +landed with his guests at dead of night, in half a gale of wind, and +with the floe scarce covered? Why had he sought to kill me? Had he not +recognised my voice? I wondered. And, above all, how had he come to +have a dagger ready in his hand? A dagger, or even a sharp knife, +seemed out of keeping with the age in which we lived; and a gentleman +landing from his yacht on the shore of his own estate, even although it +was at night and with some mysterious circumstances, does not usually, +as a matter of fact, walk thus prepared for deadly onslaught. The more +I reflected, the further I felt at sea. I recapitulated the elements of +mystery, counting them on my fingers: the pavilion secretly prepared +for guests; the guests landed at the risk of their lives and to the +imminent peril of the yacht; the guests, or at least one of them, in +undisguised and seemingly causeless terror; Northmour with a naked +weapon; Northmour stabbing his most intimate acquaintance at a word; +last, and not least strange, Northmour fleeing from the man whom he had +sought to murder, and barricading himself, like a hunted creature, +behind the door of the pavilion. Here were at least six separate causes +for extreme surprise; each part and parcel with the others, and forming +all together one consistent story. I felt almost ashamed to believe my +own senses. + +As I thus stood, transfixed with wonder, I began to grow painfully +conscious of the injuries I had received in the scuffle; skulked round +among the sand-hills; and, by a devious path, regained the shelter of +the wood. On the way, the old nurse passed again within several yards +of me, still carrying her lantern, on the return journey to the +mansion-house of Graden. This made a seventh suspicious feature in the +case—Northmour and his guests, it appeared, were to cook and do the +cleaning for themselves, while the old woman continued to inhabit the +big empty barrack among the policies. There must surely be great cause +for secrecy, when so many inconveniences were confronted to preserve +it. + +So thinking, I made my way to the den. For greater security, I trod out +the embers of the fire, and lit my lantern to examine the wound upon my +shoulder. It was a trifling hurt, although it bled somewhat freely, and +I dressed it as well as I could (for its position made it difficult to +reach) with some rag and cold water from the spring. While I was thus +busied, I mentally declared war against Northmour and his mystery. I am +not an angry man by nature, and I believe there was more curiosity than +resentment in my heart. But war I certainly declared; and, by way of +preparation, I got out my revolver, and, having drawn the charges, +cleaned and reloaded it with scrupulous care. Next I became preoccupied +about my horse. It might break loose, or fall to neighing, and so +betray my camp in the Sea-Wood. I determined to rid myself of its +neighbourhood; and long before dawn I was leading it over the links in +the direction of the fisher village. + + + + +CHAPTER III +TELLS HOW I BECAME ACQUAINTED WITH MY WIFE + + +For two days I skulked round the pavilion, profiting by the uneven +surface of the links. I became an adept in the necessary tactics. These +low hillocks and shallow dells, running one into another, became a kind +of cloak of darkness for my enthralling, but perhaps dishonourable, +pursuit. Yet, in spite of this advantage, I could learn but little of +Northmour or his guests. + +Fresh provisions were brought under cover of darkness by the old woman +from the mansion-house. Northmour, and the young lady, sometimes +together, but more often singly, would walk for an hour or two at a +time on the beach beside the quicksand. I could not but conclude that +this promenade was chosen with an eye to secrecy; for the spot was open +only to the seaward. But it suited me not less excellently; the highest +and most accidented of the sand-hills immediately adjoined; and from +these, lying flat in a hollow, I could overlook Northmour or the young +lady as they walked. + +The tall man seemed to have disappeared. Not only did he never cross +the threshold, but he never so much as showed face at a window; or, at +least, not so far as I could see; for I dared not creep forward beyond +a certain distance in the day, since the upper floor commanded the +bottoms of the links; and at night, when I could venture farther, the +lower windows were barricaded as if to stand a siege. Sometimes I +thought the tall man must be confined to bed, for I remembered the +feebleness of his gait; and sometimes I thought he must have gone clear +away, and that Northmour and the young lady remained alone together in +the pavilion. The idea, even then, displeased me. + +Whether or not this pair were man and wife, I had seen abundant reason +to doubt the friendliness of their relation. Although I could hear +nothing of what they said, and rarely so much as glean a decided +expression on the face of either, there was a distance, almost a +stiffness, in their bearing which showed them to be either unfamiliar +or at enmity. The girl walked faster when she was with Northmour than +when she was alone; and I conceived that any inclination between a man +and a woman would rather delay than accelerate the step. Moreover, she +kept a good yard free of him, and trailed her umbrella, as if it were a +barrier, on the side between them. Northmour kept sidling closer; and, +as the girl retired from his advance, their course lay at a sort of +diagonal across the beach, and would have landed them in the surf had +it been long enough continued. But, when this was imminent, the girl +would unostentatiously change sides and put Northmour between her and +the sea. I watched these manœuvres, for my part, with high enjoyment +and approval, and chuckled to myself at every move. + +On the morning of the third day, she walked alone for some time, and I +perceived, to my great concern, that she was more than once in tears. +You will see that my heart was already interested more than I supposed. +She had a firm yet airy motion of the body, and carried her head with +unimaginable grace; every step was a thing to look at, and she seemed +in my eyes to breathe sweetness and distinction. + +The day was so agreeable, being calm and sunshiny, with a tranquil sea, +and yet with a healthful piquancy and vigour in the air, that, contrary +to custom, she was tempted forth a second time to walk. On this +occasion she was accompanied by Northmour, and they had been but a +short while on the beach, when I saw him take forcible possession of +her hand. She struggled, and uttered a cry that was almost a scream. I +sprang to my feet, unmindful of my strange position; but, ere I had +taken a step, I saw Northmour bareheaded and bowing very low, as if to +apologise; and dropped again at once into my ambush. A few words were +interchanged; and then, with another bow, he left the beach to return +to the pavilion. He passed not far from me, and I could see him, +flushed and lowering, and cutting savagely with his cane among the +grass. It was not without satisfaction that I recognised my own +handiwork in a great cut under his right eye, and a considerable +discolouration round the socket. + +For some time the girl remained where he had left her, looking out past +the islet and over the bright sea. Then with a start, as one who throws +off preoccupation and puts energy again upon its mettle, she broke into +a rapid and decisive walk. She also was much incensed by what had +passed. She had forgotten where she was. And I beheld her walk straight +into the borders of the quicksand where it is most abrupt and +dangerous. Two or three steps farther and her life would have been in +serious jeopardy, when I slid down the face of the sand-hill, which is +there precipitous, and, running half-way forward, called to her to +stop. + +She did so, and turned round. There was not a tremor of fear in her +behaviour, and she marched directly up to me like a queen. I was +barefoot, and clad like a common sailor, save for an Egyptian scarf +round my waist; and she probably took me at first for some one from the +fisher village, straying after bait. As for her, when I thus saw her +face to face, her eyes set steadily and imperiously upon mine, I was +filled with admiration and astonishment, and thought her even more +beautiful than I had looked to find her. Nor could I think enough of +one who, acting with so much boldness, yet preserved a maidenly air +that was both quaint and engaging; for my wife kept an old-fashioned +precision of manner through all her admirable life—an excellent thing +in woman, since it sets another value on her sweet familiarities. + +“What does this mean?” she asked. + +“You were walking,” I told her, “directly into Graden Floe.” + +“You do not belong to these parts,” she said again. “You speak like an +educated man.” + +“I believe I have right to that name,” said I, “although in this +disguise.” + +But her woman’s eye had already detected the sash. “Oh!” she said; +“your sash betrays you.” + +“You have said the word _betray_,” I resumed. “May I ask you not to +betray me? I was obliged to disclose myself in your interest; but if +Northmour learned my presence it might be worse than disagreeable for +me.” + +“Do you know,” she asked, “to whom you are speaking?” + +“Not to Mr. Northmour’s wife?” I asked, by way of answer. + +She shook her head. All this while she was studying my face with an +embarrassing intentness. Then she broke out— + +“You have an honest face. Be honest like your face, sir, and tell me +what you want and what you are afraid of. Do you think I could hurt +you? I believe you have far more power to injure me! And yet you do not +look unkind. What do you mean—you, a gentleman—by skulking like a spy +about this desolate place? Tell me,” she said, “who is it you hate?” + +“I hate no one,” I answered; “and I fear no one face to face. My name +is Cassilis—Frank Cassilis. I lead the life of a vagabond for my own +good pleasure. I am one of Northmour’s oldest friends; and three nights +ago, when I addressed him on these links, he stabbed me in the shoulder +with a knife.” + +“It was you!” she said. + +“Why he did so,” I continued, disregarding the interruption, “is more +than I can guess, and more than I care to know. I have not many +friends, nor am I very susceptible to friendship; but no man shall +drive me from a place by terror. I had camped in Graden Sea-Wood ere he +came; I camp in it still. If you think I mean harm to you or yours, +madam, the remedy is in your hand. Tell him that my camp is in the +Hemlock Den, and to-night he can stab me in safety while I sleep.” + +With this I doffed my cap to her, and scrambled up once more among the +sand-hills. I do not know why, but I felt a prodigious sense of +injustice, and felt like a hero and a martyr; while, as a matter of +fact, I had not a word to say in my defence, nor so much as one +plausible reason to offer for my conduct. I had stayed at Graden out of +a curiosity natural enough, but undignified; and though there was +another motive growing in along with the first, it was not one which, +at that period, I could have properly explained to the lady of my +heart. + +Certainly, that night, I thought of no one else; and, though her whole +conduct and position seemed suspicious, I could not find it in my heart +to entertain a doubt of her integrity. I could have staked my life that +she was clear of blame, and, though all was dark at the present, that +the explanation of the mystery would show her part in these events to +be both right and needful. It was true, let me cudgel my imagination as +I pleased, that I could invent no theory of her relations to Northmour; +but I felt none the less sure of my conclusion because it was founded +on instinct in place of reason, and, as I may say, went to sleep that +night with the thought of her under my pillow. + +Next day she came out about the same hour alone, and, as soon as the +sand-hills concealed her from the pavilion, drew nearer to the edge, +and called me by name in guarded tones. I was astonished to observe +that she was deadly pale, and seemingly under the influence of strong +emotion. + +“Mr. Cassilis!” she cried; “Mr. Cassilis!” + +I appeared at once, and leaped down upon the beach. A remarkable air of +relief overspread her countenance as soon as she saw me. + +“Oh!” she cried, with a hoarse sound, like one whose bosom has been +lightened of a weight. And then, “Thank God you are still safe!” she +added; “I knew, if you were, you would be here.” (Was not this strange? +So swiftly and wisely does Nature prepare our hearts for these great +life-long intimacies, that both my wife and I had been given a +presentiment on this the second day of our acquaintance. I had even +then hoped that she would seek me; she had felt sure that she would +find me.) “Do not,” she went, on swiftly, “do not stay in this place. +Promise me that you will sleep no longer in that wood. You do not know +how I suffer; all last night I could not sleep for thinking of your +peril.” + +“Peril?” I repeated. “Peril from whom? From Northmour?” + +“Not so,” she said. “Did you think I would tell him after what you +said?” + +“Not from Northmour?” I repeated. “Then how? From whom? I see none to +be afraid of.” + +“You must not ask me,” was her reply, “for I am not free to tell you. +Only believe me, and go hence—believe me, and go away quickly, quickly, +for your life!” + +An appeal to his alarm is never a good plan to rid oneself of a +spirited young man. My obstinacy was but increased by what she said, +and I made it a point of honour to remain. And her solicitude for my +safety still more confirmed me in the resolve. + +“You must not think me inquisitive, madam,” I replied; “but, if Graden +is so dangerous a place, you yourself perhaps remain here at some +risk.” + +She only looked at me reproachfully. + +“You and your father—” I resumed; but she interrupted me almost with a +gasp. + +“My father! How do you know that?” she cried. + +“I saw you together when you landed,” was my answer; and I do not know +why, but it seemed satisfactory to both of us, as indeed it was the +truth. “But,” I continued, “you need have no fear from me. I see you +have some reason to be secret, and, you may believe me, your secret is +as safe with me as if I were in Graden Floe. I have scarce spoken to +any one for years; my horse is my only companion, and even he, poor +beast, is not beside me. You see, then, you may count on me for +silence. So tell me the truth, my dear young lady, are you not in +danger?” + +“Mr. Northmour says you are an honourable man,” she returned, “and I +believe it when I see you. I will tell you so much; you are right; we +are in dreadful, dreadful danger, and you share it by remaining where +you are.” + +“Ah!” said I; “you have heard of me from Northmour? And he gives me a +good character?” + +“I asked him about you last night,” was her reply. “I pretended,” she +hesitated, “I pretended to have met you long ago, and spoken to you of +him. It was not true; but I could not help myself without betraying +you, and you had put me in a difficulty. He praised you highly.” + +“And—you may permit me one question—does this danger come from +Northmour?” I asked. + +“From Mr. Northmour?” she cried. “Oh no; he stays with us to share it.” + +“While you propose that I should run away?” I said. “You do not rate me +very high.” + +“Why should you stay?” she asked. “You are no friend of ours.” + +I know not what came over me, for I had not been conscious of a similar +weakness since I was a child, but I was so mortified by this retort +that my eyes pricked and filled with tears, as I continued to gaze upon +her face. + +“No, no,” she said, in a changed voice; “I did not mean the words +unkindly.” + +“It was I who offended,” I said; and I held out my hand with a look of +appeal that somehow touched her, for she gave me hers at once, and even +eagerly. I held it for awhile in mine, and gazed into her eyes. It was +she who first tore her hand away, and, forgetting all about her request +and the promise she had sought to extort, ran at the top of her speed, +and without turning, till she was out of sight. + +And then I knew that I loved her, and thought in my glad heart that +she—she herself—was not indifferent to my suit. Many a time she has +denied it in after days, but it was with a smiling and not a serious +denial. For my part, I am sure our hands would not have lain so closely +in each other if she had not begun to melt to me already. And, when all +is said, it is no great contention, since, by her own avowal, she began +to love me on the morrow. + +And yet on the morrow very little took place. She came and called me +down as on the day before, upbraided me for lingering at Graden, and, +when she found I was still obdurate, began to ask me more particularly +as to my arrival. I told her by what series of accidents I had come to +witness their disembarkation, and how I had determined to remain, +partly from the interest which had been wakened in me by Northmour’s +guests, and partly because of his own murderous attack. As to the +former, I fear I was disingenuous, and led her to regard herself as +having been an attraction to me from the first moment that I saw her on +the links. It relieves my heart to make this confession even now, when +my wife is with God, and already knows all things, and the honesty of +my purpose even in this; for while she lived, although it often pricked +my conscience, I had never the hardihood to undeceive her. Even a +little secret, in such a married life as ours, is like the rose-leaf +which kept the Princess from her sleep. + +From this the talk branched into other subjects, and I told her much +about my lonely and wandering existence; she, for her part, giving ear, +and saying little. Although we spoke very naturally, and latterly on +topics that might seem indifferent, we were both sweetly agitated. Too +soon it was time for her to go; and we separated, as if by mutual +consent, without shaking hands, for both knew that, between us, it was +no idle ceremony. + +The next, and that was the fourth day of our acquaintance, we met in +the same spot, but early in the morning, with much familiarity and yet +much timidity on either side. When she had once more spoken about my +danger—and that, I understood, was her excuse for coming—I, who had +prepared a great deal of talk during the night, began to tell her how +highly I valued her kind interest, and how no one had ever cared to +hear about my life, nor had I ever cared to relate it, before +yesterday. Suddenly she interrupted me, saying with vehemence— + +“And yet, if you knew who I was, you would not so much as speak to me!” + +I told her such a thought was madness, and, little as we had met, I +counted her already a dear friend; but my protestations seemed only to +make her more desperate. + +“My father is in hiding!” she cried. + +“My dear,” I said, forgetting for the first time to add “young lady,” +“what do I care? If he were in hiding twenty times over, would it make +one thought of change in you?” + +“Ah, but the cause!” she cried, “the cause! It is—” she faltered for a +second—“it is disgraceful to us!” + + + + +CHAPTER IV +TELLS IN WHAT A STARTLING MANNER I LEARNED THAT I WAS NOT ALONE IN +GRADEN SEA-WOOD + + +This was my wife’s story, as I drew it from her among tears and sobs. +Her name was Clara Huddlestone: it sounded very beautiful in my ears; +but not so beautiful as that other name of Clara Cassilis, which she +wore during the longer and, I thank God, the happier portion of her +life. Her father, Bernard Huddlestone, had been a private banker in a +very large way of business. Many years before, his affairs becoming +disordered, he had been led to try dangerous, and at last criminal, +expedients to retrieve himself from ruin. All was in vain; he became +more and more cruelly involved, and found his honour lost at the same +moment with his fortune. About this period, Northmour had been courting +his daughter with great assiduity, though with small encouragement; and +to him, knowing him thus disposed in his favour, Bernard Huddlestone +turned for help in his extremity. It was not merely ruin and dishonour, +nor merely a legal condemnation, that the unhappy man had brought upon +his head. It seems he could have gone to prison with a light heart. +What he feared, what kept him awake at night or recalled him from +slumber into frenzy, was some secret, sudden, and unlawful attempt upon +his life. Hence, he desired to bury his existence and escape to one of +the islands in the South Pacific, and it was in Northmour’s yacht, the +_Red Earl_, that he designed to go. The yacht picked them up +clandestinely upon the coast of Wales, and had once more deposited them +at Graden, till she could be refitted and provisioned for the longer +voyage. Nor could Clara doubt that her hand had been stipulated as the +price of passage. For, although Northmour was neither unkind nor even +discourteous, he had shown himself in several instances somewhat +overbold in speech and manner. + +I listened, I need not say, with fixed attention, and put many +questions as to the more mysterious part. It was in vain. She had no +clear idea of what the blow was, nor of how it was expected to fall. +Her father’s alarm was unfeigned and physically prostrating, and he had +thought more than once of making an unconditional surrender to the +police. But the scheme was finally abandoned, for he was convinced that +not even the strength of our English prisons could shelter him from his +pursuers. He had had many affairs with Italy, and with Italians +resident in London, in the later years of his business; and these last, +as Clara fancied, were somehow connected with the doom that threatened +him. He had shown great terror at the presence of an Italian seaman on +board the _Red Earl_, and had bitterly and repeatedly accused Northmour +in consequence. The latter had protested that Beppo (that was the +seaman’s name) was a capital fellow, and could be trusted to the death; +but Mr. Huddlestone had continued ever since to declare that all was +lost, that it was only a question of days, and that Beppo would be the +ruin of him yet. + +I regarded the whole story as the hallucination of a mind shaken by +calamity. He had suffered heavy loss by his Italian transactions; and +hence the sight of an Italian was hateful to him, and the principal +part in his nightmare would naturally enough be played by one of that +nation. + +“What your father wants,” I said, “is a good doctor and some calming +medicine.” + +“But Mr. Northmour?” objected your mother. “He is untroubled by losses, +and yet he shares in this terror.” + +I could not help laughing at what I considered her simplicity. + +“My dear,” said I, “you have told me yourself what reward he has to +look for. All is fair in love, you must remember; and if Northmour +foments your father’s terrors, it is not at all because he is afraid of +any Italian man, but simply because he is infatuated with a charming +English woman.” + +She reminded me of his attack upon myself on the night of the +disembarkation, and this I was unable to explain. In short, and from +one thing to another, it was agreed between us, that I should set out +at once for the fisher village, Graden Wester, as it was called, look +up all the newspapers I could find, and see for myself if there seemed +any basis of fact for these continued alarms. The next morning, at the +same hour and place, I was to make my report to Clara. She said no more +on that occasion about my departure; nor, indeed, did she make it a +secret that she clung to the thought of my proximity as something +helpful and pleasant; and, for my part, I could not have left her, if +she had gone upon her knees to ask it. + +I reached Graden Wester before ten in the forenoon; for in those days I +was an excellent pedestrian, and the distance, as I think I have said, +was little over seven miles; fine walking all the way upon the springy +turf. The village is one of the bleakest on that coast, which is saying +much: there is a church in a hollow; a miserable haven in the rocks, +where many boats have been lost as they returned from fishing; two or +three score of stone houses arranged along the beach and in two +streets, one leading from the harbour, and another striking out from it +at right angles; and, at the corner of these two, a very dark and +cheerless tavern, by way of principal hotel. + +I had dressed myself somewhat more suitably to my station in life, and +at once called upon the minister in his little manse beside the +graveyard. He knew me, although it was more than nine years since we +had met; and when I told him that I had been long upon a walking tour, +and was behind with the news, readily lent me an armful of newspapers, +dating from a month back to the day before. With these I sought the +tavern, and, ordering some breakfast, sat down to study the +“Huddlestone Failure.” + +It had been, it appeared, a very flagrant case. Thousands of persons +were reduced to poverty; and one in particular had blown out his brains +as soon as payment was suspended. It was strange to myself that, while +I read these details, I continued rather to sympathise with Mr. +Huddlestone than with his victims; so complete already was the empire +of my love for my wife. A price was naturally set upon the banker’s +head; and, as the case was inexcusable and the public indignation +thoroughly aroused, the unusual figure of £750 was offered for his +capture. He was reported to have large sums of money in his possession. +One day, he had been heard of in Spain; the next, there was sure +intelligence that he was still lurking between Manchester and +Liverpool, or along the border of Wales; and the day after, a telegram +would announce his arrival in Cuba or Yucatan. But in all this there +was no word of an Italian, nor any sign of mystery. + +In the very last paper, however, there was one item not so clear. The +accountants who were charged to verify the failure had, it seemed, come +upon the traces of a very large number of thousands, which figured for +some time in the transactions of the house of Huddlestone; but which +came from nowhere, and disappeared in the same mysterious fashion. It +was only once referred to by name, and then under the initials “X. X.”; +but it had plainly been floated for the first time into the business at +a period of great depression some six years ago. The name of a +distinguished Royal personage had been mentioned by rumour in +connection with this sum. “The cowardly desperado”—such, I remember, +was the editorial expression—was supposed to have escaped with a large +part of this mysterious fund still in his possession. + +I was still brooding over the fact, and trying to torture it into some +connection with Mr. Huddlestone’s danger, when a man entered the tavern +and asked for some bread and cheese with a decided foreign accent. + +“_Siete Italiano_?” said I. + +“_Sì_, _signor_,” was his reply. + +I said it was unusually far north to find one of his compatriots; at +which he shrugged his shoulders, and replied that a man would go +anywhere to find work. What work he could hope to find at Graden +Wester, I was totally unable to conceive; and the incident struck so +unpleasantly upon my mind, that I asked the landlord, while he was +counting me some change, whether he had ever before seen an Italian in +the village. He said he had once seen some Norwegians, who had been +shipwrecked on the other side of Graden Ness and rescued by the +lifeboat from Cauldhaven. + +“No!” said I; “but an Italian, like the man who has just had bread and +cheese.” + +“What?” cried he, “yon black-avised fellow wi’ the teeth? Was he an +I-talian? Weel, yon’s the first that ever I saw, an’ I dare say he’s +like to be the last.” + +Even as he was speaking, I raised my eyes, and, casting a glance into +the street, beheld three men in earnest conversation together, and not +thirty yards away. One of them was my recent companion in the tavern +parlour; the other two, by their handsome, sallow features and soft +hats, should evidently belong to the same race. A crowd of village +children stood around them, gesticulating and talking gibberish in +imitation. The trio looked singularly foreign to the bleak dirty street +in which they were standing, and the dark grey heaven that overspread +them; and I confess my incredulity received at that moment a shock from +which it never recovered. I might reason with myself as I pleased, but +I could not argue down the effect of what I had seen, and I began to +share in the Italian terror. + +It was already drawing towards the close of the day before I had +returned the newspapers at the manse, and got well forward on to the +links on my way home. I shall never forget that walk. It grew very cold +and boisterous; the wind sang in the short grass about my feet; thin +rain showers came running on the gusts; and an immense mountain range +of clouds began to arise out of the bosom of the sea. It would be hard +to imagine a more dismal evening; and whether it was from these +external influences, or because my nerves were already affected by what +I had heard and seen, my thoughts were as gloomy as the weather. + +The upper windows of the pavilion commanded a considerable spread of +links in the direction of Graden Wester. To avoid observation, it was +necessary to hug the beach until I had gained cover from the higher +sand-hills on the little headland, when I might strike across, through +the hollows, for the margin of the wood. The sun was about setting; the +tide was low, and all the quicksands uncovered; and I was moving along, +lost in unpleasant thought, when I was suddenly thunderstruck to +perceive the prints of human feet. They ran parallel to my own course, +but low down upon the beach instead of along the border of the turf; +and, when I examined them, I saw at once, by the size and coarseness of +the impression, that it was a stranger to me and to those in the +pavilion who had recently passed that way. Not only so; but from the +recklessness of the course which he had followed, steering near to the +most formidable portions of the sand, he was as evidently a stranger to +the country and to the ill-repute of Graden beach. + +Step by step I followed the prints; until, a quarter of a mile farther, +I beheld them die away into the south-eastern boundary of Graden Floe. +There, whoever he was, the miserable man had perished. One or two +gulls, who had, perhaps, seen him disappear, wheeled over his sepulchre +with their usual melancholy piping. The sun had broken through the +clouds by a last effort, and coloured the wide level of quicksands with +a dusky purple. I stood for some time gazing at the spot, chilled and +disheartened by my own reflections, and with a strong and commanding +consciousness of death. I remember wondering how long the tragedy had +taken, and whether his screams had been audible at the pavilion. And +then, making a strong resolution, I was about to tear myself away, when +a gust fiercer than usual fell upon this quarter of the beach, and I +saw now, whirling high in air, now skimming lightly across the surface +of the sands, a soft, black, felt hat, somewhat conical in shape, such +as I had remarked already on the heads of the Italians. + +I believe, but I am not sure, that I uttered a cry. The wind was +driving the hat shoreward, and I ran round the border of the floe to be +ready against its arrival. The gust fell, dropping the hat for a while +upon the quicksand, and then, once more freshening, landed it a few +yards from where I stood. I seized it with the interest you may +imagine. It had seen some service; indeed, it was rustier than either +of those I had seen that day upon the street. The lining was red, +stamped with the name of the maker, which I have forgotten, and that of +the place of manufacture, _Venedig_. This (it is not yet forgotten) was +the name given by the Austrians to the beautiful city of Venice, then, +and for long after, a part of their dominions. + +The shock was complete. I saw imaginary Italians upon every side; and +for the first, and, I may say, for the last time in my experience, +became overpowered by what is called a panic terror. I knew nothing, +that is, to be afraid of, and yet I admit that I was heartily afraid; +and it was with a sensible reluctance that I returned to my exposed and +solitary camp in the Sea-Wood. + +There I ate some cold porridge which had been left over from the night +before, for I was disinclined to make a fire; and, feeling strengthened +and reassured, dismissed all these fanciful terrors from my mind, and +lay down to sleep with composure. + +How long I may have slept it is impossible for me to guess; but I was +awakened at last by a sudden, blinding flash of light into my face. It +woke me like a blow. In an instant I was upon my knees. But the light +had gone as suddenly as it came. The darkness was intense. And, as it +was blowing great guns from the sea and pouring with rain, the noises +of the storm effectually concealed all others. + +It was, I dare say, half a minute before I regained my self-possession. +But for two circumstances, I should have thought I had been awakened by +some new and vivid form of nightmare. First, the flap of my tent, which +I had shut carefully when I retired, was now unfastened; and, second, I +could still perceive, with a sharpness that excluded any theory of +hallucination, the smell of hot metal and of burning oil. The +conclusion was obvious. I had been wakened by some one flashing a +bull’s-eye lantern in my face. It had been but a flash, and away. He +had seen my face, and then gone. I asked myself the object of so +strange a proceeding, and the answer came pat. The man, whoever he was, +had thought to recognise me, and he had not. There was yet another +question unresolved; and to this, I may say, I feared to give an +answer; if he had recognised me, what would he have done? + +My fears were immediately diverted from myself, for I saw that I had +been visited in a mistake; and I became persuaded that some dreadful +danger threatened the pavilion. It required some nerve to issue forth +into the black and intricate thicket which surrounded and overhung the +den; but I groped my way to the links, drenched with rain, beaten upon +and deafened by the gusts, and fearing at every step to lay my hand +upon some lurking adversary. The darkness was so complete that I might +have been surrounded by an army and yet none the wiser, and the uproar +of the gale so loud that my hearing was as useless as my sight. + +For the rest of that night, which seemed interminably long, I patrolled +the vicinity of the pavilion, without seeing a living creature or +hearing any noise but the concert of the wind, the sea, and the rain. A +light in the upper story filtered through a cranny of the shutter, and +kept me company till the approach of dawn. + + + + +CHAPTER V +TELLS OF AN INTERVIEW BETWEEN NORTHMOUR, CLARA, AND MYSELF + + +With the first peep of day, I retired from the open to my old lair +among the sand-hills, there to await the coming of my wife. The morning +was grey, wild, and melancholy; the wind moderated before sunrise, and +then went about, and blew in puffs from the shore; the sea began to go +down, but the rain still fell without mercy. Over all the wilderness of +links there was not a creature to be seen. Yet I felt sure the +neighbourhood was alive with skulking foes. The light that had been so +suddenly and surprisingly flashed upon my face as I lay sleeping, and +the hat that had been blown ashore by the wind from over Graden Floe, +were two speaking signals of the peril that environed Clara and the +party in the pavilion. + +It was, perhaps, half-past seven, or nearer eight, before I saw the +door open, and that dear figure come towards me in the rain. I was +waiting for her on the beach before she had crossed the sand-hills. + +“I have had such trouble to come!” she cried. “They did not wish me to +go walking in the rain.” + +“Clara,” I said, “you are not frightened!” + +“No,” said she, with a simplicity that filled my heart with confidence. +For my wife was the bravest as well as the best of women; in my +experience, I have not found the two go always together, but with her +they did; and she combined the extreme of fortitude with the most +endearing and beautiful virtues. + +I told her what had happened; and, though her cheek grew visibly paler, +she retained perfect control over her senses. + +“You see now that I am safe,” said I, in conclusion. “They do not mean +to harm me; for, had they chosen, I was a dead man last night.” + +She laid her hand upon my arm. + +“And I had no presentiment!” she cried. + +Her accent thrilled me with delight. I put my arm about her, and +strained her to my side; and, before either of us was aware, her hands +were on my shoulders and my lips upon her mouth. Yet up to that moment +no word of love had passed between us. To this day I remember the touch +of her cheek, which was wet and cold with the rain; and many a time +since, when she has been washing her face, I have kissed it again for +the sake of that morning on the beach. Now that she is taken from me, +and I finish my pilgrimage alone, I recall our old lovingkindnesses and +the deep honesty and affection which united us, and my present loss +seems but a trifle in comparison. + +We may have thus stood for some seconds—for time passes quickly with +lovers—before we were startled by a peal of laughter close at hand. It +was not natural mirth, but seemed to be affected in order to conceal an +angrier feeling. We both turned, though I still kept my left arm about +Clara’s waist; nor did she seek to withdraw herself; and there, a few +paces off upon the beach, stood Northmour, his head lowered, his hands +behind his back, his nostrils white with passion. + +“Ah! Cassilis!” he said, as I disclosed my face. + +“That same,” said I; for I was not at all put about. + +“And so, Miss Huddlestone,” he continued slowly but savagely, “this is +how you keep your faith to your father and to me? This is the value you +set upon your father’s life? And you are so infatuated with this young +gentleman that you must brave ruin, and decency, and common human +caution—” + +“Miss Huddlestone—” I was beginning to interrupt him, when he, in his +turn, cut in brutally— + +“You hold your tongue,” said he; “I am speaking to that girl.” + +“That girl, as you call her, is my wife,” said I; and my wife only +leaned a little nearer, so that I knew she had affirmed my words. + +“Your what?” he cried. “You lie!” + +“Northmour,” I said, “we all know you have a bad temper, and I am the +last man to be irritated by words. For all that, I propose that you +speak lower, for I am convinced that we are not alone.” + +He looked round him, and it was plain my remark had in some degree +sobered his passion. “What do you mean?” he asked. + +I only said one word: “Italians.” + +He swore a round oath, and looked at us, from one to the other. + +“Mr. Cassilis knows all that I know,” said my wife. + +“What I want to know,” he broke out, “is where the devil Mr. Cassilis +comes from, and what the devil Mr. Cassilis is doing here. You say you +are married; that I do not believe. If you were, Graden Floe would soon +divorce you; four minutes and a half, Cassilis. I keep my private +cemetery for my friends.” + +“It took somewhat longer,” said I, “for that Italian.” + +He looked at me for a moment half daunted, and then, almost civilly, +asked me to tell my story. “You have too much the advantage of me, +Cassilis,” he added. I complied of course; and he listened, with +several ejaculations, while I told him how I had come to Graden: that +it was I whom he had tried to murder on the night of landing; and what +I had subsequently seen and heard of the Italians. + +“Well,” said he, when I had done, “it is here at last; there is no +mistake about that. And what, may I ask, do you propose to do?” + +“I propose to stay with you and lend a hand,” said I. + +“You are a brave man,” he returned, with a peculiar intonation. + +“I am not afraid,” said I. + +“And so,” he continued, “I am to understand that you two are married? +And you stand up to it before my face, Miss Huddlestone?” + +“We are not yet married,” said Clara; “but we shall be as soon as we +can.” + +“Bravo!” cried Northmour. “And the bargain? D—n it, you’re not a fool, +young woman; I may call a spade a spade with you. How about the +bargain? You know as well as I do what your father’s life depends upon. +I have only to put my hands under my coat-tails and walk away, and his +throat would he cut before the evening.” + +“Yes, Mr. Northmour,” returned Clara, with great spirit; “but that is +what you will never do. You made a bargain that was unworthy of a +gentleman; but you are a gentleman for all that, and you will never +desert a man whom you have begun to help.” + +“Aha!” said he. “You think I will give my yacht for nothing? You think +I will risk my life and liberty for love of the old gentleman; and +then, I suppose, be best man at the wedding, to wind up? Well,” he +added, with an odd smile, “perhaps you are not altogether wrong. But +ask Cassilis here. _He_ knows me. Am I a man to trust? Am I safe and +scrupulous? Am I kind?” + +“I know you talk a great deal, and sometimes, I think, very foolishly,” +replied Clara, “but I know you are a gentleman, and I am not the least +afraid.” + +He looked at her with a peculiar approval and admiration; then, turning +to me, “Do you think I would give her up without a struggle, Frank?” +said he. “I tell you plainly, you look out. The next time we come to +blows—” + +“Will make the third,” I interrupted, smiling. + +“Aye, true; so it will,” he said. “I had forgotten. Well, the third +time’s lucky.” + +“The third time, you mean, you will have the crew of the _Red Earl_ to +help,” I said. + +“Do you hear him?” he asked, turning to my wife. + +“I hear two men speaking like cowards,” said she. “I should despise +myself either to think or speak like that. And neither of you believe +one word that you are saying, which makes it the more wicked and +silly.” + +“She’s a trump!” cried Northmour. “But she’s not yet Mrs. Cassilis. I +say no more. The present is not for me.” Then my wife surprised me. + +“I leave you here,” she said suddenly. “My father has been too long +alone. But remember this: you are to be friends, for you are both good +friends to me.” + +She has since told me her reason for this step. As long as she +remained, she declares that we two would have continued to quarrel; and +I suppose that she was right, for when she was gone we fell at once +into a sort of confidentiality. + +Northmour stared after her as she went away over the sand-hill + +“She is the only woman in the world!” he exclaimed with an oath. “Look +at her action.” + +I, for my part, leaped at this opportunity for a little further light. + +“See here, Northmour,” said I; “we are all in a tight place, are we +not?” + +“I believe you, my boy,” he answered, looking me in the eyes, and with +great emphasis. “We have all hell upon us, that’s the truth. You may +believe me or not, but I’m afraid of my life.” + +“Tell me one thing,” said I. “What are they after, these Italians? What +do they want with Mr. Huddlestone?” + +“Don’t you know?” he cried. “The black old scamp had_ carbonaro_ funds +on a deposit—two hundred and eighty thousand; and of course he gambled +it away on stocks. There was to have been a revolution in the +Tridentino, or Parma; but the revolution is off, and the whole wasp’s +nest is after Huddlestone. We shall all be lucky if we can save our +skins.” + +“The _carbonari_!” I exclaimed; “God help him indeed!” + +“Amen!” said Northmour. “And now, look here: I have said that we are in +a fix; and, frankly, I shall be glad of your help. If I can’t save +Huddlestone, I want at least to save the girl. Come and stay in the +pavilion; and, there’s my hand on it, I shall act as your friend until +the old man is either clear or dead. But,” he added, “once that is +settled, you become my rival once again, and I warn you—mind yourself.” + +“Done!” said I; and we shook hands. + +“And now let us go directly to the fort,” said Northmour; and he began +to lead the way through the rain. + + + + +CHAPTER VI +TELLS OF MY INTRODUCTION TO THE TALL MAN + + +We were admitted to the pavilion by Clara, and I was surprised by the +completeness and security of the defences. A barricade of great +strength, and yet easy to displace, supported the door against Any +violence from without; and the shutters of the dining-room, into which +I was led directly, and which was feebly illuminated by a lamp, were +even more elaborately fortified. The panels were strengthened by bars +and cross-bars; and these, in their turn, were kept in position by a +system of braces and struts, some abutting on the floor, some on the +roof, and others, in fine, against the opposite wall of the apartment. +It was at once a solid and well-designed piece of carpentry; and I did +not seek to conceal my admiration. + +“I am the engineer,” said Northmour. “You remember the planks in the +garden? Behold them?” + +“I did not know you had so many talents,” said I. + +“Are you armed?” he continued, pointing to an array of guns and +pistols, all in admirable order, which stood in line against the wall +or were displayed upon the sideboard. + +“Thank you,” I returned; “I have gone armed since our last encounter. +But, to tell you the truth, I have had nothing to eat since early +yesterday evening.” + +Northmour produced some cold meat, to which I eagerly set myself, and a +bottle of good Burgundy, by which, wet as I was, I did not scruple to +profit. I have always been an extreme temperance man on principle; but +it is useless to push principle to excess, and on this occasion I +believe that I finished three-quarters of the bottle. As I ate, I still +continued to admire the preparations for defence. + +“We could stand a siege,” I said at length. + +“Ye-es,” drawled Northmour; “a very little one, per-haps. It is not so +much the strength of the pavilion I misdoubt; it is the doubled anger +that kills me. If we get to shooting, wild as the country is some one +is sure to hear it, and then—why then it’s the same thing, only +different, as they say: caged by law, or killed by _carbonari_. There’s +the choice. It is a devilish bad thing to have the law against you in +this world, and so I tell the old gentleman upstairs. He is quite of my +way of thinking.” + +“Speaking of that,” said I, “what kind of person is he?” + +“Oh, he!” cried the other; “he’s a rancid fellow, as far as he goes. I +should like to have his neck wrung to-morrow by all the devils in +Italy. I am not in this affair for him. You take me? I made a bargain +for Missy’s hand, and I mean to have it too.” + +“That by the way,” said I. “I understand. But how will Mr. Huddlestone +take my intrusion?” + +“Leave that to Clara,” returned Northmour. + +I could have struck him in the face for this coarse familiarity; but I +respected the truce, as, I am bound to say, did Northmour, and so long +as the danger continued not a cloud arose in our relation. I bear him +this testimony with the most unfeigned satisfaction; nor am I without +pride when I look back upon my own behaviour. For surely no two men +were ever left in a position so invidious and irritating. + +As soon as I had done eating, we proceeded to inspect the lower floor. +Window by window we tried the different supports, now and then making +an inconsiderable change; and the strokes of the hammer sounded with +startling loudness through the house. I proposed, I remember, to make +loop-holes; but he told me they were already made in the windows of the +upper story. It was an anxious business this inspection, and left me +down-hearted. There were two doors and five windows to protect, and, +counting Clara, only four of us to defend them against an unknown +number of foes. I communicated my doubts to Northmour, who assured me, +with unmoved composure, that he entirely shared them. + +“Before morning,” said he, “we shall all be butchered and buried in +Graden Floe. For me, that is written.” + +I could not help shuddering at the mention of the quicksand, but +reminded Northmour that our enemies had spared me in the wood. + +“Do not flatter yourself,” said he. “Then you were not in the same boat +with the old gentleman; now you are. It’s the floe for all of us, mark +my words.” + +I trembled for Clara; and just then her dear voice was heard calling us +to come upstairs. Northmour showed me the way, and, when he had reached +the landing, knocked at the door of what used to be called _My Uncle’s +Bedroom_, as the founder of the pavilion had designed it especially for +himself. + +“Come in, Northmour; come in, dear Mr. Cassilis,” said a voice from +within. + +Pushing open the door, Northmour admitted me before him into the +apartment. As I came in I could see the daughter slipping out by the +side door into the study, which had been prepared as her bedroom. In +the bed, which was drawn back against the wall, instead of standing, as +I had last seen it, boldly across the window, sat Bernard Huddlestone, +the defaulting banker. Little as I had seen of him by the shifting +light of the lantern on the links, I had no difficulty in recognising +him for the same. He had a long and sallow countenance, surrounded by a +long red beard and side whiskers. His broken nose and high cheekbones +gave him somewhat the air of a Kalmuck, and his light eyes shone with +the excitement of a high fever. He wore a skull-cap of black silk; a +huge Bible lay open before him on the bed, with a pair of gold +spectacles in the place, and a pile of other books lay on the stand by +his side. The green curtains lent a cadaverous shade to his cheek; and, +as he sat propped on pillows, his great stature was painfully hunched, +and his head protruded till it overhung his knees. I believe if he had +not died otherwise, he must have fallen a victim to consumption in the +course of but a very few weeks. + +He held out to me a hand, long, thin, and disagreeably hairy. + +“Come in, come in, Mr. Cassilis,” said he. “Another +protector—ahem!—another protector. Always welcome as a friend of my +daughter’s, Mr. Cassilis. How they have rallied about me, my daughter’s +friends! May God in heaven bless and reward them for it!” + +I gave him my hand, of course, because I could not help it; but the +sympathy I had been prepared to feel for Clara’s father was immediately +soured by his appearance, and the wheedling, unreal tones in which he +spoke. + +“Cassilis is a good man,” said Northmour; “worth ten.” + +“So I hear,” cried Mr. Huddlestone eagerly “so my girl tells me. Ah, +Mr. Cassilis, my sin has found me out, you see! I am very low, very +low; but I hope equally penitent. We must all come to the throne of +grace at last, Mr. Cassilis. For my part, I come late indeed; but with +unfeigned humility, I trust.” + +“Fiddle-de-dee!” said Northmour roughly. + +“No, no, dear Northmour!” cried the banker. “You must not say that; you +must not try to shake me. You forget, my dear, good boy, you forget I +may be called this very night before my Maker.” + +His excitement was pitiful to behold; and I felt myself grow indignant +with Northmour, whose infidel opinions I well knew, and heartily +derided, as he continued to taunt the poor sinner out of his humour of +repentance. + +“Pooh, my dear Huddlestone!” said he. “You do yourself injustice. You +are a man of the world inside and out, and were up to all kinds of +mischief before I was born. Your conscience is tanned like South +American leather—only you forgot to tan your liver, and that, if you +will believe me, is the seat of the annoyance.” + +“Rogue, rogue! bad boy!” said Mr. Huddlestone, shaking his finger. “I +am no precisian, if you come to that; I always hated a precisian; but I +never lost hold of something better through it all. I have been a bad +boy, Mr. Cassilis; I do not seek to deny that; but it was after my +wife’s death, and you know, with a widower, it’s a different thing: +sinful—I won’t say no; but there is a gradation, we shall hope. And +talking of that—Hark!” he broke out suddenly, his hand raised, his +fingers spread, his face racked with interest and terror. “Only the +rain, bless God!” he added, after a pause, and with indescribable +relief. + +For some seconds he lay back among the pillows like a man near to +fainting; then he gathered himself together, and, in somewhat tremulous +tones, began once more to thank me for the share I was prepared to take +in his defence. + +“One question, sir,” said I, when he had paused. “Is it true that you +have money with you?” + +He seemed annoyed by the question, but admitted with reluctance that he +had a little. + +“Well,” I continued, “it is their money they are after, is it not? Why +not give it up to them?” + +“Ah!” replied he, shaking his head, “I have tried that already, Mr. +Cassilis; and alas that it should be so! but it is blood they want.” + +“Huddlestone, that’s a little less than fair,” said Northmour. “You +should mention that what you offered them was upwards of two hundred +thousand short. The deficit is worth a reference; it is for what they +call a cool sum, Frank. Then, you see, the fellows reason in their +clear Italian way; and it seems to them, as indeed it seems to me, that +they may just as well have both while they’re about it—money and blood +together, by George, and no more trouble for the extra pleasure.” + +“Is it in the pavilion?” I asked. + +“It is; and I wish it were in the bottom of the sea instead,” said +Northmour; and then suddenly—“What are you making faces at me for?” he +cried to Mr. Huddlestone, on whom I had unconsciously turned my back. +“Do you think Cassilis would sell you?” + +Mr. Huddlestone protested that nothing had been further from his mind. + +“It is a good thing,” retorted Northmour in his ugliest manner. “You +might end by wearying us. What were you going to say?” he added, +turning to me. + +“I was going to propose an occupation for the afternoon,” said I. “Let +us carry that money out, piece by piece, and lay it down before the +pavilion door. If the _carbonari_ come, why, it’s theirs at any rate.” + +“No, no,” cried Mr. Huddlestone; “it does not, it cannot belong to +them! It should be distributed _pro rata_ among all my creditors.” + +“Come now, Huddlestone,” said Northmour, “none of that.” + +“Well, but my daughter,” moaned the wretched man. + +“Your daughter will do well enough. Here are two suitors, Cassilis and +I, neither of us beggars, between whom she has to choose. And as for +yourself, to make an end of arguments, you have no right to a farthing, +and, unless I’m much mistaken, you are going to die.” + +It was certainly very cruelly said; but Mr. Huddlestone was a man who +attracted little sympathy; and, although I saw him wince and shudder, I +mentally endorsed the rebuke; nay, I added a contribution of my own. + +“Northmour and I,” I said, “are willing enough to help you to save your +life, but not to escape with stolen property.” + +He struggled for a while with himself, as though he were on the point +of giving way to anger, but prudence had the best of the controversy. + +“My dear boys,” he said, “do with me or my money what you will. I leave +all in your hands. Let me compose myself.” + +And so we left him, gladly enough I am sure. The last that I saw, he +had once more taken up his great Bible, and with tremulous hands was +adjusting his spectacles to read. + + + + +CHAPTER VII +TELLS HOW A WORD WAS CRIED THROUGH THE PAVILION WINDOW + + +The recollection of that afternoon will always be graven on my mind. +Northmour and I were persuaded that an attack was imminent; and if it +had been in our power to alter in any way the order of events, that +power would have been used to precipitate rather than delay the +critical moment. The worst was to be anticipated; yet we could conceive +no extremity so miserable as the suspense we were now suffering. I have +never been an eager, though always a great, reader; but I never knew +books so insipid as those which I took up and cast aside that afternoon +in the pavilion. Even talk became impossible, as the hours went on. One +or other was always listening for some sound, or peering from an +upstairs window over the links. And yet not a sign indicated the +presence of our foes. + +We debated over and over again my proposal with regard to the money; +and had we been in complete possession of our faculties, I am sure we +should have condemned it as unwise; but we were flustered with alarm, +grasped at a straw, and determined, although it was as much as +advertising Mr. Huddlestone’s presence in the pavilion, to carry my +proposal into effect. + +The sum was part in specie, part in bank paper, and part in circular +notes payable to the name of James Gregory. We took it out, counted it, +enclosed it once more in a despatch-box belonging to Northmour, and +prepared a letter in Italian which he tied to the handle. It was signed +by both of us under oath, and declared that this was all the money +which had escaped the failure of the house of Huddlestone. This was, +perhaps, the maddest action ever perpetrated by two persons professing +to be sane. Had the despatch-box fallen into other hands than those for +which it was intended, we stood criminally convicted on our own written +testimony; but, as I have said, we were neither of us in a condition to +judge soberly, and had a thirst for action that drove us to do +something, right or wrong, rather than endure the agony of waiting. +Moreover, as we were both convinced that the hollows of the links were +alive with hidden spies upon our movements, we hoped that our +appearance with the box might lead to a parley, and, perhaps, a +compromise. + +It was nearly three when we issued from the pavilion. The rain had +taken off; the sun shone quite cheerfully. + +I have never seen the gulls fly so close about the house or approach so +fearlessly to human beings. On the very doorstep one flapped heavily +past our heads, and uttered its wild cry in my very ear. + +“There is an omen for you,” said Northmour, who like all freethinkers +was much under the influence of superstition. “They think we are +already dead.” + +I made some light rejoinder, but it was with half my heart; for the +circumstance had impressed me. + +A yard or two before the gate, on a patch of smooth turf, we set down +the despatch-box; and Northmour waved a white handkerchief over his +head. Nothing replied. We raised our voices, and cried aloud in Italian +that we were there as ambassadors to arrange the quarrel; but the +stillness remained unbroken save by the sea-gulls and the surf. I had a +weight at my heart when we desisted; and I saw that even Northmour was +unusually pale. He looked over his shoulder nervously, as though he +feared that some one had crept between him and the pavilion door. + +“By God,” he said in a whisper, “this is too much for me!” + +I replied in the same key: “Suppose there should be none, after all!” + +“Look there,” he returned, nodding with his head, as though he had been +afraid to point. + +I glanced in the direction indicated; and there, from the northern +quarter of the Sea-Wood, beheld a thin column of smoke rising steadily +against the now cloudless sky. + +“Northmour,” I said (we still continued to talk in whispers), “it is +not possible to endure this suspense. I prefer death fifty times over. +Stay you here to watch the pavilion; I will go forward and make sure, +if I have to walk right into their camp.” + +He looked once again all round him with puckered eyes, and then nodded +assentingly to my proposal. + +My heart beat like a sledge-hammer as I set out walking rapidly in the +direction of the smoke; and, though up to that moment I had felt chill +and shivering, I was suddenly conscious of a glow of heat over all my +body. The ground in this direction was very uneven; a hundred men might +have lain hidden in as many square yards about my path. But I had not +practised the business in vain, chose such routes as cut at the very +root of concealment, and, by keeping along the most convenient ridges, +commanded several hollows at a time. It was not long before I was +rewarded for my caution. Coming suddenly on to a mound somewhat more +elevated than the surrounding hummocks, I saw, not thirty yards away, a +man bent almost double, and running as fast as his attitude permitted, +along the bottom of a gully. I had dislodged one of the spies from his +ambush. As soon as I sighted him, I called loudly both in English and +Italian; and he, seeing concealment was no longer possible, +straightened himself out, leaped from the gully, and made off as +straight as an arrow for the borders of the wood. + +It was none of my business to pursue; I had learned what I wanted—that +we were beleaguered and watched in the pavilion; and I returned at +once, and walking as nearly as possible in my old footsteps, to where +Northmour awaited me beside the despatch-box. He was even paler than +when I had left him, and his voice shook a little. + +“Could you see what he was like?” he asked. + +“He kept his back turned,” I replied. + +“Let us get into the house, Frank. I don’t think I’m a coward, but I +can stand no more of this,” he whispered. + +All was still and sunshiny about the pavilion as we turned to re-enter +it; even the gulls had flown in a wider circuit, and were seen +flickering along the beach and sand-hills; and this loneliness +terrified me more than a regiment under arms. It was not until the door +was barricaded that I could draw a full inspiration and relieve the +weight that lay upon my bosom. Northmour and I exchanged a steady +glance; and I suppose each made his own reflections on the white and +startled aspect of the other. + +“You were right,” I said. “All is over. Shake hands, old man, for the +last time.” + +“Yes,” replied he, “I will shake hands; for, as sure as I am here, I +bear no malice. But, remember, if, by some impossible accident, we +should give the slip to these blackguards, I’ll take the upper hand of +you by fair or foul.” + +“Oh,” said I, “you weary me!” + +He seemed hurt, and walked away in silence to the foot of the stairs, +where he paused. + +“You do not understand,” said he. “I am not a swindler, and I guard +myself; that is all. It may weary you or not, Mr. Cassilis, I do not +care a rush; I speak for my own satisfaction, and not for your +amusement. You had better go upstairs and court the girl; for my part, +I stay here.” + +“And I stay with you,” I returned. “Do you think I would steal a march, +even with your permission?” + +“Frank,” he said, smiling, “it’s a pity you are an ass, for you have +the makings of a man. I think I must be _fey_ to-day; you cannot +irritate me even when you try. Do you know,” he continued softly, “I +think we are the two most miserable men in England, you and I? we have +got on to thirty without wife or child, or so much as a shop to look +after—poor, pitiful, lost devils, both! And now we clash about a girl! +As if there were not several millions in the United Kingdom! Ah, Frank, +Frank, the one who loses this throw, be it you or me, he has my pity! +It were better for him—how does the Bible say?—that a millstone were +hanged about his neck and he were cast into the depth of the sea. Let +us take a drink,” he concluded suddenly, but without any levity of +tone. + +I was touched by his words, and consented. He sat down on the table in +the dining-room, and held up the glass of sherry to his eye. + +“If you beat me, Frank,” he said, “I shall take to drink. What will you +do, if it goes the other way?” + +“God knows,” I returned. + +“Well,” said he, “here is a toast in the meantime: ‘_Italia +irredenta_!’” + +The remainder of the day was passed in the same dreadful tedium and +suspense. I laid the table for dinner, while Northmour and Clara +prepared the meal together in the kitchen. I could hear their talk as I +went to and fro, and was surprised to find it ran all the time upon +myself. Northmour again bracketed us together, and rallied Clara on a +choice of husbands; but he continued to speak of me with some feeling, +and uttered nothing to my prejudice unless he included himself in the +condemnation. This awakened a sense of gratitude in my heart, which +combined with the immediateness of our peril to fill my eyes with +tears. After all, I thought—and perhaps the thought was laughably +vain—we were here three very noble human beings to perish in defence of +a thieving banker. + +Before we sat down to table, I looked forth from an upstairs window. +The day was beginning to decline; the links were utterly deserted; the +despatch-box still lay untouched where we had left it hours before. + +Mr. Huddlestone, in a long yellow dressing-gown, took one end of the +table, Clara the other; while Northmour and I faced each other from the +sides. The lamp was brightly trimmed; the wine was good; the viands, +although mostly cold, excellent of their sort. We seemed to have agreed +tacitly; all reference to the impending catastrophe was carefully +avoided; and, considering our tragic circumstances, we made a merrier +party than could have been expected. From time to time, it is true, +Northmour or I would rise from table and make a round of the defences; +and, on each of these occasions, Mr. Huddlestone was recalled to a +sense of his tragic predicament, glanced up with ghastly eyes, and bore +for an instant on his countenance the stamp of terror. But he hastened +to empty his glass, wiped his forehead with his handkerchief, and +joined again in the conversation. + +I was astonished at the wit and information he displayed. Mr. +Huddlestone’s was certainly no ordinary character; he had read and +observed for himself; his gifts were sound; and, though I could never +have learned to love the man, I began to understand his success in +business, and the great respect in which he had been held before his +failure. He had, above all, the talent of society; and though I never +heard him speak but on this one and most unfavourable occasion, I set +him down among the most brilliant conversationalists I ever met. + +He was relating with great gusto, and seemingly no feeling of shame, +the manœuvres of a scoundrelly commission merchant whom he had known +and studied in his youth, and we were all listening with an odd mixture +of mirth and embarrassment when our little party was brought abruptly +to an end in the most startling manner. + +A noise like that of a wet finger on the window-pane interrupted Mr. +Huddlestone’s tale; and in an instant we were all four as white as +paper, and sat tongue-tied and motionless round the table. + +“A snail,” I said at last; for I had heard that these animals make a +noise somewhat similar in character. + +“Snail be d—d!” said Northmour. “Hush!” + +The same sound was repeated twice at regular intervals; and then a +formidable voice shouted through the shutters the Italian word +“_Traditore_!” + +Mr. Huddlestone threw his head in the air; his eyelids quivered; next +moment he fell insensible below the table. Northmour and I had each run +to the armoury and seized a gun. Clara was on her feet with her hand at +her throat. + +So we stood waiting, for we thought the hour of attack was certainly +come; but second passed after second, and all but the surf remained +silent in the neighbourhood of the pavilion. + +“Quick,” said Northmour; “upstairs with him before they come.” + + + + +CHAPTER VIII +TELLS THE LAST OF THE TALL MAN + + +Somehow or other, by hook and crook, and between the three of us, we +got Bernard Huddlestone bundled upstairs and laid upon the bed in _My +Uncle’s Room_. During the whole process, which was rough enough, he +gave no sign of consciousness, and he remained, as we had thrown him, +without changing the position of a finger. His daughter opened his +shirt and began to wet his head and bosom; while Northmour and I ran to +the window. The weather continued clear; the moon, which was now about +full, had risen and shed a very clear light upon the links; yet, strain +our eyes as we might, we could distinguish nothing moving. A few dark +spots, more or less, on the uneven expanse were not to be identified; +they might be crouching men, they might be shadows; it was impossible +to be sure. + +“Thank God,” said Northmour, “Aggie is not coming to-night.” + +Aggie was the name of the old nurse; he had not thought of her till +now; but that he should think of her at all, was a trait that surprised +me in the man. + +We were again reduced to waiting. Northmour went to the fireplace and +spread his hands before the red embers, as if he were cold. I followed +him mechanically with my eyes, and in so doing turned my back upon the +window. At that moment a very faint report was audible from without, +and a ball shivered a pane of glass, and buried itself in the shutter +two inches from my head. I heard Clara scream; and though I whipped +instantly out of range and into a corner, she was there, so to speak, +before me, beseeching to know if I were hurt. I felt that I could stand +to be shot at every day and all day long, with such marks of solicitude +for a reward; and I continued to reassure her, with the tenderest +caresses and in complete forgetfulness of our situation, till the voice +of Northmour recalled me to myself. + +“An air-gun,” he said. “They wish to make no noise.” + +I put Clara aside, and looked at him. He was standing with his back to +the fire and his hands clasped behind him; and I knew by the black look +on his face, that passion was boiling within. I had seen just such a +look before he attacked me, that March night, in the adjoining chamber; +and, though I could make every allowance for his anger, I confess I +trembled for the consequences. He gazed straight before him; but he +could see us with the tail of his eye, and his temper kept rising like +a gale of wind. With regular battle awaiting us outside, this prospect +of an internecine strife within the walls began to daunt me. + +Suddenly, as I was thus closely watching his expression and prepared +against the worst, I saw a change, a flash, a look of relief, upon his +face. He took up the lamp which stood beside him on the table, and +turned to us with an air of some excitement. + +“There is one point that we must know,” said he. “Are they going to +butcher the lot of us, or only Huddlestone? Did they take you for him, +or fire at you for your own _beaux yeux_?” + +“They took me for him, for certain,” I replied. “I am near as tall, and +my head is fair.” + +“I am going to make sure,” returned Northmour; and he stepped up to the +window, holding the lamp above his head, and stood there, quietly +affronting death, for half a minute. + +Clara sought to rush forward and pull him from the place of danger; but +I had the pardonable selfishness to hold her back by force. + +“Yes,” said Northmour, turning coolly from the window; “it’s only +Huddlestone they want.” + +“Oh, Mr. Northmour!” cried Clara; but found no more to add; the +temerity she had just witnessed seeming beyond the reach of words. + +He, on his part, looked at me, cocking his head, with a fire of triumph +in his eyes; and I understood at once that he had thus hazarded his +life, merely to attract Clara’s notice, and depose me from my position +as the hero of the hour. He snapped his fingers. + +“The fire is only beginning,” said he. “When they warm up to their +work, they won’t be so particular.” + +A voice was now heard hailing us from the entrance. From the window we +could see the figure of a man in the moonlight; he stood motionless, +his face uplifted to ours, and a rag of something white on his extended +arm; and as we looked right down upon him, though he was a good many +yards distant on the links, we could see the moonlight glitter on his +eyes. + +He opened his lips again, and spoke for some minutes on end, in a key +so loud that he might have been heard in every corner of the pavilion, +and as far away as the borders of the wood. It was the same voice that +had already shouted “_Traditore_!” through the shutters of the +dining-room; this time it made a complete and clear statement. If the +traitor “Oddlestone” were given up, all others should be spared; if +not, no one should escape to tell the tale. + +“Well, Huddlestone, what do you say to that?” asked Northmour, turning +to the bed. + +Up to that moment the banker had given no sign of life, and I, at +least, had supposed him to be still lying in a faint; but he replied at +once, and in such tones as I have never heard elsewhere, save from a +delirious patient, adjured and besought us not to desert him. It was +the most hideous and abject performance that my imagination can +conceive. + +“Enough,” cried Northmour; and then he threw open the window, leaned +out into the night, and in a tone of exultation, and with a total +forgetfulness of what was due to the presence of a lady, poured out +upon the ambassador a string of the most abominable raillery both in +English and Italian, and bade him be gone where he had come from. I +believe that nothing so delighted Northmour at that moment as the +thought that we must all infallibly perish before the night was out. + +Meantime the Italian put his flag of truce into his pocket, and +disappeared, at a leisurely pace, among the sand-hills. + +“They make honourable war,” said Northmour. “They are all gentlemen and +soldiers. For the credit of the thing, I wish we could change sides—you +and I, Frank, and you too, Missy, my darling—and leave that being on +the bed to some one else. Tut! Don’t look shocked! We are all going +post to what they call eternity, and may as well be above-board while +there’s time. As far as I’m concerned, if I could first strangle +Huddlestone and then get Clara in my arms, I could die with some pride +and satisfaction. And as it is, by God, I’ll have a kiss!” + +Before I could do anything to interfere, he had rudely embraced and +repeatedly kissed the resisting girl. Next moment I had pulled him away +with fury, and flung him heavily against the wall. He laughed loud and +long, and I feared his wits had given way under the strain; for even in +the best of days he had been a sparing and a quiet laugher. + +“Now, Frank,” said he, when his mirth was somewhat appeased, “it’s your +turn. Here’s my hand. Good-bye; farewell!” Then, seeing me stand rigid +and indignant, and holding Clara to my side—“Man!” he broke out, “are +you angry? Did you think we were going to die with all the airs and +graces of society? I took a kiss; I’m glad I had it; and now you can +take another if you like, and square accounts.” + +I turned from him with a feeling of contempt which I did not seek to +dissemble. + +“As you please,” said he. “You’ve been a prig in life; a prig you’ll +die.” + +And with that he sat down in a chair, a rifle over his knee, and amused +himself with snapping the lock; but I could see that his ebullition of +light spirits (the only one I ever knew him to display) had already +come to an end, and was succeeded by a sullen, scowling humour. + +All this time our assailants might have been entering the house, and we +been none the wiser; we had in truth almost forgotten the danger that +so imminently overhung our days. But just then Mr. Huddlestone uttered +a cry, and leaped from the bed. + +I asked him what was wrong. + +“Fire!” he cried. “They have set the house on fire!” + +Northmour was on his feet in an instant, and he and I ran through the +door of communication with the study. The room was illuminated by a red +and angry light. Almost at the moment of our entrance, a tower of flame +arose in front of the window, and, with a tingling report, a pane fell +inwards on the carpet. They had set fire to the lean-to outhouse, where +Northmour used to nurse his negatives. + +“Hot work,” said Northmour. “Let us try in your old room.” + +We ran thither in a breath, threw up the casement, and looked forth. +Along the whole back wall of the pavilion piles of fuel had been +arranged and kindled; and it is probable they had been drenched with +mineral oil, for, in spite of the morning’s rain, they all burned +bravely. The fire had taken a firm hold already on the outhouse, which +blazed higher and higher every moment; the back door was in the centre +of a red-hot bonfire; the eaves we could see, as we looked upward, were +already smouldering, for the roof overhung, and was supported by +considerable beams of wood. At the same time, hot, pungent, and choking +volumes of smoke began to fill the house. There was not a human being +to be seen to right or left. + +“Ah, well!” said Northmour, “here’s the end, thank God.” + +And we returned to _My Uncle’s Room_. Mr. Huddlestone was putting on +his boots, still violently trembling, but with an air of determination +such as I had not hitherto observed. Clara stood close by him, with her +cloak in both hands ready to throw about her shoulders, and a strange +look in her eyes, as if she were half hopeful, half doubtful of her +father. + +“Well, boys and girls,” said Northmour, “how about a sally? The oven is +heating; it is not good to stay here and be baked; and, for my part, I +want to come to my hands with them, and be done.” + +“There is nothing else left,” I replied. + +And both Clara and Mr. Huddlestone, though with a very different +intonation, added, “Nothing.” + +As we went downstairs the heat was excessive, and the roaring of the +fire filled our ears; and we had scarce reached the passage before the +stairs window fell in, a branch of flame shot brandishing through the +aperture, and the interior of the pavilion became lit up with that +dreadful and fluctuating glare. At the same moment we heard the fall of +something heavy and inelastic in the upper story. The whole pavilion, +it was plain, had gone alight like a box of matches, and now not only +flamed sky-high to land and sea, but threatened with every moment to +crumble and fall in about our ears. + +Northmour and I cocked our revolvers. Mr. Huddlestone, who had already +refused a firearm, put us behind him with a manner of command. + +“Let Clara open the door,” said he. “So, if they fire a volley, she +will be protected. And in the meantime stand behind me. I am the +scapegoat; my sins have found me out.” + +I heard him, as I stood breathless by his shoulder, with my pistol +ready, pattering off prayers in a tremulous, rapid whisper; and I +confess, horrid as the thought may seem, I despised him for thinking of +supplications in a moment so critical and thrilling. In the meantime, +Clara, who was dead white but still possessed her faculties, had +displaced the barricade from the front door. Another moment, and she +had pulled it open. Firelight and moonlight illuminated the links with +confused and changeful lustre, and far away against the sky we could +see a long trail of glowing smoke. + +Mr. Huddlestone, filled for the moment with a strength greater than his +own, struck Northmour and myself a back-hander in the chest; and while +we were thus for the moment incapacitated from action, lifting his arms +above his head like one about to dive, he ran straight forward out of +the pavilion. + +“Here am I!” he cried—“Huddlestone! Kill me, and spare the others!” + +His sudden appearance daunted, I suppose, our hidden enemies; for +Northmour and I had time to recover, to seize Clara between us, one by +each arm, and to rush forth to his assistance, ere anything further had +taken place. But scarce had we passed the threshold when there came +near a dozen reports and flashes from every direction among the hollows +of the links. Mr. Huddlestone staggered, uttered a weird and freezing +cry, threw up his arms over his head, and fell backward on the turf. + +“_Traditore_! _Traditore_!” cried the invisible avengers. + +And just then, a part of the roof of the pavilion fell in, so rapid was +the progress of the fire. A loud, vague, and horrible noise accompanied +the collapse, and a vast volume of flame went soaring up to heaven. It +must have been visible at that moment from twenty miles out at sea, +from the shore at Graden Wester, and far inland from the peak of +Graystiel, the most eastern summit of the Caulder Hills. Bernard +Huddlestone, although God knows what were his obsequies, had a fine +pyre at the moment of his death. + + + + +CHAPTER IX +TELLS HOW NORTHMOUR CARRIED OUT HIS THREAT + + +I should have the greatest difficulty to tell you what followed next +after this tragic circumstance. It is all to me, as I look back upon +it, mixed, strenuous, and ineffectual, like the struggles of a sleeper +in a nightmare. Clara, I remember, uttered a broken sigh and would have +fallen forward to earth, had not Northmour and I supported her +insensible body. I do not think we were attacked; I do not remember +even to have seen an assailant; and I believe we deserted Mr. +Huddlestone without a glance. I only remember running like a man in a +panic, now carrying Clara altogether in my own arms, now sharing her +weight with Northmour, now scuffling confusedly for the possession of +that dear burden. Why we should have made for my camp in the Hemlock +Den, or how we reached it, are points lost for ever to my recollection. +The first moment at which I became definitely sure, Clara had been +suffered to fall against the outside of my little tent, Northmour and I +were tumbling together on the ground, and he, with contained ferocity, +was striking for my head with the butt of his revolver. He had already +twice wounded me on the scalp; and it is to the consequent loss of +blood that I am tempted to attribute the sudden clearness of my mind. + +I caught him by the wrist. + +“Northmour,” I remember saying, “you can kill me afterwards. Let us +first attend to Clara.” + +He was at that moment uppermost. Scarcely had the words passed my lips, +when he had leaped to his feet and ran towards the tent; and the next +moment, he was straining Clara to his heart and covering her +unconscious hands and face with his caresses. + +“Shame!” I cried. “Shame to you, Northmour!” + +And, giddy though I still was, I struck him repeatedly upon the head +and shoulders. + +He relinquished his grasp, and faced me in the broken moonlight. + +“I had you under, and I let you go,” said he; “and now you strike me! +Coward!” + +“You are the coward,” I retorted. “Did she wish your kisses while she +was still sensible of what she wanted? Not she! And now she may be +dying; and you waste this precious time, and abuse her helplessness. +Stand aside, and let me help her.” + +He confronted me for a moment, white and menacing; then suddenly he +stepped aside. + +“Help her then,” said he. + +I threw myself on my knees beside her, and loosened, as well as I was +able, her dress and corset; but while I was thus engaged, a grasp +descended on my shoulder. + +“Keep your hands off her,” said Northmour fiercely. “Do you think I +have no blood in my veins?” + +“Northmour,” I cried, “if you will neither help her yourself, nor let +me do so, do you know that I shall have to kill you?” + +“That is better!” he cried. “Let her die also, where’s the harm? Step +aside from that girl! and stand up to fight” + +“You will observe,” said I, half rising, “that I have not kissed her +yet.” + +“I dare you to,” he cried. + +I do not know what possessed me; it was one of the things I am most +ashamed of in my life, though, as my wife used to say, I knew that my +kisses would be always welcome were she dead or living; down I fell +again upon my knees, parted the hair from her forehead, and, with the +dearest respect, laid my lips for a moment on that cold brow. It was +such a caress as a father might have given; it was such a one as was +not unbecoming from a man soon to die to a woman already dead. + +“And now,” said I, “I am at your service, Mr. Northmour.” + +But I saw, to my surprise, that he had turned his back upon me. + +“Do you hear?” I asked. + +“Yes,” said he, “I do. If you wish to fight, I am ready. If not, go on +and save Clara. All is one to me.” + +I did not wait to be twice bidden; but, stooping again over Clara, +continued my efforts to revive her. She still lay white and lifeless; I +began to fear that her sweet spirit had indeed fled beyond recall, and +horror and a sense of utter desolation seized upon my heart. I called +her by name with the most endearing inflections; I chafed and beat her +hands; now I laid her head low, now supported it against my knee; but +all seemed to be in vain, and the lids still lay heavy on her eyes. + +“Northmour,” I said, “there is my hat. For God’s sake bring some water +from the spring.” + +Almost in a moment he was by my side with the water. “I have brought it +in my own,” he said. “You do not grudge me the privilege?” + +“Northmour,” I was beginning to say, as I laved her head and breast; +but he interrupted me savagely. + +“Oh, you hush up!” he said. “The best thing you can do is to say +nothing.” + +I had certainly no desire to talk, my mind being swallowed up in +concern for my dear love and her condition; so I continued in silence +to do my best towards her recovery, and, when the hat was empty, +returned it to him, with one word—“More.” He had, perhaps, gone several +times upon this errand, when Clara reopened her eyes. + +“Now,” said he, “since she is better, you can spare me, can you not? I +wish you a good night, Mr. Cassilis.” + +And with that he was gone among the thicket. I made a fire, for I had +now no fear of the Italians, who had even spared all the little +possessions left in my encampment; and, broken as she was by the +excitement and the hideous catastrophe of the evening, I managed, in +one way or another—by persuasion, encouragement, warmth, and such +simple remedies as I could lay my hand on—to bring her back to some +composure of mind and strength of body. + +Day had already come, when a sharp “Hist!” sounded from the thicket. I +started from the ground; but the voice of Northmour was heard adding, +in the most tranquil tones: “Come here, Cassilis, and alone; I want to +show you something.” + +I consulted Clara with my eyes, and, receiving her tacit permission, +left her alone, and clambered out of the den. At some distance of I saw +Northmour leaning against an elder; and, as soon as he perceived me, he +began walking seaward. I had almost overtaken him as he reached the +outskirts of the wood. + +“Look,” said he, pausing. + +A couple of steps more brought me out of the foliage. The light of the +morning lay cold and clear over that well-known scene. The pavilion was +but a blackened wreck; the roof had fallen in, one of the gables had +fallen out; and, far and near, the face of the links was cicatrised +with little patches of burnt furze. Thick smoke still went straight +upwards in the windless air of the morning, and a great pile of ardent +cinders filled the bare walls of the house, like coals in an open +grate. Close by the islet a schooner yacht lay to, and a well-manned +boat was pulling vigorously for the shore. + +“The _Red Earl_!” I cried. “The _Red Earl_ twelve hours too late!” + +“Feel in your pocket, Frank. Are you armed?” asked Northmour. + +I obeyed him, and I think I must have become deadly pale. My revolver +had been taken from me. + +“You see I have you in my power,” he continued. “I disarmed you last +night while you were nursing Clara; but this morning—here—take your +pistol. No thanks!” he cried, holding up his hand. “I do not like them; +that is the only way you can annoy me now.” + +He began to walk forward across the links to meet the boat, and I +followed a step or two behind. In front of the pavilion I paused to see +where Mr. Huddlestone had fallen; but there was no sign of him, nor so +much as a trace of blood. + +“Graden Floe,” said Northmour. + +He continued to advance till we had come to the head of the beach. + +“No farther, please,” said he. “Would you like to take her to Graden +House?” + +“Thank you,” replied I; “I shall try to get her to the minister’s at +Graden Wester.” + +The prow of the boat here grated on the beach, and a sailor jumped +ashore with a line in his hand. + +“Wait a minute, lads!” cried Northmour; and then lower and to my +private ear: “You had better say nothing of all this to her,” he added. + +“On the contrary!” I broke out, “she shall know everything that I can +tell.” + +“You do not understand,” he returned, with an air of great dignity. “It +will be nothing to her; she expects it of me. Good-bye!” he added, with +a nod. + +I offered him my hand. + +“Excuse me,” said he. “It’s small, I know; but I can’t push things +quite so far as that. I don’t wish any sentimental business, to sit by +your hearth a white-haired wanderer, and all that. Quite the contrary: +I hope to God I shall never again clap eyes on either one of you.” + +“Well, God bless you, Northmour!” I said heartily. + +“Oh, yes,” he returned. + +He walked down the beach; and the man who was ashore gave him an arm on +board, and then shoved off and leaped into the bows himself. Northmour +took the tiller; the boat rose to the waves, and the oars between the +thole-pins sounded crisp and measured in the morning air. + +They were not yet half-way to the _Red Earl_, and I was still watching +their progress, when the sun rose out of the sea. + +One word more, and my story is done. Years after, Northmour was killed +fighting under the colours of Garibaldi for the liberation of the +Tyrol. + + + + +A LODGING FOR THE NIGHT +A STORY OF FRANCIS VILLON + + +It was late in November 1456. The snow fell over Paris with rigorous, +relentless persistence; sometimes the wind made a sally and scattered +it in flying vortices; sometimes there was a lull, and flake after +flake descended out of the black night air, silent, circuitous, +interminable. To poor people, looking up under moist eyebrows, it +seemed a wonder where it all came from. Master Francis Villon had +propounded an alternative that afternoon, at a tavern window: was it +only Pagan Jupiter plucking geese upon Olympus? or were the holy angels +moulting? He was only a poor Master of Arts, he went on; and as the +question somewhat touched upon divinity, he durst not venture to +conclude. A silly old priest from Montargis, who was among the company, +treated the young rascal to a bottle of wine in honour of the jest and +the grimaces with which it was accompanied, and swore on his own white +beard that he had been just such another irreverent dog when he was +Villon’s age. + +The air was raw and pointed, but not far below freezing; and the flakes +were large, damp, and adhesive. The whole city was sheeted up. An army +might have marched from end to end and not a footfall given the alarm. +If there were any belated birds in heaven, they saw the island like a +large white patch, and the bridges like slim white spars, on the black +ground of the river. High up overhead the snow settled among the +tracery of the cathedral towers. Many a niche was drifted full; many a +statue wore a long white bonnet on its grotesque or sainted head. The +gargoyles had been transformed into great false noses, drooping towards +the point. The crockets were like upright pillows swollen on one side. +In the intervals of the wind, there was a dull sound of dripping about +the precincts of the church. + +The cemetery of St. John had taken its own share of the snow. All the +graves were decently covered; tall white housetops stood around in +grave array; worthy burghers were long ago in bed, benightcapped like +their domiciles; there was no light in all the neighbourhood but a +little peep from a lamp that hung swinging in the church choir, and +tossed the shadows to and fro in time to its oscillations. The clock +was hard on ten when the patrol went by with halberds and a lantern, +beating their hands; and they saw nothing suspicious about the cemetery +of St. John. + +Yet there was a small house, backed up against the cemetery wall, which +was still awake, and awake to evil purpose, in that snoring district. +There was not much to betray it from without; only a stream of warm +vapour from the chimney-top, a patch where the snow melted on the roof, +and a few half-obliterated footprints at the door. But within, behind +the shuttered windows, Master Francis Villon the poet, and some of the +thievish crew with whom he consorted, were keeping the night alive and +passing round the bottle. + +A great pile of living embers diffused a strong and ruddy glow from the +arched chimney. Before this straddled Dom Nicolas, the Picardy monk, +with his skirts picked up and his fat legs bared to the comfortable +warmth. His dilated shadow cut the room in half; and the firelight only +escaped on either side of his broad person, and in a little pool +between his outspread feet. His face had the beery, bruised appearance +of the continual drinker’s; it was covered with a network of congested +veins, purple in ordinary circumstances, but now pale violet, for even +with his back to the fire the cold pinched him on the other side. His +cowl had half fallen back, and made a strange excrescence on either +side of his bull neck. So he straddled, grumbling, and cut the room in +half with the shadow of his portly frame. + +On the right, Villon and Guy Tabary were huddled together over a scrap +of parchment; Villon making a ballade which he was to call the “Ballade +of Roast Fish,” and Tabary spluttering admiration at his shoulder. The +poet was a rag of a man, dark, little, and lean, with hollow cheeks and +thin black locks. He carried his four-and-twenty years with feverish +animation. Greed had made folds about his eyes, evil smiles had +puckered his mouth. The wolf and pig struggled together in his face. It +was an eloquent, sharp, ugly, earthly countenance. His hands were small +and prehensile, with fingers knotted like a cord; and they were +continually flickering in front of him in violent and expressive +pantomime. As for Tabary, a broad, complacent, admiring imbecility +breathed from his squash nose and slobbering lips: he had become a +thief, just as he might have become the most decent of burgesses, by +the imperious chance that rules the lives of human geese and human +donkeys. + +At the monk’s other hand, Montigny and Thevenin Pensete played a game +of chance. About the first there clung some flavour of good birth and +training, as about a fallen angel; something long, lithe, and courtly +in the person; something aquiline and darkling in the face. Thevenin, +poor soul, was in great feather: he had done a good stroke of knavery +that afternoon in the Faubourg St. Jacques, and all night he had been +gaining from Montigny. A flat smile illuminated his face; his bald head +shone rosily in a garland of red curls; his little protuberant stomach +shook with silent chucklings as he swept in his gains. + +“Doubles or quits?” said Thevenin. Montigny nodded grimly. + +“_Some may prefer to dine in state_,” wrote Villon, “_On bread and +cheese on silver plate_. Or—or—help me out, Guido!” + +Tabary giggled. + +“_Or parsley on a golden dish_,” scribbled the poet. + +The wind was freshening without; it drove the snow before it, and +sometimes raised its voice in a victorious whoop, and made sepulchral +grumblings in the chimney. The cold was growing sharper as the night +went on. Villon, protruding his lips, imitated the gust with something +between a whistle and a groan. It was an eerie, uncomfortable talent of +the poet’s, much detested by the Picardy monk. + +“Can’t you hear it rattle in the gibbet?” said Villon. “They are all +dancing the devil’s jig on nothing, up there. You may dance, my +gallants, you’ll be none the warmer! Whew! what a gust! Down went +somebody just now! A medlar the fewer on the three-legged +medlar-tree!—I say, Dom Nicolas, it’ll be cold to-night on the St. +Denis Road?” he asked. + +Dom Nicolas winked both his big eyes, and seemed to choke upon his +Adam’s apple. Montfaucon, the great grisly Paris gibbet, stood hard by +the St. Denis Road, and the pleasantry touched him on the raw. As for +Tabary, he laughed immoderately over the medlars; he had never heard +anything more light-hearted; and he held his sides and crowed. Villon +fetched him a fillip on the nose, which turned his mirth into an attack +of coughing. + +“Oh, stop that row,” said Villon, “and think of rhymes to ‘fish’.” + +“Doubles or quits,” said Montigny doggedly. + +“With all my heart,” quoth Thevenin. + +“Is there any more in that bottle?” asked the monk. + +“Open another,” said Villon. “How do you ever hope to fill that big +hogshead, your body, with little things like bottles? And how do you +expect to get to heaven? How many angels, do you fancy, can be spared +to carry up a single monk from Picardy? Or do you think yourself +another Elias—and they’ll send the coach for you?” + +“_Hominibus impossibile_,” replied the monk, as he filled his glass. + +Tabary was in ecstasies. + +Villon filliped his nose again. + +“Laugh at my jokes, if you like,” he said. + +“It was very good,” objected Tabary. + +Villon made a face at him. “Think of rhymes to ‘fish’,” he said. “What +have you to do with Latin? You’ll wish you knew none of it at the great +assizes, when the devil calls for Guido Tabary, clericus—the devil with +the hump-back and red-hot finger-nails. Talking of the devil,” he added +in a whisper, “look at Montigny!” + +All three peered covertly at the gamester. He did not seem to be +enjoying his luck. His mouth was a little to a side; one nostril nearly +shut, and the other much inflated. The black dog was on his back, as +people say, in terrifying nursery metaphor; and he breathed hard under +the gruesome burden. + +“He looks as if he could knife him,” whispered Tabary, with round eyes. + +The monk shuddered, and turned his face and spread his open hands to +the red embers. It was the cold that thus affected Dom Nicolas, and not +any excess of moral sensibility. + +“Come now,” said Villon—“about this ballade. How does it run so far?” +And beating time with his hand, he read it aloud to Tabary. + +They were interrupted at the fourth rhyme by a brief and fatal movement +among the gamesters. The round was completed, and Thevenin was just +opening his mouth to claim another victory, when Montigny leaped up, +swift as an adder, and stabbed him to the heart. The blow took effect +before he had time to utter a cry, before he had time to move. A tremor +or two convulsed his frame; his hands opened and shut, his heels +rattled on the floor; then his head rolled backward over one shoulder +with the eyes wide open; and Thevenin Pensete’s spirit had returned to +Him who made it. + +Everyone sprang to his feet; but the business was over in two twos. The +four living fellows looked at each other in rather a ghastly fashion; +the dead man contemplating a corner of the roof with a singular and +ugly leer. + +“My God!” said Tabary; and he began to pray in Latin. + +Villon broke out into hysterical laughter. He came a step forward and +ducked a ridiculous bow at Thevenin, and laughed still louder. Then he +sat down suddenly, all of a heap, upon a stool, and continued laughing +bitterly as though he would shake himself to pieces. + +Montigny recovered his composure first. + +“Let’s see what he has about him,” he remarked; and he picked the dead +man’s pockets with a practised hand, and divided the money into four +equal portions on the table. “There’s for you,” he said. + +The monk received his share with a deep sigh, and a single stealthy +glance at the dead Thevenin, who was beginning to sink into himself and +topple sideways of the chair. + +“We’re all in for it,” cried Villon, swallowing his mirth. “It’s a +hanging job for every man jack of us that’s here—not to speak of those +who aren’t.” He made a shocking gesture in the air with his raised +right hand, and put out his tongue and threw his head on one side, so +as to counterfeit the appearance of one who has been hanged. Then he +pocketed his share of the spoil, and executed a shuffle with his feet +as if to restore the circulation. + +Tabary was the last to help himself; he made a dash at the money, and +retired to the other end of the apartment. + +Montigny stuck Thevenin upright in the chair, and drew out the dagger, +which was followed by a jet of blood. + +“You fellows had better be moving,” he said, as he wiped the blade on +his victim’s doublet. + +“I think we had,” returned Villon with a gulp. “Damn his fat head!” he +broke out. “It sticks in my throat like phlegm. What right has a man to +have red hair when he is dead?” And he fell all of a heap again upon +the stool, and fairly covered his face with his hands. + +Montigny and Dom Nicolas laughed aloud, even Tabary feebly chiming in. + +“Cry baby,” said the monk. + +“I always said he was a woman,” added Montigny with a sneer. “Sit up, +can’t you?” he went on, giving another shake to the murdered body. +“Tread out that fire, Nick!” + +But Nick was better employed; he was quietly taking Villon’s purse, as +the poet sat, limp and trembling, on the stool where he had been making +a ballade not three minutes before. Montigny and Tabary dumbly demanded +a share of the booty, which the monk silently promised as he passed the +little bag into the bosom of his gown. In many ways an artistic nature +unfits a man for practical existence. + +No sooner had the theft been accomplished than Villon shook himself, +jumped to his feet, and began helping to scatter and extinguish the +embers. Meanwhile Montigny opened the door and cautiously peered into +the street. The coast was clear; there was no meddlesome patrol in +sight. Still it was judged wiser to slip out severally; and as Villon +was himself in a hurry to escape from the neighbourhood of the dead +Thevenin, and the rest were in a still greater hurry to get rid of him +before he should discover the loss of his money, he was the first by +general consent to issue forth into the street. + +The wind had triumphed and swept all the clouds from heaven. Only a few +vapours, as thin as moonlight, fleeting rapidly across the stars. It +was bitter cold; and by a common optical effect, things seemed almost +more definite than in the broadest daylight. The sleeping city was +absolutely still: a company of white hoods, a field full of little +Alps, below the twinkling stars. Villon cursed his fortune. Would it +were still snowing! Now, wherever he went, he left an indelible trail +behind him on the glittering streets; wherever he went he was still +tethered to the house by the cemetery of St. John; wherever he went he +must weave, with his own plodding feet, the rope that bound him to the +crime and would bind him to the gallows. The leer of the dead man came +back to him with a new significance. He snapped his fingers as if to +pluck up his own spirits, and choosing a street at random, stepped +boldly forward in the snow. + +Two things preoccupied him as he went: the aspect of the gallows at +Montfaucon in this bright windy phase of the night’s existence, for +one; and for another, the look of the dead man with his bald head and +garland of red curls. Both struck cold upon his heart, and he kept +quickening his pace as if he could escape from unpleasant thoughts by +mere fleetness of foot. Sometimes he looked back over his shoulder with +a sudden nervous jerk; but he was the only moving thing in the white +streets, except when the wind swooped round a corner and threw up the +snow, which was beginning to freeze, in spouts of glittering dust. + +Suddenly he saw, a long way before him, a black clump and a couple of +lanterns. The clump was in motion, and the lanterns swung as though +carried by men walking. It was a patrol. And though it was merely +crossing his line of march, he judged it wiser to get out of eyeshot as +speedily as he could. He was not in the humour to be challenged, and he +was conscious of making a very conspicuous mark upon the snow. Just on +his left hand there stood a great hotel, with some turrets and a large +porch before the door; it was half-ruinous, he remembered, and had long +stood empty; and so he made three steps of it and jumped into the +shelter of the porch. It was pretty dark inside, after the glimmer of +the snowy streets, and he was groping forward with outspread hands, +when he stumbled over some substance which offered an indescribable +mixture of resistances, hard and soft, firm and loose. His heart gave a +leap, and he sprang two steps back and stared dreadfully at the +obstacle. Then he gave a little laugh of relief. It was only a woman, +and she dead. He knelt beside her to make sure upon this latter point. +She was freezing cold, and rigid like a stick. A little ragged finery +fluttered in the wind about her hair, and her cheeks had been heavily +rouged that same afternoon. Her pockets were quite empty; but in her +stocking, underneath the garter, Villon found two of the small coins +that went by the name of whites. It was little enough; but it was +always something; and the poet was moved with a deep sense of pathos +that she should have died before she had spent her money. That seemed +to him a dark and pitiable mystery; and he looked from the coins in his +hand to the dead woman, and back again to the coins, shaking his head +over the riddle of man’s life. Henry V. of England, dying at Vincennes +just after he had conquered France, and this poor jade cut off by a +cold draught in a great man’s doorway, before she had time to spend her +couple of whites—it seemed a cruel way to carry on the world. Two +whites would have taken such a little while to squander; and yet it +would have been one more good taste in the mouth, one more smack of the +lips, before the devil got the soul, and the body was left to birds and +vermin. He would like to use all his tallow before the light was blown +out and the lantern broken. + +While these thoughts were passing through his mind, he was feeling, +half mechanically, for his purse. Suddenly his heart stopped beating; a +feeling of cold scales passed up the back of his legs, and a cold blow +seemed to fall upon his scalp. He stood petrified for a moment; then he +felt again with one feverish movement; and then his loss burst upon +him, and he was covered at once with perspiration. To spendthrifts +money is so living and actual—it is such a thin veil between them and +their pleasures! There is only one limit to their fortune—that of time; +and a spendthrift with only a few crowns is the Emperor of Rome until +they are spent. For such a person to lose his money is to suffer the +most shocking reverse, and fall from heaven to hell, from all to +nothing, in a breath. And all the more if he has put his head in the +halter for it; if he may be hanged to-morrow for that same purse, so +dearly earned, so foolishly departed! Villon stood and cursed; he threw +the two whites into the street; he shook his fist at heaven; he +stamped, and was not horrified to find himself trampling the poor +corpse. Then he began rapidly to retrace his steps towards the house +beside the cemetery. He had forgotten all fear of the patrol, which was +long gone by at any rate, and had no idea but that of his lost purse. +It was in vain that he looked right and left upon the snow: nothing was +to be seen. He had not dropped it in the streets. Had it fallen in the +house? He would have liked dearly to go in and see; but the idea of the +grisly occupant unmanned him. And he saw besides, as he drew near, that +their efforts to put out the fire had been unsuccessful; on the +contrary, it had broken into a blaze, and a changeful light played in +the chinks of door and window, and revived his terror for the +authorities and Paris gibbet. + +He returned to the hotel with the porch, and groped about upon the snow +for the money he had thrown away in his childish passion. But he could +only find one white; the other had probably struck sideways and sunk +deeply in. With a single white in his pocket, all his projects for a +rousing night in some wild tavern vanished utterly away. And it was not +only pleasure that fled laughing from his grasp; positive discomfort, +positive pain, attacked him as he stood ruefully before the porch. His +perspiration had dried upon him; and though the wind had now fallen, a +binding frost was setting in stronger with every hour, and be felt +benumbed and sick at heart. What was to be done? Late as was the hour, +improbable as was success, he would try the house of his adopted +father, the chaplain of St. Benoît. + +He ran there all the way, and knocked timidly. There was no answer. He +knocked again and again, taking heart with every stroke; and at last +steps were heard approaching from within. A barred wicket fell open in +the iron-studded door, and emitted a gush of yellow light. + +“Hold up your face to the wicket,” said the chaplain from within. + +“It’s only me,” whimpered Villon. + +“Oh, it’s only you, is it?” returned the chaplain; and he cursed him +with foul unpriestly oaths for disturbing him at such an hour, and bade +him be off to hell, where he came from. + +“My hands are blue to the wrist,” pleaded Villon; “my feet are dead and +full of twinges; my nose aches with the sharp air; the cold lies at my +heart. I may be dead before morning. Only this once, father, and before +God I will never ask again!” + +“You should have come earlier,” said the ecclesiastic coolly. “Young +men require a lesson now and then.” He shut the wicket and retired +deliberately into the interior of the house. + +Villon was beside himself; he beat upon the door with his hands and +feet, and shouted hoarsely after the chaplain. + +“Wormy old fox!” he cried. “If I had my hand under your twist, I would +send you flying headlong into the bottomless pit.” + +A door shut in the interior, faintly audible to the poet down long +passages. He passed his hand over his mouth with an oath. And then the +humour of the situation struck him, and he laughed and looked lightly +up to heaven, where the stars seemed to be winking over his +discomfiture. + +What was to be done? It looked very like a night in the frosty streets. +The idea of the dead woman popped into his imagination, and gave him a +hearty fright; what had happened to her in the early night might very +well happen to him before morning. And he so young! and with such +immense possibilities of disorderly amusement before him! He felt quite +pathetic over the notion of his own fate, as if it had been some one +else’s, and made a little imaginative vignette of the scene in the +morning when they should find his body. + +He passed all his chances under review, turning the white between his +thumb and forefinger. Unfortunately he was on bad terms with some old +friends who would once have taken pity on him in such a plight. He had +lampooned them in verses, he had beaten and cheated them; and yet now, +when he was in so close a pinch, he thought there was at least one who +might perhaps relent. It was a chance. It was worth trying at least, +and he would go and see. + +On the way, two little accidents happened to him which coloured his +musings in a very different manner. For, first, he fell in with the +track of a patrol, and walked in it for some hundred yards, although it +lay out of his direction. And this spirited him up; at least he had +confused his trail; for he was still possessed with the idea of people +tracking him all about Paris over the snow, and collaring him next +morning before he was awake. The other matter affected him very +differently. He passed a street corner, where, not so long before, a +woman and her child had been devoured by wolves. This was just the kind +of weather, he reflected, when wolves might take it into their heads to +enter Paris again; and a lone man in these deserted streets would run +the chance of something worse than a mere scare. He stopped and looked +upon the place with an unpleasant interest—it was a centre where +several lanes intersected each other; and he looked down them all one +after another, and held his breath to listen, lest he should detect +some galloping black things on the snow or hear the sound of howling +between him and the river. He remembered his mother telling him the +story and pointing out the spot, while he was yet a child. His mother! +If he only knew where she lived, he might make sure at least of +shelter. He determined he would inquire upon the morrow; nay, he would +go and see her too, poor old girl! So thinking, he arrived at his +destination—his last hope for the night. + +The house was quite dark, like its neighbours; and yet after a few +taps, he heard a movement overhead, a door opening, and a cautious +voice asking who was there. The poet named himself in a loud whisper, +and waited, not without some trepidation, the result. Nor had he to +wait long. A window was suddenly opened, and a pailful of slops +splashed down upon the doorstep. Villon had not been unprepared for +something of the sort, and had put himself as much in shelter as the +nature of the porch admitted; but for all that, he was deplorably +drenched below the waist. His hose began to freeze almost at once. +Death from cold and exposure stared him in the face; he remembered he +was of phthisical tendency, and began coughing tentatively. But the +gravity of the danger steadied his nerves. He stopped a few hundred +yards from the door where he had been so rudely used, and reflected +with his finger to his nose. He could only see one way of getting a +lodging, and that was to take it. He had noticed a house not far away, +which looked as if it might be easily broken into, and thither he +betook himself promptly, entertaining himself on the way with the idea +of a room still hot, with a table still loaded with the remains of +supper, where he might pass the rest of the black hours, and whence he +should issue, on the morrow, with an armful of valuable plate. He even +considered on what viands and what wines he should prefer; and as he +was calling the roll of his favourite dainties, roast fish presented +itself to his mind with an odd mixture of amusement and horror. + +“I shall never finish that ballade,” he thought to himself; and then, +with another shudder at the recollection, “Oh, damn his fat head!” he +repeated fervently, and spat upon the snow. + +The house in question looked dark at first sight; but as Villon made a +preliminary inspection in search of the handiest point of attack, a +little twinkle of light caught his eye from behind a curtained window. + +“The devil!” he thought. “People awake! Some student or some saint, +confound the crew! Can’t they get drunk and lie in bed snoring like +their neighbours? What’s the good of curfew, and poor devils of +bell-ringers jumping at a rope’s end in bell-towers? What’s the use of +day, if people sit up all night? The gripes to them!” He grinned as he +saw where his logic was leading him. “Every man to his business, after +all,” added he, “and if they’re awake, by the Lord, I may come by a +supper honestly for this once, and cheat the devil.” + +He went boldly to the door and knocked with an assured hand. On both +previous occasions, he had knocked timidly and with some dread of +attracting notice; but now when he had just discarded the thought of a +burglarious entry, knocking at a door seemed a mighty simple and +innocent proceeding. The sound of his blows echoed through the house +with thin, phantasmal reverberations, as though it were quite empty; +but these had scarcely died away before a measured tread drew near, a +couple of bolts were withdrawn, and one wing was opened broadly, as +though no guile or fear of guile were known to those within. A tall +figure of a man, muscular and spare, but a little bent, confronted +Villon. The head was massive in bulk, but finely sculptured; the nose +blunt at the bottom, but refining upward to where it joined a pair of +strong and honest eyebrows; the mouth and eyes surrounded with delicate +markings, and the whole face based upon a thick white beard, boldly and +squarely trimmed. Seen as it was by the light of a flickering +hand-lamp, it looked perhaps nobler than it had a right to do; but it +was a fine face, honourable rather than intelligent, strong, simple, +and righteous. + +“You knock late, sir,” said the old man in resonant, courteous tones. + +Villon cringed, and brought up many servile words of apology; at a +crisis of this sort, the beggar was uppermost in him, and the man of +genius hid his head with confusion. + +“You are cold,” repeated the old man, “and hungry? Well, step in.” And +he ordered him into the house with a noble enough gesture. + +“Some great seigneur,” thought Villon, as his host, setting down the +lamp on the flagged pavement of the entry, shot the bolts once more +into their places. + +“You will pardon me if I go in front,” he said, when this was done; and +he preceded the poet upstairs into a large apartment, warmed with a pan +of charcoal and lit by a great lamp hanging from the roof. It was very +bare of furniture: only some gold plate on a sideboard; some folios; +and a stand of armour between the windows. Some smart tapestry hung +upon the walls, representing the crucifixion of our Lord in one piece, +and in another a scene of shepherds and shepherdesses by a running +stream. Over the chimney was a shield of arms. + +“Will you seat yourself,” said the old man, “and forgive me if I leave +you? I am alone in my house to-night, and if you are to eat I must +forage for you myself.” + +No sooner was his host gone than Villon leaped from the chair on which +he had just seated himself, and began examining the room, with the +stealth and passion of a cat. He weighed the gold flagons in his hand, +opened all the folios, and investigated the arms upon the shield, and +the stuff with which the seats were lined. He raised the window +curtains, and saw that the windows were set with rich stained glass in +figures, so far as he could see, of martial import. Then he stood in +the middle of the room, drew a long breath, and retaining it with +puffed cheeks, looked round and round him, turning on his heels, as if +to impress every feature of the apartment on his memory. + +“Seven pieces of plate,” he said. “If there had been ten, I would have +risked it. A fine house, and a fine old master, so help me all the +saints!” + +And just then, hearing the old man’s tread returning along the +corridor, he stole back to his chair, and began humbly toasting his wet +legs before the charcoal pan. + +His entertainer had a plate of meat in one hand and a jug of wine in +the other. He set down the plate upon the table, motioning Villon to +draw in his chair, and going to the sideboard, brought back two +goblets, which he filled. + +“I drink to your better fortune,” he said, gravely touching Villon’s +cup with his own. + +“To our better acquaintance,” said the poet, growing bold. A mere man +of the people would have been awed by the courtesy of the old seigneur, +but Villon was hardened in that matter; he had made mirth for great +lords before now, and found them as black rascals as himself. And so he +devoted himself to the viands with a ravenous gusto, while the old man, +leaning backward, watched him with steady, curious eyes. + +“You have blood on your shoulder, my man,” he said. Montigny must have +laid his wet right hand upon him as he left the house. He cursed +Montigny in his heart. + +“It was none of my shedding,” he stammered. + +“I had not supposed so,” returned his host quietly. + +“A brawl?” + +“Well, something of that sort,” Villon admitted with a quaver. + +“Perhaps a fellow murdered?” + +“Oh no, not murdered,” said the poet, more and more confused. “It was +all fair play—murdered by accident. I had no hand in it, God strike me +dead!” he added fervently. + +“One rogue the fewer, I dare say,” observed the master of the house. + +“You may dare to say that,” agreed Villon, infinitely relieved. “As big +a rogue as there is between here and Jerusalem. He turned up his toes +like a lamb. But it was a nasty thing to look at. I dare say you’ve +seen dead men in your time, my lord?” he added, glancing at the armour. + +“Many,” said the old man. “I have followed the wars, as you imagine.” + +Villon laid down his knife and fork, which he had just taken up again. + +“Were any of them bald?” he asked. + +“Oh yes, and with hair as white as mine.” + +“I don’t think I should mind the white so much,” said Villon. “His was +red.” And he had a return of his shuddering and tendency to laughter, +which he drowned with a great draught of wine. “I’m a little put out +when I think of it,” he went on. “I knew him—damn him! And then the +cold gives a man fancies—or the fancies give a man cold, I don’t know +which.” + +“Have you any money?” asked the old man. + +“I have one white,” returned the poet, laughing. “I got it out of a +dead jade’s stocking in a porch. She was as dead as Cæsar, poor wench, +and as cold as a church, with bits of ribbon sticking in her hair. This +is a hard world in winter for wolves and wenches and poor rogues like +me.” + +“I,” said the old man, “am Enguerrand de la Feuillée, seigneur de +Brisetout, bailly du Patatrac. Who and what may you be?” + +Villon rose and made a suitable reverence. “I am called Francis +Villon,” he said, “a poor Master of Arts of this university. I know +some Latin, and a deal of vice. I can make chansons, ballades, lais, +virelais, and roundels, and I am very fond of wine. I was born in a +garret, and I shall not improbably die upon the gallows. I may add, my +lord, that from this night forward I am your lordship’s very obsequious +servant to command.” + +“No servant of mine,” said the knight; “my guest for this evening, and +no more.” + +“A very grateful guest,” said Villon politely; and he drank in dumb +show to his entertainer. + +“You are shrewd,” began the old man, tapping his forehead, “very +shrewd; you have learning; you are a clerk; and yet you take a small +piece of money off a dead woman in the street. Is it not a kind of +theft?” + +“It is a kind of theft much practised in the wars, my lord.” + +“The wars are the field of honour,” returned the old man proudly. +“There a man plays his life upon the cast; he fights in the name of his +lord the king, his Lord God, and all their lordships the holy saints +and angels.” + +“Put it,” said Villon, “that I were really a thief, should I not play +my life also, and against heavier odds?” + +“For gain, but not for honour.” + +“Gain?” repeated Villon with a shrug. “Gain! The poor fellow wants +supper, and takes it. So does the soldier in a campaign. Why, what are +all these requisitions we hear so much about? If they are not gain to +those who take them, they are loss enough to the others. The +men-at-arms drink by a good fire, while the burgher bites his nails to +buy them wine and wood. I have seen a good many ploughmen swinging on +trees about the country, ay, I have seen thirty on one elm, and a very +poor figure they made; and when I asked some one how all these came to +be hanged, I was told it was because they could not scrape together +enough crowns to satisfy the men-at-arms.” + +“These things are a necessity of war, which the low-born must endure +with constancy. It is true that some captains drive over hard; there +are spirits in every rank not easily moved by pity; and indeed many +follow arms who are no better than brigands.” + +“You see,” said the poet, “you cannot separate the soldier from the +brigand; and what is a thief but an isolated brigand with circumspect +manners? I steal a couple of mutton chops, without so much as +disturbing people’s sleep; the farmer grumbles a bit, but sups none the +less wholesomely on what remains. You come up blowing gloriously on a +trumpet, take away the whole sheep, and beat the farmer pitifully into +the bargain. I have no trumpet; I am only Tom, Dick, or Harry; I am a +rogue and a dog, and hanging’s too good for me—with all my heart; but +just you ask the farmer which of us he prefers, just find out which of +us he lies awake to curse on cold nights.” + +“Look at us two,” said his lordship. “I am old, strong, and honoured. +If I were turned from my house to-morrow, hundreds would be proud to +shelter me. Poor people would go out and pass the night in the streets +with their children, if I merely hinted that I wished to be alone. And +I find you up, wandering homeless, and picking farthings off dead women +by the wayside! I fear no man and nothing; I have seen you tremble and +lose countenance at a word. I wait God’s summons contentedly in my own +house, or, if it please the king to call me out again, upon the field +of battle. You look for the gallows; a rough, swift death, without hope +or honour. Is there no difference between these two?” + +“As far as to the moon,” Villon acquiesced. “But if I had been born +lord of Brisetout, and you had been the poor scholar Francis, would the +difference have been any the less? Should not I have been warming my +knees at this charcoal pan, and would not you have been groping for +farthings in the snow? Should not I have been the soldier, and you the +thief?” + +“A thief!” cried the old man. “I a thief! If you understood your words, +you would repent them.” + +Villon turned out his hands with a gesture of inimitable impudence. “If +your lordship had done me the honour to follow my argument!” he said. + +“I do you too much honour in submitting to your presence,” said the +knight. “Learn to curb your tongue when you speak with old and +honourable men, or some one hastier than I may reprove you in a sharper +fashion.” And he rose and paced the lower end of the apartment, +struggling with anger and antipathy. Villon surreptitiously refilled +his cup, and settled himself more comfortably in the chair, crossing +his knees and leaning his head upon one hand and the elbow against the +back of the chair. He was now replete and warm; and he was in nowise +frightened for his host, having gauged him as justly as was possible +between two such different characters. The night was far spent, and in +a very comfortable fashion after all; and he felt morally certain of a +safe departure on the morrow. + +“Tell me one thing,” said the old man, pausing in his walk. “Are you +really a thief?” + +“I claim the sacred rights of hospitality,” returned the poet. “My +lord, I am.” + +“You are very young,” the knight continued. + +“I should never have been so old,” replied Villon, showing his fingers, +“if I had not helped myself with these ten talents. They have been my +nursing mothers and my nursing fathers.” + +“You may still repent and change.” + +“I repent daily,” said the poet. “There are few people more given to +repentance than poor Francis. As for change, let somebody change my +circumstances. A man must continue to eat, if it were only that he may +continue to repent.” + +“The change must begin in the heart,” returned the old man solemnly. + +“My dear lord,” answered Villon, “do you really fancy that I steal for +pleasure? I hate stealing, like any other piece of work or of danger. +My teeth chatter when I see a gallows. But I must eat, I must drink, I +must mix in society of some sort. What the devil! Man is not a solitary +animal—_Cui Deus fæminam tradit_. Make me king’s pantler—make me abbot +of St. Denis; make me bailly of the Patatrac; and then I shall be +changed indeed. But as long as you leave me the poor scholar Francis +Villon, without a farthing, why, of course, I remain the same.” + +“The grace of God is all-powerful.” + +“I should be a heretic to question it,” said Francis. “It has made you +lord of Brisetout and bailly of the Patatrac; it has given me nothing +but the quick wits under my hat and these ten toes upon my hands. May I +help myself to wine? I thank you respectfully. By God’s grace, you have +a very superior vintage.” + +The lord of Brisetout walked to and fro with his hands behind his back. +Perhaps he was not yet quite settled in his mind about the parallel +between thieves and soldiers; perhaps Villon had interested him by some +cross-thread of sympathy; perhaps his wits were simply muddled by so +much unfamiliar reasoning; but whatever the cause, he somehow yearned +to convert the young man to a better way of thinking, and could not +make up his mind to drive him forth again into the street. + +“There is something more than I can understand in this,” he said at +length. “Your mouth is full of subtleties, and the devil has led you +very far astray; but the devil is only a very weak spirit before God’s +truth, and all his subtleties vanish at a word of true honour, like +darkness at morning. Listen to me once more. I learned long ago that a +gentleman should live chivalrously and lovingly to God, and the king, +and his lady; and though I have seen many strange things done, I have +still striven to command my ways upon that rule. It is not only written +in all noble histories, but in every man’s heart, if he will take care +to read. You speak of food and wine, and I know very well that hunger +is a difficult trial to endure; but you do not speak of other wants; +you say nothing of honour, of faith to God and other men, of courtesy, +of love without reproach. It may be that I am not very wise—and yet I +think I am—but you seem to me like one who has lost his way and made a +great error in life. You are attending to the little wants, and you +have totally forgotten the great and only real ones, like a man who +should be doctoring a toothache on the Judgment Day. For such things as +honour and love and faith are not only nobler than food and drink, but +indeed I think that we desire them more, and suffer more sharply for +their absence. I speak to you as I think you will most easily +understand me. Are you not, while careful to fill your belly, +disregarding another appetite in your heart, which spoils the pleasure +of your life and keeps you continually wretched?” + +Villon was sensibly nettled under all this sermonising. “You think I +have no sense of honour!” he cried. “I’m poor enough, God knows! It’s +hard to see rich people with their gloves, and you blowing in your +hands. An empty belly is a bitter thing, although you speak so lightly +of it. If you had had as many as I, perhaps you would change your tune. +Any way I’m a thief—make the most of that—but I’m not a devil from +hell, God strike me dead. I would have you to know I’ve an honour of my +own, as good as yours, though I don’t prate about it all day long, as +if it was a God’s miracle to have any. It seems quite natural to me; I +keep it in its box till it’s wanted. Why now, look you here, how long +have I been in this room with you? Did you not tell me you were alone +in the house? Look at your gold plate! You’re strong, if you like, but +you’re old and unarmed, and I have my knife. What did I want but a jerk +of the elbow and here would have been you with the cold steel in your +bowels, and there would have been me, linking in the streets, with an +armful of gold cups! Did you suppose I hadn’t wit enough to see that? +And I scorned the action. There are your damned goblets, as safe as in +a church; there are you, with your heart ticking as good as new; and +here am I, ready to go out again as poor as I came in, with my one +white that you threw in my teeth! And you think I have no sense of +honour—God strike me dead!” + +The old man stretched out his right arm. “I will tell you what you +are,” he said. “You are a rogue, my man, an impudent and a +black-hearted rogue and vagabond. I have passed an hour with you. Oh! +believe me, I feel myself disgraced! And you have eaten and drunk at my +table. But now I am sick at your presence; the day has come, and the +night-bird should be off to his roost. Will you go before, or after?” + +“Which you please,” returned the poet, rising. “I believe you to be +strictly honourable.” He thoughtfully emptied his cup. “I wish I could +add you were intelligent,” he went on, knocking on his head with his +knuckles. “Age, age! the brains stiff and rheumatic.” + +The old man preceded him from a point of self-respect; Villon followed, +whistling, with his thumbs in his girdle. + +“God pity you,” said the lord of Brisetout at the door. + +“Good-bye, papa,” returned Villon with a yawn. “Many thanks for the +cold mutton.” + +The door closed behind him. The dawn was breaking over the white roofs. +A chill, uncomfortable morning ushered in the day. Villon stood and +heartily stretched himself in the middle of the road. + +“A very dull old gentleman,” he thought. “I wonder what his goblets may +be worth.” + + + + +THE SIRE DE MALÉTROIT’S DOOR + + +Denis de Beaulieu was not yet two-and-twenty, but he counted himself a +grown man, and a very accomplished cavalier into the bargain. Lads were +early formed in that rough, warfaring epoch; and when one has been in a +pitched battle and a dozen raids, has killed one’s man in an honourable +fashion, and knows a thing or two of strategy and mankind, a certain +swagger in the gait is surely to be pardoned. He had put up his horse +with due care, and supped with due deliberation; and then, in a very +agreeable frame of mind, went out to pay a visit in the grey of the +evening. It was not a very wise proceeding on the young man’s part. He +would have done better to remain beside the fire or go decently to bed. +For the town was full of the troops of Burgundy and England under a +mixed command; and though Denis was there on safe-conduct, his +safe-conduct was like to serve him little on a chance encounter. + +It was September 1429; the weather had fallen sharp; a flighty piping +wind, laden with showers, beat about the township; and the dead leaves +ran riot along the streets. Here and there a window was already lighted +up; and the noise of men-at-arms making merry over supper within, came +forth in fits and was swallowed up and carried away by the wind. The +night fell swiftly; the flag of England, fluttering on the spire-top, +grew ever fainter and fainter against the flying clouds—a black speck +like a swallow in the tumultuous, leaden chaos of the sky. As the night +fell the wind rose, and began to hoot under archways and roar amid the +tree-tops in the valley below the town. + +Denis de Beaulieu walked fast and was soon knocking at his friend’s +door; but though he promised himself to stay only a little while and +make an early return, his welcome was so pleasant, and he found so much +to delay him, that it was already long past midnight before he said +good-bye upon the threshold. The wind had fallen again in the +meanwhile; the night was as black as the grave; not a star, nor a +glimmer of moonshine, slipped through the canopy of cloud. Denis was +ill-acquainted with the intricate lanes of Chateau Landon; even by +daylight he had found some trouble in picking his way; and in this +absolute darkness he soon lost it altogether. He was certain of one +thing only—to keep mounting the hill; for his friend’s house lay at the +lower end, or tail, of Chateau Landon, while the inn was up at the +head, under the great church spire. With this clue to go upon he +stumbled and groped forward, now breathing more freely in open places +where there was a good slice of sky overhead, now feeling along the +wall in stifling closes. It is an eerie and mysterious position to be +thus submerged in opaque blackness in an almost unknown town. The +silence is terrifying in its possibilities. The touch of cold window +bars to the exploring hand startles the man like the touch of a toad; +the inequalities of the pavement shake his heart into his mouth; a +piece of denser darkness threatens an ambuscade or a chasm in the +pathway; and where the air is brighter, the houses put on strange and +bewildering appearances, as if to lead him farther from his way. For +Denis, who had to regain his inn without attracting notice, there was +real danger as well as mere discomfort in the walk; and he went warily +and boldly at once, and at every corner paused to make an observation. + +He had been for some time threading a lane so narrow that he could +touch a wall with either hand, when it began to open out and go sharply +downward. Plainly this lay no longer in the direction of his inn; but +the hope of a little more light tempted him forward to reconnoitre. The +lane ended in a terrace with a bartizan wall, which gave an out-look +between high houses, as out of an embrasure, into the valley lying dark +and formless several hundred feet below. Denis looked down, and could +discern a few tree-tops waving and a single speck of brightness where +the river ran across a weir. The weather was clearing up, and the sky +had lightened, so as to show the outline of the heavier clouds and the +dark margin of the hills. By the uncertain glimmer, the house on his +left hand should be a place of some pretensions; it was surmounted by +several pinnacles and turret-tops; the round stern of a chapel, with a +fringe of flying buttresses, projected boldly from the main block; and +the door was sheltered under a deep porch carved with figures and +overhung by two long gargoyles. The windows of the chapel gleamed +through their intricate tracery with a light as of many tapers, and +threw out the buttresses and the peaked roof in a more intense +blackness against the sky. It was plainly the hotel of some great +family of the neighbourhood; and as it reminded Denis of a town house +of his own at Bourges, he stood for some time gazing up at it and +mentally gauging the skill of the architects and the consideration of +the two families. + +There seemed to be no issue to the terrace but the lane by which he had +reached it; he could only retrace his steps, but he had gained some +notion of his whereabouts, and hoped by this means to hit the main +thoroughfare and speedily regain the inn. He was reckoning without that +chapter of accidents which was to make this night memorable above all +others in his career; for he had not gone back above a hundred yards +before he saw a light coming to meet him, and heard loud voices +speaking together in the echoing narrows of the lane. It was a party of +men-at-arms going the night round with torches. Denis assured himself +that they had all been making free with the wine-bowl, and were in no +mood to be particular about safe-conducts or the niceties of chivalrous +war. It was as like as not that they would kill him like a dog and +leave him where he fell. The situation was inspiriting but nervous. +Their own torches would conceal him from sight, he reflected; and he +hoped that they would drown the noise of his footsteps with their own +empty voices. If he were but fleet and silent, he might evade their +notice altogether. + +Unfortunately, as he turned to beat a retreat, his foot rolled upon a +pebble; he fell against the wall with an ejaculation, and his sword +rang loudly on the stones. Two or three voices demanded who went +there—some in French, some in English; but Denis made no reply, and ran +the faster down the lane. Once upon the terrace, he paused to look +back. They still kept calling after him, and just then began to double +the pace in pursuit, with a considerable clank of armour, and great +tossing of the torchlight to and fro in the narrow jaws of the passage. + +Denis cast a look around and darted into the porch. There he might +escape observation, or—if that were too much to expect—was in a capital +posture whether for parley or defence. So thinking, he drew his sword +and tried to set his back against the door. To his surprise, it yielded +behind his weight; and though he turned in a moment, continued to swing +back on oiled and noiseless hinges, until it stood wide open on a black +interior. When things fall out opportunely for the person concerned, he +is not apt to be critical about the how or why, his own immediate +personal convenience seeming a sufficient reason for the strangest +oddities and resolutions in our sublunary things; and so Denis, without +a moment’s hesitation, stepped within and partly closed the door behind +him to conceal his place of refuge. Nothing was further from his +thoughts than to close it altogether; but for some inexplicable +reason—perhaps by a spring or a weight—the ponderous mass of oak +whipped itself out of his fingers and clanked to, with a formidable +rumble and a noise like the falling of an automatic bar. + +The round, at that very moment, debouched upon the terrace and +proceeded to summon him with shouts and curses. He heard them ferreting +in the dark corners; the stock of a lance even rattled along the outer +surface of the door behind which he stood; but these gentlemen were in +too high a humour to be long delayed, and soon made off down a +corkscrew pathway which had escaped Denis’s observation, and passed out +of sight and hearing along the battlements of the town. + +Denis breathed again. He gave them a few minutes’ grace for fear of +accidents, and then groped about for some means of opening the door and +slipping forth again. The inner surface was quite smooth, not a handle, +not a moulding, not a projection of any sort. He got his finger-nails +round the edges and pulled, but the mass was immovable. He shook it, it +was as firm as a rock. Denis de Beaulieu frowned and gave vent to a +little noiseless whistle. What ailed the door? he wondered. Why was it +open? How came it to shut so easily and so effectually after him? There +was something obscure and underhand about all this, that was little to +the young man’s fancy. It looked like a snare; and yet who could +suppose a snare in such a quiet by-street and in a house of so +prosperous and even noble an exterior? And yet—snare or no snare, +intentionally or unintentionally—here he was, prettily trapped; and for +the life of him he could see no way out of it again. The darkness began +to weigh upon him. He gave ear; all was silent without, but within and +close by he seemed to catch a faint sighing, a faint sobbing rustle, a +little stealthy creak—as though many persons were at his side, holding +themselves quite still, and governing even their respiration with the +extreme of slyness. The idea went to his vitals with a shock, and he +faced about suddenly as if to defend his life. Then, for the first +time, he became aware of a light about the level of his eyes and at +some distance in the interior of the house—a vertical thread of light, +widening towards the bottom, such as might escape between two wings of +arras over a doorway. To see anything was a relief to Denis; it was +like a piece of solid ground to a man labouring in a morass; his mind +seized upon it with avidity; and he stood staring at it and trying to +piece together some logical conception of his surroundings. Plainly +there was a flight of steps ascending from his own level to that of +this illuminated doorway; and indeed he thought he could make out +another thread of light, as fine as a needle and as faint as +phosphorescence, which might very well be reflected along the polished +wood of a handrail. Since he had begun to suspect that he was not +alone, his heart had continued to beat with smothering violence, and an +intolerable desire for action of any sort had possessed itself of his +spirit. He was in deadly peril, he believed. What could be more natural +than to mount the staircase, lift the curtain, and confront his +difficulty at once? At least he would be dealing with something +tangible; at least he would be no longer in the dark. He stepped slowly +forward with outstretched hands, until his foot struck the bottom step; +then he rapidly scaled the stairs, stood for a moment to compose his +expression, lifted the arras and went in. + +He found himself in a large apartment of polished stone. There were +three doors; one on each of three sides; all similarly curtained with +tapestry. The fourth side was occupied by two large windows and a great +stone chimney-piece, carved with the arms of the Malétroits. Denis +recognised the bearings, and was gratified to find himself in such good +hands. The room was strongly illuminated; but it contained little +furniture except a heavy table and a chair or two, the hearth was +innocent of fire, and the pavement was but sparsely strewn with rushes +clearly many days old. + +On a high chair beside the chimney, and directly facing Denis as he +entered, sat a little old gentleman in a fur tippet. He sat with his +legs crossed and his hands folded, and a cup of spiced wine stood by +his elbow on a bracket on the wall. His countenance had a strongly +masculine cast; not properly human, but such as we see in the bull, the +goat, or the domestic boar; something equivocal and wheedling, +something greedy, brutal, and dangerous. The upper lip was inordinately +full, as though swollen by a blow or a toothache; and the smile, the +peaked eyebrows, and the small, strong eyes were quaintly and almost +comically evil in expression. Beautiful white hair hung straight all +round his head, like a saint’s, and fell in a single curl upon the +tippet. His beard and moustache were the pink of venerable sweetness. +Age, probably in consequence of inordinate precautions, had left no +mark upon his hands; and the Malétroit hand was famous. It would be +difficult to imagine anything at once so fleshy and so delicate in +design; the taper, sensual fingers were like those of one of Leonardo’s +women; the fork of the thumb made a dimpled protuberance when closed; +the nails were perfectly shaped, and of a dead, surprising whiteness. +It rendered his aspect tenfold more redoubtable, that a man with hands +like these should keep them devoutly folded in his lap like a virgin +martyr—that a man with so intense and startling an expression of face +should sit patiently on his seat and contemplate people with an +unwinking stare, like a god, or a god’s statue. His quiescence seemed +ironical and treacherous, it fitted so poorly with his looks. + +Such was Alain, Sire de Malétroit. + +Denis and he looked silently at each other for a second or two. + +“Pray step in,” said the Sire de Malétroit. “I have been expecting you +all the evening.” + +He had not risen, but he accompanied his words with a smile and a +slight but courteous inclination of the head. Partly from the smile, +partly from the strange musical murmur with which the Sire prefaced his +observation, Denis felt a strong shudder of disgust go through his +marrow. And what with disgust and honest confusion of mind, he could +scarcely get words together in reply. + +“I fear,” he said, “that this is a double accident. I am not the person +you suppose me. It seems you were looking for a visit; but for my part, +nothing was further from my thoughts—nothing could be more contrary to +my wishes—than this intrusion.” + +“Well, well,” replied the old gentleman indulgently, “here you are, +which is the main point. Seat yourself, my friend, and put yourself +entirely at your ease. We shall arrange our little affairs presently.” + +Denis perceived that the matter was still complicated with some +misconception, and he hastened to continue his explanations. + +“Your door . . . ” he began. + +“About my door?” asked the other, raising his peaked eyebrows. “A +little piece of ingenuity.” And he shrugged his shoulders. “A +hospitable fancy! By your own account, you were not desirous of making +my acquaintance. We old people look for such reluctance now and then; +and when it touches our honour, we cast about until we find some way of +overcoming it. You arrive uninvited, but believe me, very welcome.” + +“You persist in error, sir,” said Denis. “There can be no question +between you and me. I am a stranger in this countryside. My name is +Denis, damoiseau de Beaulieu. If you see me in your house, it is only—” + +“My young friend,” interrupted the other, “you will permit me to have +my own ideas on that subject. They probably differ from yours at the +present moment,” he added with a leer, “but time will show which of us +is in the right.” + +Denis was convinced he had to do with a lunatic. He seated himself with +a shrug, content to wait the upshot; and a pause ensued, during which +he thought he could distinguish a hurried gabbling as of prayer from +behind the arras immediately opposite him. Sometimes there seemed to be +but one person engaged, sometimes two; and the vehemence of the voice, +low as it was, seemed to indicate either great haste or an agony of +spirit. It occurred to him that this piece of tapestry covered the +entrance to the chapel he had noticed from without. + +The old gentleman meanwhile surveyed Denis from head to foot with a +smile, and from time to time emitted little noises like a bird or a +mouse, which seemed to indicate a high degree of satisfaction. This +state of matters became rapidly insupportable; and Denis, to put an end +to it, remarked politely that the wind had gone down. + +The old gentleman fell into a fit of silent laughter, so prolonged and +violent that he became quite red in the face. Denis got upon his feet +at once, and put on his hat with a flourish. + +“Sir,” he said, “if you are in your wits, you have affronted me +grossly. If you are out of them, I flatter myself I can find better +employment for my brains than to talk with lunatics. My conscience is +clear; you have made a fool of me from the first moment; you have +refused to hear my explanations; and now there is no power under God +will make me stay here any longer; and if I cannot make my way out in a +more decent fashion, I will hack your door in pieces with my sword.” + +The Sire de Malétroit raised his right hand and wagged it at Denis with +the fore and little fingers extended. + +“My dear nephew,” he said, “sit down.” + +“Nephew!” retorted Denis, “you lie in your throat;” and he snapped his +fingers in his face. + +“Sit down, you rogue!” cried the old gentleman, in a sudden, harsh +voice, like the barking of a dog. “Do you fancy,” he went on, “that +when I had made my little contrivance for the door I had stopped short +with that? If you prefer to be bound hand and foot till your bones +ache, rise and try to go away. If you choose to remain a free young +buck, agreeably conversing with an old gentleman—why, sit where you are +in peace, and God be with you.” + +“Do you mean I am a prisoner?” demanded Denis. + +“I state the facts,” replied the other. “I would rather leave the +conclusion to yourself.” + +Denis sat down again. Externally he managed to keep pretty calm; but +within, he was now boiling with anger, now chilled with apprehension. +He no longer felt convinced that he was dealing with a madman. And if +the old gentleman was sane, what, in God’s name, had he to look for? +What absurd or tragical adventure had befallen him? What countenance +was he to assume? + +While he was thus unpleasantly reflecting, the arras that overhung the +chapel door was raised, and a tall priest in his robes came forth and, +giving a long, keen stare at Denis, said something in an undertone to +Sire de Malétroit. + +“She is in a better frame of spirit?” asked the latter. + +“She is more resigned, messire,” replied the priest. + +“Now the Lord help her, she is hard to please!” sneered the old +gentleman. “A likely stripling—not ill-born—and of her own choosing, +too? Why, what more would the jade have?” + +“The situation is not usual for a young damsel,” said the other, “and +somewhat trying to her blushes.” + +“She should have thought of that before she began the dance. It was +none of my choosing, God knows that: but since she is in it, by our +Lady, she shall carry it to the end.” And then addressing Denis, +“Monsieur de Beaulieu,” he asked, “may I present you to my niece? She +has been waiting your arrival, I may say, with even greater impatience +than myself.” + +Denis had resigned himself with a good grace—all he desired was to know +the worst of it as speedily as possible; so he rose at once, and bowed +in acquiescence. The Sire de Malétroit followed his example and limped, +with the assistance of the chaplain’s arm, towards the chapel door. The +priest pulled aside the arras, and all three entered. The building had +considerable architectural pretensions. A light groining sprang from +six stout columns, and hung down in two rich pendants from the centre +of the vault. The place terminated behind the altar in a round end, +embossed and honeycombed with a superfluity of ornament in relief, and +pierced by many little windows shaped like stars, trefoils, or wheels. +These windows were imperfectly glazed, so that the night air circulated +freely in the chapel. The tapers, of which there must have been half a +hundred burning on the altar, were unmercifully blown about; and the +light went through many different phases of brilliancy and +semi-eclipse. On the steps in front of the altar knelt a young girl +richly attired as a bride. A chill settled over Denis as he observed +her costume; he fought with desperate energy against the conclusion +that was being thrust upon his mind; it could not—it should not—be as +he feared. + +“Blanche,” said the Sire, in his most flute-like tones, “I have brought +a friend to see you, my little girl; turn round and give him your +pretty hand. It is good to be devout; but it is necessary to be polite, +my niece.” + +The girl rose to her feet and turned towards the new comers. She moved +all of a piece; and shame and exhaustion were expressed in every line +of her fresh young body; and she held her head down and kept her eyes +upon the pavement, as she came slowly forward. In the course of her +advance, her eyes fell upon Denis de Beaulieu’s feet—feet of which he +was justly vain, be it remarked, and wore in the most elegant +accoutrement even while travelling. She paused—started, as if his +yellow boots had conveyed some shocking meaning—and glanced suddenly up +into the wearer’s countenance. Their eyes met; shame gave place to +horror and terror in her looks; the blood left her lips; with a +piercing scream she covered her face with her hands and sank upon the +chapel floor. + +“That is not the man!” she cried. “My uncle, that in not the man!” + +The Sire de Malétroit chirped agreeably. “Of course not,” he said; “I +expected as much. It was so unfortunate you could not remember his +name.” + +“Indeed,” she cried, “indeed, I have never seen this person till this +moment—I have never so much as set eyes upon him—I never wish to see +him again. Sir,” she said, turning to Denis, “if you are a gentleman, +you will bear me out. Have I ever seen you—have you ever seen me—before +this accursed hour?” + +“To speak for myself, I have never had that pleasure,” answered the +young man. “This is the first time, messire, that I have met with your +engaging niece.” + +The old gentleman shrugged his shoulders. + +“I am distressed to hear it,” he said. “But it is never too late to +begin. I had little more acquaintance with my own late lady ere I +married her; which proves,” he added with a grimace, “that these +impromptu marriages may often produce an excellent understanding in the +long-run. As the bridegroom is to have a voice in the matter, I will +give him two hours to make up for lost time before we proceed with the +ceremony.” And he turned towards the door, followed by the clergyman. + +The girl was on her feet in a moment. “My uncle, you cannot be in +earnest,” she said. “I declare before God I will stab myself rather +than be forced on that young man. The heart rises at it; God forbids +such marriages; you dishonour your white hair. Oh, my uncle, pity me! +There is not a woman in all the world but would prefer death to such a +nuptial. Is it possible,” she added, faltering—“is it possible that you +do not believe me—that you still think this”—and she pointed at Denis +with a tremor of anger and contempt—“that you still think _this_ to be +the man?” + +“Frankly,” said the old gentleman, pausing on the threshold, “I do. But +let me explain to you once for all, Blanche de Malétroit, my way of +thinking about this affair. When you took it into your head to +dishonour my family and the name that I have borne, in peace and war, +for more than three-score years, you forfeited, not only the right to +question my designs, but that of looking me in the face. If your father +had been alive, he would have spat on you and turned you out of doors. +His was the hand of iron. You may bless your God you have only to deal +with the hand of velvet, mademoiselle. It was my duty to get you +married without delay. Out of pure goodwill, I have tried to find your +own gallant for you. And I believe I have succeeded. But before God and +all the holy angels, Blanche de Malétroit, if I have not, I care not +one jack-straw. So let me recommend you to be polite to our young +friend; for upon my word, your next groom may be less appetising.” + +And with that he went out, with the chaplain at his heels; and the +arras fell behind the pair. + +The girl turned upon Denis with flashing eyes. + +“And what, sir,” she demanded, “may be the meaning of all this?” + +“God knows,” returned Denis gloomily. “I am a prisoner in this house, +which seems full of mad people. More I know not; and nothing do I +understand.” + +“And pray how came you here?” she asked. + +He told her as briefly as he could. “For the rest,” he added, “perhaps +you will follow my example, and tell me the answer to all these +riddles, and what, in God’s name, is like to be the end of it.” + +She stood silent for a little, and he could see her lips tremble and +her tearless eyes burn with a feverish lustre. Then she pressed her +forehead in both hands. + +“Alas, how my head aches!” she said wearily—“to say nothing of my poor +heart! But it is due to you to know my story, unmaidenly as it must +seem. I am called Blanche de Malétroit; I have been without father or +mother for—oh! for as long as I can recollect, and indeed I have been +most unhappy all my life. Three months ago a young captain began to +stand near me every day in church. I could see that I pleased him; I am +much to blame, but I was so glad that any one should love me; and when +he passed me a letter, I took it home with me and read it with great +pleasure. Since that time he has written many. He was so anxious to +speak with me, poor fellow! and kept asking me to leave the door open +some evening that we might have two words upon the stair. For he knew +how much my uncle trusted me.” She gave something like a sob at that, +and it was a moment before she could go on. “My uncle is a hard man, +but he is very shrewd,” she said at last. “He has performed many feats +in war, and was a great person at court, and much trusted by Queen +Isabeau in old days. How he came to suspect me I cannot tell; but it is +hard to keep anything from his knowledge; and this morning, as we came +from mass, he took my hand in his, forced it open, and read my little +billet, walking by my side all the while. When he had finished, he gave +it back to me with great politeness. It contained another request to +have the door left open; and this has been the ruin of us all. My uncle +kept me strictly in my room until evening, and then ordered me to dress +myself as you see me—a hard mockery for a young girl, do you not think +so? I suppose, when he could not prevail with me to tell him the young +captain’s name, he must have laid a trap for him: into which, alas! you +have fallen in the anger of God. I looked for much confusion; for how +could I tell whether he was willing to take me for his wife on these +sharp terms? He might have been trifling with me from the first; or I +might have made myself too cheap in his eyes. But truly I had not +looked for such a shameful punishment as this! I could not think that +God would let a girl be so disgraced before a young man. And now I have +told you all; and I can scarcely hope that you will not despise me.” + +Denis made her a respectful inclination. + +“Madam,” he said, “you have honoured me by your confidence. It remains +for me to prove that I am not unworthy of the honour. Is Messire de +Malétroit at hand?” + +“I believe he is writing in the salle without,” she answered. + +“May I lead you thither, madam?” asked Denis, offering his hand with +his most courtly bearing. + +She accepted it; and the pair passed out of the chapel, Blanche in a +very drooping and shamefast condition, but Denis strutting and ruffling +in the consciousness of a mission, and the boyish certainty of +accomplishing it with honour. + +The Sire de Malétroit rose to meet them with an ironical obeisance. + +“Sir,” said Denis, with the grandest possible air, “I believe I am to +have some say in the matter of this marriage; and let me tell you at +once, I will be no party to forcing the inclination of this young lady. +Had it been freely offered to me, I should have been proud to accept +her hand, for I perceive she is as good as she is beautiful; but as +things are, I have now the honour, messire, of refusing.” + +Blanche looked at him with gratitude in her eyes; but the old gentleman +only smiled and smiled, until his smile grew positively sickening to +Denis. + +“I am afraid,” he said, “Monsieur de Beaulieu, that you do not +perfectly understand the choice I have to offer you. Follow me, I +beseech you, to this window.” And he led the way to one of the large +windows which stood open on the night. “You observe,” he went on, +“there is an iron ring in the upper masonry, and reeved through that, a +very efficacious rope. Now, mark my words; if you should find your +disinclination to my niece’s person insurmountable, I shall have you +hanged out of this window before sunrise. I shall only proceed to such +an extremity with the greatest regret, you may believe me. For it is +not at all your death that I desire, but my niece’s establishment in +life. At the same time, it must come to that if you prove obstinate. +Your family, Monsieur de Beaulieu, is very well in its way; but if you +sprang from Charlemagne, you should not refuse the hand of a Malétroit +with impunity—not if she had been as common as the Paris road—not if +she were as hideous as the gargoyle over my door. Neither my niece nor +you, nor my own private feelings, move me at all in this matter. The +honour of my house has been compromised; I believe you to be the guilty +person; at least you are now in the secret; and you can hardly wonder +if I request you to wipe out the stain. If you will not, your blood be +on your own head! It will be no great satisfaction to me to have your +interesting relics kicking their heels in the breeze below my windows; +but half a loaf is better than no bread, and if I cannot cure the +dishonour, I shall at least stop the scandal.” + +There was a pause. + +“I believe there are other ways of settling such imbroglios among +gentlemen,” said Denis. “You wear a sword, and I hear you have used it +with distinction.” + +The Sire de Malétroit made a signal to the chaplain, who crossed the +room with long silent strides and raised the arras over the third of +the three doors. It was only a moment before he let it fall again; but +Denis had time to see a dusky passage full of armed men. + +“When I was a little younger, I should have been delighted to honour +you, Monsieur de Beaulieu,” said Sire Alain; “but I am now too old. +Faithful retainers are the sinews of age, and I must employ the +strength I have. This is one of the hardest things to swallow as a man +grows up in years; but with a little patience, even this becomes +habitual. You and the lady seem to prefer the salle for what remains of +your two hours; and as I have no desire to cross your preference, I +shall resign it to your use with all the pleasure in the world. No +haste!” he added, holding up his hand, as he saw a dangerous look come +into Denis de Beaulieu’s face. “If your mind revolts against hanging, +it will be time enough two hours hence to throw yourself out of the +window or upon the pikes of my retainers. Two hours of life are always +two hours. A great many things may turn up in even as little a while as +that. And, besides, if I understand her appearance, my niece has still +something to say to you. You will not disfigure your last hours by a +want of politeness to a lady?” + +Denis looked at Blanche, and she made him an imploring gesture. + +It is likely that the old gentleman was hugely pleased at this symptom +of an understanding; for he smiled on both, and added sweetly: “If you +will give me your word of honour, Monsieur de Beaulieu, to await my +return at the end of the two hours before attempting anything +desperate, I shall withdraw my retainers, and let you speak in greater +privacy with mademoiselle.” + +Denis again glanced at the girl, who seemed to beseech him to agree. + +“I give you my word of honour,” he said. + +Messire de Malétroit bowed, and proceeded to limp about the apartment, +clearing his throat the while with that odd musical chirp which had +already grown so irritating in the ears of Denis de Beaulieu. He first +possessed himself of some papers which lay upon the table; then he went +to the mouth of the passage and appeared to give an order to the men +behind the arras; and lastly he hobbled out through the door by which +Denis had come in, turning upon the threshold to address a last smiling +bow to the young couple, and followed by the chaplain with a hand-lamp. + +No sooner were they alone than Blanche advanced towards Denis with her +hands extended. Her face was flushed and excited, and her eyes shone +with tears. + +“You shall not die!” she cried, “you shall marry me after all.” + +“You seem to think, madam,” replied Denis, “that I stand much in fear +of death.” + +“Oh no, no,” she said, “I see you are no poltroon. It is for my own +sake—I could not bear to have you slain for such a scruple.” + +“I am afraid,” returned Denis, “that you underrate the difficulty, +madam. What you may be too generous to refuse, I may be too proud to +accept. In a moment of noble feeling towards me, you forgot what you +perhaps owe to others.” + +He had the decency to keep his eyes upon the floor as he said this, and +after he had finished, so as not to spy upon her confusion. She stood +silent for a moment, then walked suddenly away, and falling on her +uncle’s chair, fairly burst out sobbing. Denis was in the acme of +embarrassment. He looked round, as if to seek for inspiration, and +seeing a stool, plumped down upon it for something to do. There he sat, +playing with the guard of his rapier, and wishing himself dead a +thousand times over, and buried in the nastiest kitchen-heap in France. +His eyes wandered round the apartment, but found nothing to arrest +them. There were such wide spaces between the furniture, the light fell +so baldly and cheerlessly over all, the dark outside air looked in so +coldly through the windows, that he thought he had never seen a church +so vast, nor a tomb so melancholy. The regular sobs of Blanche de +Malétroit measured out the time like the ticking of a clock. He read +the device upon the shield over and over again, until his eyes became +obscured; he stared into shadowy corners until he imagined they were +swarming with horrible animals; and every now and again he awoke with a +start, to remember that his last two hours were running, and death was +on the march. + +Oftener and oftener, as the time went on, did his glance settle on the +girl herself. Her face was bowed forward and covered with her hands, +and she was shaken at intervals by the convulsive hiccup of grief. Even +thus she was not an unpleasant object to dwell upon, so plump and yet +so fine, with a warm brown skin, and the most beautiful hair, Denis +thought, in the whole world of womankind. Her hands were like her +uncle’s; but they were more in place at the end of her young arms, and +looked infinitely soft and caressing. He remembered how her blue eyes +had shone upon him, full of anger, pity, and innocence. And the more he +dwelt on her perfections, the uglier death looked, and the more deeply +was he smitten with penitence at her continued tears. Now he felt that +no man could have the courage to leave a world which contained so +beautiful a creature; and now he would have given forty minutes of his +last hour to have unsaid his cruel speech. + +Suddenly a hoarse and ragged peal of cockcrow rose to their ears from +the dark valley below the windows. And this shattering noise in the +silence of all around was like a light in a dark place, and shook them +both out of their reflections. + +“Alas, can I do nothing to help you?” she said, looking up. + +“Madam,” replied Denis, with a fine irrelevancy, “if I have said +anything to wound you, believe me, it was for your own sake and not for +mine.” + +She thanked him with a tearful look. + +“I feel your position cruelly,” he went on. “The world has been bitter +hard on you. Your uncle is a disgrace to mankind. Believe me, madam, +there is no young gentleman in all France but would be glad of my +opportunity, to die in doing you a momentary service.” + +“I know already that you can be very brave and generous,” she answered. +“What I _want_ to know is whether I can serve you—now or afterwards,” +she added, with a quaver. + +“Most certainly,” he answered with a smile. “Let me sit beside you as +if I were a friend, instead of a foolish intruder; try to forget how +awkwardly we are placed to one another; make my last moments go +pleasantly; and you will do me the chief service possible.” + +“You are very gallant,” she added, with a yet deeper sadness . . . +“very gallant . . . and it somehow pains me. But draw nearer, if you +please; and if you find anything to say to me, you will at least make +certain of a very friendly listener. Ah! Monsieur de Beaulieu,” she +broke forth—“ah! Monsieur de Beaulieu, how can I look you in the face?” +And she fell to weeping again with a renewed effusion. + +“Madam,” said Denis, taking her hand in both of his, “reflect on the +little time I have before me, and the great bitterness into which I am +cast by the sight of your distress. Spare me, in my last moments, the +spectacle of what I cannot cure even with the sacrifice of my life.” + +“I am very selfish,” answered Blanche. “I will be braver, Monsieur de +Beaulieu, for your sake. But think if I can do you no kindness in the +future—if you have no friends to whom I could carry your adieux. Charge +me as heavily as you can; every burden will lighten, by so little, the +invaluable gratitude I owe you. Put it in my power to do something more +for you than weep.” + +“My mother is married again, and has a young family to care for. My +brother Guichard will inherit my fiefs; and if I am not in error, that +will content him amply for my death. Life is a little vapour that +passeth away, as we are told by those in holy orders. When a man is in +a fair way and sees all life open in front of him, he seems to himself +to make a very important figure in the world. His horse whinnies to +him; the trumpets blow and the girls look out of window as he rides +into town before his company; he receives many assurances of trust and +regard—sometimes by express in a letter—sometimes face to face, with +persons of great consequence falling on his neck. It is not wonderful +if his head is turned for a time. But once he is dead, were he as brave +as Hercules or as wise as Solomon, he is soon forgotten. It is not ten +years since my father fell, with many other knights around him, in a +very fierce encounter, and I do not think that any one of them, nor so +much as the name of the fight, is now remembered. No, no, madam, the +nearer you come to it, you see that death is a dark and dusty corner, +where a man gets into his tomb and has the door shut after him till the +judgment day. I have few friends just now, and once I am dead I shall +have none.” + +“Ah, Monsieur de Beaulieu!” she exclaimed, “you forget Blanche de +Malétroit.” + +“You have a sweet nature, madam, and you are pleased to estimate a +little service far beyond its worth.” + +“It is not that,” she answered. “You mistake me if you think I am so +easily touched by my own concerns. I say so, because you are the +noblest man I have ever met; because I recognise in you a spirit that +would have made even a common person famous in the land.” + +“And yet here I die in a mouse-trap—with no more noise about it than my +own squeaking,” answered he. + +A look of pain crossed her face, and she was silent for a little while. +Then a fight came into her eyes, and with a smile she spoke again. + +“I cannot have my champion think meanly of himself. Any one who gives +his life for another will be met in Paradise by all the heralds and +angels of the Lord God. And you have no such cause to hang your head. +For . . . Pray, do you think me beautiful?” she asked, with a deep +flush. + +“Indeed, madam, I do,” he said. + +“I am glad of that,” she answered heartily. “Do you think there are +many men in France who have been asked in marriage by a beautiful +maiden—with her own lips—and who have refused her to her face? I know +you men would half despise such a triumph; but believe me, we women +know more of what is precious in love. There is nothing that should set +a person higher in his own esteem; and we women would prize nothing +more dearly.” + +“You are very good,” he said; “but you cannot make me forget that I was +asked in pity and not for love.” + +“I am not so sure of that,” she replied, holding down her head. “Hear +me to an end, Monsieur de Beaulieu. I know how you must despise me; I +feel you are right to do so; I am too poor a creature to occupy one +thought of your mind, although, alas! you must die for me this morning. +But when I asked you to marry me, indeed, and indeed, it was because I +respected and admired you, and loved you with my whole soul, from the +very moment that you took my part against my uncle. If you had seen +yourself, and how noble you looked, you would pity rather than despise +me. And now,” she went on, hurriedly checking him with her hand, +“although I have laid aside all reserve and told you so much, remember +that I know your sentiments towards me already. I would not, believe +me, being nobly born, weary you with importunities into consent. I too +have a pride of my own: and I declare before the holy mother of God, if +you should now go back from your word already given, I would no more +marry you than I would marry my uncle’s groom.” + +Denis smiled a little bitterly. + +“It is a small love,” he said, “that shies at a little pride.” + +She made no answer, although she probably had her own thoughts. + +“Come hither to the window,” he said, with a sigh. “Here is the dawn.” + +And indeed the dawn was already beginning. The hollow of the sky was +full of essential daylight, colourless and clean; and the valley +underneath was flooded with a grey reflection. A few thin vapours clung +in the coves of the forest or lay along the winding course of the +river. The scene disengaged a surprising effect of stillness, which was +hardly interrupted when the cocks began once more to crow among the +steadings. Perhaps the same fellow who had made so horrid a clangour in +the darkness not half-an-hour before, now sent up the merriest cheer to +greet the coming day. A little wind went bustling and eddying among the +tree-tops underneath the windows. And still the daylight kept flooding +insensibly out of the east, which was soon to grow incandescent and +cast up that red-hot cannon-ball, the rising sun. + +Denis looked out over all this with a bit of a shiver. He had taken her +hand, and retained it in his almost unconsciously. + +“Has the day begun already?” she said; and then, illogically enough: +“the night has been so long! Alas, what shall we say to my uncle when +he returns?” + +“What you will,” said Denis, and he pressed her fingers in his. + +She was silent. + +“Blanche,” he said, with a swift, uncertain, passionate utterance, “you +have seen whether I fear death. You must know well enough that I would +as gladly leap out of that window into the empty air as lay a finger on +you without your free and full consent. But if you care for me at all +do not let me lose my life in a misapprehension; for I love you better +than the whole world; and though I will die for you blithely, it would +be like all the joys of Paradise to live on and spend my life in your +service.” + +As he stopped speaking, a bell began to ring loudly in the interior of +the house; and a clatter of armour in the corridor showed that the +retainers were returning to their post, and the two hours were at an +end. + +“After all that you have heard?” she whispered, leaning towards him +with her lips and eyes. + +“I have heard nothing,” he replied. + +“The captain’s name was Florimond de Champdivers,” she said in his ear. + +“I did not hear it,” he answered, taking her supple body in his arms +and covering her wet face with kisses. + +A melodious chirping was audible behind, followed by a beautiful +chuckle, and the voice of Messire de Malétroit wished his new nephew a +good morning. + + + + +PROVIDENCE AND THE GUITAR + + + + +CHAPTER I + + +Monsieur Léon Berthelini had a great care of his appearance, and +sedulously suited his deportment to the costume of the hour. He +affected something Spanish in his air, and something of the bandit, +with a flavour of Rembrandt at home. In person he was decidedly small +and inclined to be stout; his face was the picture of good humour; his +dark eyes, which were very expressive, told of a kind heart, a brisk, +merry nature, and the most indefatigable spirits. If he had worn the +clothes of the period you would have set him down for a hitherto +undiscovered hybrid between the barber, the innkeeper, and the affable +dispensing chemist. But in the outrageous bravery of velvet jacket and +flapped hat, with trousers that were more accurately described as +fleshings, a white handkerchief cavalierly knotted at his neck, a shock +of Olympian curls upon his brow, and his feet shod through all weathers +in the slenderest of Molière shoes—you had but to look at him and you +knew you were in the presence of a Great Creature. When he wore an +overcoat he scorned to pass the sleeves; a single button held it round +his shoulders; it was tossed backwards after the manner of a cloak, and +carried with the gait and presence of an Almaviva. I am of opinion that +M. Berthelini was nearing forty. But he had a boy’s heart, gloried in +his finery, and walked through life like a child in a perpetual +dramatic performance. If he were not Almaviva after all, it was not for +lack of making believe. And he enjoyed the artist’s compensation. If he +were not really Almaviva, he was sometimes just as happy as though he +were. + +I have seen him, at moments when he has fancied himself alone with his +Maker, adopt so gay and chivalrous a bearing, and represent his own +part with so much warmth and conscience, that the illusion became +catching, and I believed implicitly in the Great Creature’s pose. + +But, alas! life cannot be entirely conducted on these principles; man +cannot live by Almavivery alone; and the Great Creature, having failed +upon several theatres, was obliged to step down every evening from his +heights, and sing from half-a-dozen to a dozen comic songs, twang a +guitar, keep a country audience in good humour, and preside finally +over the mysteries of a tombola. + +Madame Berthelini, who was art and part with him in these undignified +labours, had perhaps a higher position in the scale of beings, and +enjoyed a natural dignity of her own. But her heart was not any more +rightly placed, for that would have been impossible; and she had +acquired a little air of melancholy, attractive enough in its way, but +not good to see like the wholesome, sky-scraping, boyish spirits of her +lord. + +He, indeed, swam like a kite on a fair wind, high above earthly +troubles. Detonations of temper were not unfrequent in the zones he +travelled; but sulky fogs and tearful depressions were there alike +unknown. A well-delivered blow upon a table, or a noble attitude, +imitated from Mélingne or Frederic, relieved his irritation like a +vengeance. Though the heaven had fallen, if he had played his part with +propriety, Berthelini had been content! And the man’s atmosphere, if +not his example, reacted on his wife; for the couple doated on each +other, and although you would have thought they walked in different +worlds, yet continued to walk hand in hand. + +It chanced one day that Monsieur and Madame Berthelini descended with +two boxes and a guitar in a fat case at the station of the little town +of Castel-le-Gâchis, and the omnibus carried them with their effects to +the Hotel of the Black Head. This was a dismal, conventual building in +a narrow street, capable of standing siege when once the gates were +shut, and smelling strangely in the interior of straw and chocolate and +old feminine apparel. Berthelini paused upon the threshold with a +painful premonition. In some former state, it seemed to him, he had +visited a hostelry that smelt not otherwise, and been ill received. + +The landlord, a tragic person in a large felt hat, rose from a business +table under the key-rack, and came forward, removing his hat with both +hands as he did so. + +“Sir, I salute you. May I inquire what is your charge for artists?” +inquired Berthelini, with a courtesy at once splendid and insinuating. + +“For artists?” said the landlord. His countenance fell and the smile of +welcome disappeared. “Oh, artists!” he added brutally; “four francs a +day.” And he turned his back upon these inconsiderable customers. + +A commercial traveller is received, he also, upon a reduction—yet is he +welcome, yet can he command the fatted calf; but an artist, had he the +manners of an Almaviva, were he dressed like Solomon in all his glory, +is received like a dog and served like a timid lady travelling alone. + +Accustomed as he was to the rubs of his profession, Berthelini was +unpleasantly affected by the landlord’s manner. + +“Elvira,” said he to his wife, “mark my words: Castel-le-Gâchis is a +tragic folly.” + +“Wait till we see what we take,” replied Elvira. + +“We shall take nothing,” returned Berthelini; “we shall feed upon +insults. I have an eye, Elvira: I have a spirit of divination; and this +place is accursed. The landlord has been discourteous, the Commissary +will be brutal, the audience will be sordid and uproarious, and you +will take a cold upon your throat. We have been besotted enough to +come; the die is cast—it will be a second Sédan.” + +Sédan was a town hateful to the Berthelinis, not only from patriotism +(for they were French, and answered after the flesh to the somewhat +homely name of Duval), but because it had been the scene of their most +sad reverses. In that place they had lain three weeks in pawn for their +hotel bill, and had it not been for a surprising stroke of fortune they +might have been lying there in pawn until this day. To mention the name +of Sédan was for the Berthelinis to dip the brush in earthquake and +eclipse. Count Almaviva slouched his hat with a gesture expressive of +despair, and even Elvira felt as if ill-fortune had been personally +invoked. + +“Let us ask for breakfast,” said she, with a woman’s tact. + +The Commissary of Police of Castel-le-Gâchis was a large red +Commissary, pimpled, and subject to a strong cutaneous transpiration. I +have repeated the name of his office because he was so very much more a +Commissary than a man. The spirit of his dignity had entered into him. +He carried his corporation as if it were something official. Whenever +he insulted a common citizen it seemed to him as if he were adroitly +flattering the Government by a side wind; in default of dignity he was +brutal from an overweening sense of duty. His office was a den, whence +passers-by could hear rude accents laying down, not the law, but the +good pleasure of the Commissary. + +Six several times in the course of the day did M. Berthelini hurry +thither in quest of the requisite permission for his evening’s +entertainment; six several times he found the official was abroad. Léon +Berthelini began to grow quite a familiar figure in the streets of +Castel-le-Gâchis; he became a local celebrity, and was pointed out as +“the man who was looking for the Commissary.” Idle children attached +themselves to his footsteps, and trotted after him back and forward +between the hotel and the office. Léon might try as he liked; he might +roll cigarettes, he might straddle, he might cock his hat at a dozen +different jaunty inclinations—the part of Almaviva was, under the +circumstances, difficult to play. + +As he passed the market-place upon the seventh excursion the Commissary +was pointed out to him, where he stood, with his waistcoat unbuttoned +and his hands behind his back, to superintend the sale and measurement +of butter. Berthelini threaded his way through the market stalls and +baskets, and accosted the dignitary with a bow which was a triumph of +the histrionic art. + +“I have the honour,” he asked, “of meeting M. le Commissaire?” + +The Commissary was affected by the nobility of his address. He excelled +Léon in the depth if not in the airy grace of his salutation. + +“The honour,” said he, “is mine!” + +“I am,” continued the strolling-player, “I am, sir, an artist, and I +have permitted myself to interrupt you on an affair of business. +To-night I give a trifling musical entertainment at the Café of the +Triumphs of the Plough—permit me to offer you this little programme—and +I have come to ask you for the necessary authorisation.” + +At the word “artist,” the Commissary had replaced his hat with the air +of a person who, having condescended too far, should suddenly remember +the duties of his rank. + +“Go, go,” said he, “I am busy—I am measuring butter.” + +“Heathen Jew!” thought Léon. “Permit me, sir,” he resumed aloud. “I +have gone six times already—” + +“Put up your bills if you choose,” interrupted the Commissary. “In an +hour or so I will examine your papers at the office. But now go; I am +busy.” + +“Measuring butter!” thought Berthelini. “Oh, France, and it is for this +that we made ’93!” + +The preparations were soon made; the bills posted, programmes laid on +the dinner-table of every hotel in the town, and a stage erected at one +end of the Café of the Triumphs of the Plough; but when Léon returned +to the office, the Commissary was once more abroad. + +“He is like Madame Benoîton,” thought Léon, “Fichu Commissaire!” + +And just then he met the man face to face. + +“Here, sir,” said he, “are my papers. Will you be pleased to verify?” + +But the Commissary was now intent upon dinner. + +“No use,” he replied, “no use; I am busy; I am quite satisfied. Give +your entertainment.” + +And he hurried on. + +“Fichu Commissaire!” thought Léon. + + + + +CHAPTER II + + +The audience was pretty large; and the proprietor of the café made a +good thing of it in beer. But the Berthelinis exerted themselves in +vain. + +Léon was radiant in velveteen; he had a rakish way of smoking a +cigarette between his songs that was worth money in itself; he +underlined his comic points, so that the dullest numskull in +Castel-le-Gâchis had a notion when to laugh; and he handled his guitar +in a manner worthy of himself. Indeed his play with that instrument was +as good as a whole romantic drama; it was so dashing, so florid, and so +cavalier. + +Elvira, on the other hand, sang her patriotic and romantic songs with +more than usual expression; her voice had charm and plangency; and as +Léon looked at her, in her low-bodied maroon dress, with her arms bare +to the shoulder, and a red flower set provocatively in her corset, he +repeated to himself for the many hundredth time that she was one of the +loveliest creatures in the world of women. + +Alas! when she went round with the tambourine, the golden youth of +Castel-le-Gâchis turned from her coldly. Here and there a single +halfpenny was forthcoming; the net result of a collection never +exceeded half a franc; and the Maire himself, after seven different +applications, had contributed exactly twopence. A certain chill began +to settle upon the artists themselves; it seemed as if they were +singing to slugs; Apollo himself might have lost heart with such an +audience. The Berthelinis struggled against the impression; they put +their back into their work, they sang loud and louder, the guitar +twanged like a living thing; and at last Léon arose in his might, and +burst with inimitable conviction into his great song, “Y a des honnêtes +gens partout!” Never had he given more proof of his artistic mastery; +it was his intimate, indefeasible conviction that Castel-le-Gâchis +formed an exception to the law he was now lyrically proclaiming, and +was peopled exclusively by thieves and bullies; and yet, as I say, he +flung it down like a challenge, he trolled it forth like an article of +faith; and his face so beamed the while that you would have thought he +must make converts of the benches. + +He was at the top of his register, with his head thrown back and his +mouth open, when the door was thrown violently open, and a pair of new +comers marched noisily into the café. It was the Commissary, followed +by the Garde Champêtre. + +The undaunted Berthelini still continued to proclaim, “Y a des honnêtes +gens partout!” But now the sentiment produced an audible titter among +the audience. Berthelini wondered why; he did not know the antecedents +of the Garde Champêtre; he had never heard of a little story about +postage stamps. But the public knew all about the postage stamps and +enjoyed the coincidence hugely. + +The Commissary planted himself upon a vacant chair with somewhat the +air of Cromwell visiting the Rump, and spoke in occasional whispers to +the Garde Champêtre, who remained respectfully standing at his back. +The eyes of both were directed upon Berthelini, who persisted in his +statement. + +“Y a des honnêtes gens partout,” he was just chanting for the twentieth +time; when up got the Commissary upon his feet and waved brutally to +the singer with his cane. + +“Is it me you want?” inquired Léon, stopping in his song. + +“It is you,” replied the potentate. + +“Fichu Commissaire!” thought Léon, and he descended from the stage and +made his way to the functionary. + +“How does it happen, sir,” said the Commissary, swelling in person, +“that I find you mountebanking in a public café without my permission?” + +“Without?” cried the indignant Léon. “Permit me to remind you—” + +“Come, come, sir!” said the Commissary, “I desire no explanations.” + +“I care nothing about what you desire,” returned the singer. “I choose +to give them, and I will not be gagged. I am an artist, sir, a +distinction that you cannot comprehend. I received your permission and +stand here upon the strength of it; interfere with me who dare.” + +“You have not got my signature, I tell you,” cried the Commissary. +“Show me my signature! Where is my signature?” + +That was just the question; where was his signature? Léon recognised +that he was in a hole; but his spirit rose with the occasion, and he +blustered nobly, tossing back his curls. The Commissary played up to +him in the character of tyrant; and as the one leaned farther forward, +the other leaned farther back—majesty confronting fury. The audience +had transferred their attention to this new performance, and listened +with that silent gravity common to all Frenchmen in the neighbourhood +of the Police. Elvira had sat down, she was used to these distractions, +and it was rather melancholy than fear that now oppressed her. + +“Another word,” cried the Commissary, “and I arrest you.” + +“Arrest me?” shouted Léon. “I defy you!” + +“I am the Commissary of Police,” said the official. + +Léon commanded his feelings, and replied, with great delicacy of +innuendo— + +“So it would appear.” + +The point was too refined for Castel-le-Gâchis; it did not raise a +smile; and as for the Commissary, he simply bade the singer follow him +to his office, and directed his proud footsteps towards the door. There +was nothing for it but to obey. Léon did so with a proper pantomime of +indifference, but it was a leek to eat, and there was no denying it. + +The Maire had slipped out and was already waiting at the Commissary’s +door. Now the Maire, in France, is the refuge of the oppressed. He +stands between his people and the boisterous rigours of the Police. He +can sometimes understand what is said to him; he is not always puffed +up beyond measure by his dignity. ’Tis a thing worth the knowledge of +travellers. When all seems over, and a man has made up his mind to +injustice, he has still, like the heroes of romance, a little bugle at +his belt whereon to blow; and the Maire, a comfortable _deus ex +machinâ_, may still descend to deliver him from the minions of the law. +The Maire of Castel-le-Gâchis, although inaccessible to the charms of +music as retailed by the Berthelinis, had no hesitation whatever as to +the rights of the matter. He instantly fell foul of the Commissary in +very high terms, and the Commissary, pricked by this humiliation, +accepted battle on the point of fact. The argument lasted some little +while with varying success, until at length victory inclined so plainly +to the Commissary’s side that the Maire was fain to reassert himself by +an exercise of authority. He had been out-argued, but he was still the +Maire. And so, turning from his interlocutor, he briefly but kindly +recommended Léon to get back instanter to his concert. + +“It is already growing late,” he added. + +Léon did not wait to be told twice. He returned to the Café of the +Triumphs of the Plough with all expedition. Alas! the audience had +melted away during his absence; Elvira was sitting in a very +disconsolate attitude on the guitar-box; she had watched the company +dispersing by twos and threes, and the prolonged spectacle had somewhat +overwhelmed her spirits. Each man, she reflected, retired with a +certain proportion of her earnings in his pocket, and she saw +to-night’s board and to-morrow’s railway expenses, and finally even +to-morrow’s dinner, walk one after another out of the café door and +disappear into the night. + +“What was it?” she asked languidly. But Léon did not answer. He was +looking round him on the scene of defeat. Scarce a score of listeners +remained, and these of the least promising sort. The minute hand of the +clock was already climbing upward towards eleven. + +“It’s a lost battle,” said he, and then taking up the money-box he +turned it out. “Three francs seventy-five!” he cried, “as against four +of board and six of railway fares; and no time for the tombola! Elvira, +this is Waterloo.” And he sat down and passed both hands desperately +among his curls. “O Fichu Commissaire!” he cried, “Fichu Commissaire!” + +“Let us get the things together and be off,” returned Elvira. “We might +try another song, but there is not six halfpence in the room.” + +“Six halfpence?” cried Léon, “six hundred thousand devils! There is not +a human creature in the town—nothing but pigs and dogs and +commissaires! Pray heaven, we get safe to bed.” + +“Don’t imagine things!” exclaimed Elvira, with a shudder. + +And with that they set to work on their preparations. The tobacco-jar, +the cigarette-holder, the three papers of shirt-studs, which were to +have been the prices of the tombola had the tombola come off, were made +into a bundle with the music; the guitar was stowed into the fat +guitar-case; and Elvira having thrown a thin shawl about her neck and +shoulders, the pair issued from the café and set off for the Black +Head. + +As they crossed the market-place the church bell rang out eleven. It +was a dark, mild night, and there was no one in the streets. + +“It is all very fine,” said Léon; “but I have a presentiment. The night +is not yet done.” + + + + +CHAPTER III + + +The “Black Head” presented not a single chink of light upon the street, +and the carriage gate was closed. + +“This is unprecedented,” observed Léon. “An inn closed by five minutes +after eleven! And there were several commercial travellers in the café +up to a late hour. Elvira, my heart misgives me. Let us ring the bell.” + +The bell had a potent note; and being swung under the arch it filled +the house from top to bottom with surly, clanging reverberations. The +sound accentuated the conventual appearance of the building; a wintry +sentiment, a thought of prayer and mortification, took hold upon +Elvira’s mind; and, as for Léon, he seemed to be reading the stage +directions for a lugubrious fifth act. + +“This is your fault,” said Elvira: “this is what comes of fancying +things!” + +Again Léon pulled the bell-rope; again the solemn tocsin awoke the +echoes of the inn; and ere they had died away, a light glimmered in the +carriage entrance, and a powerful voice was heard upraised and +tremulous with wrath. + +“What’s all this?” cried the tragic host through the spars of the gate. +“Hard upon twelve, and you come clamouring like Prussians at the door +of a respectable hotel? Oh!” he cried, “I know you now! Common singers! +People in trouble with the police! And you present yourselves at +midnight like lords and ladies? Be off with you!” + +“You will permit me to remind you,” replied Léon, in thrilling tones, +“that I am a guest in your house, that I am properly inscribed, and +that I have deposited baggage to the value of four hundred francs.” + +“You cannot get in at this hour,” returned the man. “This is no +thieves’ tavern, for mohocks and night rakes and organ-grinders.” + +“Brute!” cried Elvira, for the organ-grinders touched her home. + +“Then I demand my baggage,” said Léon, with unabated dignity. + +“I know nothing of your baggage,” replied the landlord. + +“You detain my baggage? You dare to detain my baggage?” cried the +singer. + +“Who are you?” returned the landlord. “It is dark—I cannot recognise +you.” + +“Very well, then—you detain my baggage,” concluded Léon. “You shall +smart for this. I will weary out your life with persecutions; I will +drag you from court to court; if there is justice to be had in France, +it shall be rendered between you and me. And I will make you a +by-word—I will put you in a song—a scurrilous song—an indecent song—a +popular song—which the boys shall sing to you in the street, and come +and howl through these spars at midnight!” + +He had gone on raising his voice at every phrase, for all the while the +landlord was very placidly retiring; and now, when the last glimmer of +light had vanished from the arch, and the last footstep died away in +the interior, Léon turned to his wife with a heroic countenance. + +“Elvira,” said he, “I have now a duty in life. I shall destroy that man +as Eugène Sue destroyed the concierge. Let us come at once to the +Gendarmerie and begin our vengeance.” + +He picked up the guitar-case, which had been propped against the wall, +and they set forth through the silent and ill-lighted town with burning +hearts. + +The Gendarmerie was concealed beside the telegraph office at the bottom +of a vast court, which was partly laid out in gardens; and here all the +shepherds of the public lay locked in grateful sleep. It took a deal of +knocking to waken one; and he, when he came at last to the door, could +find no other remark but that “it was none of his business.” Léon +reasoned with him, threatened him, besought him; “here,” he said, “was +Madame Berthelini in evening dress—a delicate woman—in an interesting +condition”—the last was thrown in, I fancy, for effect; and to all this +the man-at-arms made the same answer: + +“It is none of my business,” said he. + +“Very well,” said Léon, “then we shall go to the Commissary.” Thither +they went; the office was closed and dark; but the house was close by, +and Léon was soon swinging the bell like a madman. The Commissary’s +wife appeared at a window. She was a thread-paper creature, and +informed them that the Commissary had not yet come home. + +“Is he at the Maire’s?” demanded Léon. + +She thought that was not unlikely. + +“Where is the Maire’s house?” he asked. + +And she gave him some rather vague information on that point. + +“Stay you here, Elvira,” said Léon, “lest I should miss him by the way. +If, when I return, I find you here no longer, I shall follow at once to +the Black Head.” + +And he set out to find the Maire’s. It took him some ten minutes +wandering among blind lanes, and when he arrived it was already +half-an-hour past midnight. A long white garden wall overhung by some +thick chestnuts, a door with a letter-box, and an iron bell-pull, that +was all that could be seen of the Maire’s domicile. Léon took the +bell-pull in both hands, and danced furiously upon the side-walk. The +bell itself was just upon the other side of the wall, it responded to +his activity, and scattered an alarming clangour far and wide into the +night. + +A window was thrown open in a house across the street, and a voice +inquired the cause of this untimely uproar. + +“I wish the Maire,” said Léon. + +“He has been in bed this hour,” returned the voice. + +“He must get up again,” retorted Léon, and he was for tackling the +bell-pull once more. + +“You will never make him hear,” responded the voice. “The garden is of +great extent, the house is at the farther end, and both the Maire and +his housekeeper are deaf.” + +“Aha!” said Léon, pausing. “The Maire is deaf, is he? That explains.” +And he thought of the evening’s concert with a momentary feeling of +relief. “Ah!” he continued, “and so the Maire is deaf, and the garden +vast, and the house at the far end?” + +“And you might ring all night,” added the voice, “and be none the +better for it. You would only keep me awake.” + +“Thank you, neighbour,” replied the singer. “You shall sleep.” + +And he made off again at his best pace for the Commissary’s. Elvira was +still walking to and fro before the door. + +“He has not come?” asked Léon. + +“Not he,” she replied. + +“Good,” returned Léon. “I am sure our man’s inside. Let me see the +guitar-case. I shall lay this siege in form, Elvira; I am angry; I am +indignant; I am truculently inclined; but I thank my Maker I have still +a sense of fun. The unjust judge shall be importuned in a serenade, +Elvira. Set him up—and set him up.” + +He had the case opened by this time, struck a few chords, and fell into +an attitude which was irresistibly Spanish. + +“Now,” he continued, “feel your voice. Are you ready? Follow me!” + +The guitar twanged, and the two voices upraised, in harmony and with a +startling loudness, the chorus of a song of old Béranger’s:— + +“Commissaire! Commissaire! +Colin bat sa ménagère.” + + +The stones of Castel-le-Gâchis thrilled at this audacious innovation. +Hitherto had the night been sacred to repose and nightcaps; and now +what was this? Window after window was opened; matches scratched, and +candles began to flicker; swollen sleepy faces peered forth into the +starlight. There were the two figures before the Commissary’s house, +each bolt upright, with head thrown back and eyes interrogating the +starry heavens; the guitar wailed, shouted, and reverberated like half +an orchestra; and the voices, with a crisp and spirited delivery, +hurled the appropriate burden at the Commissary’s window. All the +echoes repeated the functionary’s name. It was more like an entr’acte +in a farce of Molière’s than a passage of real life in +Castel-le-Gâchis. + +The Commissary, if he was not the first, was not the last of the +neighbours to yield to the influence of music, and furiously throw open +the window of his bedroom. He was beside himself with rage. He leaned +far over the window-sill, raving and gesticulating; the tassel of his +white night-cap danced like a thing of life: he opened his mouth to +dimensions hitherto unprecedented, and yet his voice, instead of +escaping from it in a roar, came forth shrill and choked and tottering. +A little more serenading, and it was clear he would be better +acquainted with the apoplexy. + +I scorn to reproduce his language; he touched upon too many serious +topics by the way for a quiet story-teller. Although he was known for a +man who was prompt with his tongue, and had a power of strong +expression at command, he excelled himself so remarkably this night +that one maiden lady, who had got out of bed like the rest to hear the +serenade, was obliged to shut her window at the second clause. Even +what she had heard disquieted her conscience; and next day she said she +scarcely reckoned as a maiden lady any longer. + +Léon tried to explain his predicament, but he received nothing but +threats of arrest by way of answer. + +“If I come down to you!” cried the Commissary. + +“Aye,” said Léon, “do!” + +“I will not!” cried the Commissary. + +“You dare not!” answered Léon. + +At that the Commissary closed his window. + +“All is over,” said the singer. “The serenade was perhaps ill-judged. +These boors have no sense of humour.” + +“Let us get away from here,” said Elvira, with a shiver. “All these +people looking—it is so rude and so brutal.” And then giving way once +more to passion—“Brutes!” she cried aloud to the candle-lit +spectators—“brutes! brutes! brutes!” + +“Sauve qui peut,” said Léon. “You have done it now!” + +And taking the guitar in one hand and the case in the other, he led the +way with something too precipitate to be merely called precipitation +from the scene of this absurd adventure. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + + +To the west of Castel-le-Gâchis four rows of venerable lime-trees +formed, in this starry night, a twilit avenue with two side aisles of +pitch darkness. Here and there stone benches were disposed between the +trunks. There was not a breath of wind; a heavy atmosphere of perfume +hung about the alleys; and every leaf stood stock-still upon its twig. +Hither, after vainly knocking at an inn or two, the Berthelinis came at +length to pass the night. After an amiable contention, Léon insisted on +giving his coat to Elvira, and they sat down together on the first +bench in silence. Léon made a cigarette, which he smoked to an end, +looking up into the trees, and, beyond them, at the constellations, of +which he tried vainly to recall the names. The silence was broken by +the church bell; it rang the four quarters on a light and tinkling +measure; then followed a single deep stroke that died slowly away with +a thrill; and stillness resumed its empire. + +“One,” said Léon. “Four hours till daylight. It is warm; it is starry; +I have matches and tobacco. Do not let us exaggerate, Elvira—the +experience is positively charming. I feel a glow within me; I am born +again. This is the poetry of life. Think of Cooper’s novels, my dear.” + +“Léon,” she said fiercely, “how can you talk such wicked, infamous +nonsense? To pass all night out-of-doors—it is like a nightmare! We +shall die.” + +“You suffer yourself to be led away,” he replied soothingly. “It is not +unpleasant here; only you brood. Come, now, let us repeat a scene. +Shall we try Alceste and Célimène? No? Or a passage from the ‘Two +Orphans’? Come, now, it will occupy your mind; I will play up to you as +I never have played before; I feel art moving in my bones.” + +“Hold your tongue,” she cried, “or you will drive me mad! Will nothing +solemnise you—not even this hideous situation?” + +“Oh, hideous!” objected Léon. “Hideous is not the word. Why, where +would you be? ‘Dites, la jeune belle, où voulez-vous aller?’” he +carolled. “Well, now,” he went on, opening the guitar-case, “there’s +another idea for you—sing. Sing ‘Dites, la jeune belle!’ It will +compose your spirits, Elvira, I am sure.” + +And without waiting an answer he began to strum the symphony. The first +chords awoke a young man who was lying asleep upon a neighbouring +bench. + +“Hullo!” cried the young man, “who are you?” + +“Under which king, Bezonian?” declaimed the artist. “Speak or die!” + +Or if it was not exactly that, it was something to much the same +purpose from a French tragedy. + +The young man drew near in the twilight. He was a tall, powerful, +gentlemanly fellow, with a somewhat puffy face, dressed in a grey tweed +suit, with a deer-stalker hat of the same material; and as he now came +forward he carried a knapsack slung upon one arm. + +“Are you camping out here too?” he asked, with a strong English accent. +“I’m not sorry for company.” + +Léon explained their misadventure; and the other told them that he was +a Cambridge undergraduate on a walking tour, that he had run short of +money, could no longer pay for his night’s lodging, had already been +camping out for two nights, and feared he should require to continue +the same manœuvre for at least two nights more. + +“Luckily, it’s jolly weather,” he concluded. + +“You hear that, Elvira,” said Léon. “Madame Berthelini,” he went on, +“is ridiculously affected by this trifling occurrence. For my part, I +find it romantic and far from uncomfortable; or at least,” he added, +shifting on the stone bench, “not quite so uncomfortable as might have +been expected. But pray be seated.” + +“Yes,” returned the undergraduate, sitting down, “it’s rather nice than +otherwise when once you’re used to it; only it’s devilish difficult to +get washed. I like the fresh air and these stars and things.” + +“Aha!” said Léon, “Monsieur is an artist.” + +“An artist?” returned the other, with a blank stare. “Not if I know +it!” + +“Pardon me,” said the actor. “What you said this moment about the orbs +of heaven—” + +“Oh, nonsense!” cried the Englishman. “A fellow may admire the stars +and be anything he likes.” + +“You have an artist’s nature, however, Mr.—I beg your pardon; may I, +without indiscretion, inquire your name?” asked Léon. + +“My name is Stubbs,” replied the Englishman. + +“I thank you,” returned Léon. “Mine is Berthelini—Léon Berthelini, +ex-artist of the theatres of Montrouge, Belleville, and Montmartre. +Humble as you see me, I have created with applause more than one +important _rôle_. The Press were unanimous in praise of my Howling +Devil of the Mountains, in the piece of the same name. Madame, whom I +now present to you, is herself an artist, and I must not omit to state, +a better artist than her husband. She also is a creator; she created +nearly twenty successful songs at one of the principal Parisian +music-halls. But, to continue, I was saying you had an artist’s nature, +Monsieur Stubbs, and you must permit me to be a judge in such a +question. I trust you will not falsify your instincts; let me beseech +you to follow the career of an artist.” + +“Thank you,” returned Stubbs, with a chuckle. “I’m going to be a +banker.” + +“No,” said Léon, “do not say so. Not that. A man with such a nature as +yours should not derogate so far. What are a few privations here and +there, so long as you are working for a high and noble goal?” + +“This fellow’s mad,” thought Stubbs; “but the woman’s rather pretty, +and he’s not bad fun himself, if you come to that.” What he said was +different. “I thought you said you were an actor?” + +“I certainly did so,” replied Léon. “I am one, or, alas! I was.” + +“And so you want me to be an actor, do you?” continued the +undergraduate. “Why, man, I could never so much as learn the stuff; my +memory’s like a sieve; and as for acting, I’ve no more idea than a +cat.” + +“The stage is not the only course,” said Léon. “Be a sculptor, be a +dancer, be a poet or a novelist; follow your heart, in short, and do +some thorough work before you die.” + +“And do you call all these things _art_?” inquired Stubbs. + +“Why, certainly!” returned Léon. “Are they not all branches?” + +“Oh! I didn’t know,” replied the Englishman. “I thought an artist meant +a fellow who painted.” + +The singer stared at him in some surprise. + +“It is the difference of language,” he said at last. “This Tower of +Babel, when shall we have paid for it? If I could speak English you +would follow me more readily.” + +“Between you and me, I don’t believe I should,” replied the other. “You +seem to have thought a devil of a lot about this business. For my part, +I admire the stars, and like to have them shining—it’s so cheery—but +hang me if I had an idea it had anything to do with art! It’s not in my +line, you see. I’m not intellectual; I have no end of trouble to scrape +through my exams., I can tell you! But I’m not a bad sort at bottom,” +he added, seeing his interlocutor looked distressed even in the dim +starshine, “and I rather like the play, and music, and guitars, and +things.” + +Léon had a perception that the understanding was incomplete. He changed +the subject. + +“And so you travel on foot?” he continued. “How romantic! How +courageous! And how are you pleased with my land? How does the scenery +affect you among these wild hills of ours?” + +“Well, the fact is,” began Stubbs—he was about to say that he didn’t +care for scenery, which was not at all true, being, on the contrary, +only an athletic undergraduate pretension; but he had begun to suspect +that Berthelini liked a different sort of meat, and substituted +something else—“The fact is, I think it jolly. They told me it was no +good up here; even the guide-book said so; but I don’t know what they +meant. I think it is deuced pretty—upon my word, I do.” + +At this moment, in the most unexpected manner, Elvira burst into tears. + +“My voice!” she cried. “Léon, if I stay here longer I shall lose my +voice!” + +“You shall not stay another moment,” cried the actor. “If I have to +beat in a door, if I have to burn the town, I shall find you shelter.” + +With that he replaced the guitar, and comforting her with some +caresses, drew her arm through his. + +“Monsieur Stubbs,” said he, taking of his hat, “the reception I offer +you is rather problematical; but let me beseech you to give us the +pleasure of your society. You are a little embarrassed for the moment; +you must, indeed, permit me to advance what may be necessary. I ask it +as a favour; we must not part so soon after having met so strangely.” + +“Oh, come, you know,” said Stubbs, “I can’t let a fellow like you—” And +there he paused, feeling somehow or other on a wrong tack. + +“I do not wish to employ menaces,” continued Léon, with a smile; “but +if you refuse, indeed I shall not take it kindly.” + +“I don’t quite see my way out of it,” thought the undergraduate; and +then, after a pause, he said, aloud and ungraciously enough, “All +right. I—I’m very much obliged, of course.” And he proceeded to follow +them, thinking in his heart, “But it’s bad form, all the same, to force +an obligation on a fellow.” + + + + +CHAPTER V + + +Léon strode ahead as if he knew exactly where he was going; the sobs of +Madame were still faintly audible, and no one uttered a word. A dog +barked furiously in a courtyard as they went by; then the church clock +struck two, and many domestic clocks followed or preceded it in piping +tones. And just then Berthelini spied a light. It burned in a small +house on the outskirts of the town, and thither the party now directed +their steps. + +“It is always a chance,” said Léon. + +The house in question stood back from the street behind an open space, +part garden, part turnip-field; and several outhouses stood forward +from either wing at right angles to the front. One of these had +recently undergone some change. An enormous window, looking towards the +north, had been effected in the wall and roof, and Léon began to hope +it was a studio. + +“If it’s only a painter,” he said with a chuckle, “ten to one we get as +good a welcome as we want.” + +“I thought painters were principally poor,” said Stubbs. + +“Ah!” cried Léon, “you do not know the world as I do. The poorer the +better for us!” + +And the trio advanced into the turnip-field. + +The light was in the ground floor; as one window was brightly +illuminated and two others more faintly, it might be supposed that +there was a single lamp in one corner of a large apartment; and a +certain tremulousness and temporary dwindling showed that a live fire +contributed to the effect. The sound of a voice now became audible; and +the trespassers paused to listen. It was pitched in a high, angry key, +but had still a good, full, and masculine note in it. The utterance was +voluble, too voluble even to be quite distinct; a stream of words, +rising and falling, with ever and again a phrase thrown out by itself, +as if the speaker reckoned on its virtue. + +Suddenly another voice joined in. This time it was a woman’s; and if +the man were angry, the woman was incensed to the degree of fury. There +was that absolutely blank composure known to suffering males; that +colourless unnatural speech which shows a spirit accurately balanced +between homicide and hysterics; the tone in which the best of women +sometimes utter words worse than death to those most dear to them. If +Abstract Bones-and-Sepulchre were to be endowed with the gift of +speech, thus, and not otherwise, would it discourse. Léon was a brave +man, and I fear he was somewhat sceptically given (he had been educated +in a Papistical country), but the habit of childhood prevailed, and he +crossed himself devoutly. He had met several women in his career. It +was obvious that his instinct had not deceived him, for the male voice +broke forth instantly in a towering passion. + +The undergraduate, who had not understood the significance of the +woman’s contribution, pricked up his ears at the change upon the man. + +“There’s going to be a free fight,” he opined. + +There was another retort from the woman, still calm but a little +higher. + +“Hysterics?” asked Léon of his wife. “Is that the stage direction?” + +“How should I know?” returned Elvira, somewhat tartly. + +“Oh, woman, woman!” said Léon, beginning to open the guitar-case. “It +is one of the burdens of my life, Monsieur Stubbs; they support each +other; they always pretend there is no system; they say it’s nature. +Even Madame Berthelini, who is a dramatic artist!” + +“You are heartless, Léon,” said Elvira; “that woman is in trouble.” + +“And the man, my angel?” inquired Berthelini, passing the ribbon of his +guitar. “And the man, _m’amour_?” + +“He is a man,” she answered. + +“You hear that?” said Léon to Stubbs. “It is not too late for you. Mark +the intonation. And now,” he continued, “what are we to give them?” + +“Are you going to sing?” asked Stubbs. + +“I am a troubadour,” replied Léon. “I claim a welcome by and for my +art. If I were a banker could I do as much?” + +“Well, you wouldn’t need, you know,” answered the undergraduate. + +“Egad,” said Léon, “but that’s true. Elvira, that is true.” + +“Of course it is,” she replied. “Did you not know it?” + +“My dear,” answered Léon impressively, “I know nothing but what is +agreeable. Even my knowledge of life is a work of art superiorly +composed. But what are we to give them? It should be something +appropriate.” + +Visions of “Let dogs delight” passed through the undergraduate’s mind; +but it occurred to him that the poetry was English and that he did not +know the air. Hence he contributed no suggestion. + +“Something about our houselessness,” said Elvira. + +“I have it,” cried Léon. And he broke forth into a song of Pierre +Dupont’s:— + +“Savez-vous où gite, +Mai, ce joli mois?” + + +Elvira joined in; so did Stubbs, with a good ear and voice, but an +imperfect acquaintance with the music. Léon and the guitar were equal +to the situation. The actor dispensed his throat-notes with prodigality +and enthusiasm; and, as he looked up to heaven in his heroic way, +tossing the black ringlets, it seemed to him that the very stars +contributed a dumb applause to his efforts, and the universe lent him +its silence for a chorus. That is one of the best features of the +heavenly bodies, that they belong to everybody in particular; and a man +like Léon, a chronic Endymion who managed to get along without +encouragement, is always the world’s centre for himself. + +He alone—and it is to be noted, he was the worst singer of the +three—took the music seriously to heart, and judged the serenade from a +high artistic point of view. Elvira, on the other hand, was preoccupied +about their reception; and, as for Stubbs, he considered the whole +affair in the light of a broad joke. + +“Know you the lair of May, the lovely month?” went the three voices in +the turnip-field. + +The inhabitants were plainly fluttered; the light moved to and fro, +strengthening in one window, paling in another; and then the door was +thrown open, and a man in a blouse appeared on the threshold carrying a +lamp. He was a powerful young fellow, with bewildered hair and beard, +wearing his neck open; his blouse was stained with oil-colours in a +harlequinesque disorder; and there was something rural in the droop and +bagginess of his belted trousers. + +From immediately behind him, and indeed over his shoulder, a woman’s +face looked out into the darkness; it was pale and a little weary, +although still young; it wore a dwindling, disappearing prettiness, +soon to be quite gone, and the expression was both gentle and sour, and +reminded one faintly of the taste of certain drugs. For all that, it +was not a face to dislike; when the prettiness had vanished, it seemed +as if a certain pale beauty might step in to take its place; and as +both the mildness and the asperity were characters of youth, it might +be hoped that, with years, both would merge into a constant, brave, and +not unkindly temper. + +“What is all this?” cried the man. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + + +Léon had his hat in his hand at once. He came forward with his +customary grace; it was a moment which would have earned him a round of +cheering on the stage. Elvira and Stubbs advanced behind him, like a +couple of Admetus’s sheep following the god Apollo. + +“Sir,” said Léon, “the hour is unpardonably late, and our little +serenade has the air of an impertinence. Believe me, sir, it is an +appeal. Monsieur is an artist, I perceive. We are here three artists +benighted and without shelter, one a woman—a delicate woman—in evening +dress—in an interesting situation. This will not fail to touch the +woman’s heart of Madame, whom I perceive indistinctly behind Monsieur +her husband, and whose face speaks eloquently of a well-regulated mind. +Ah! Monsieur, Madame—one generous movement, and you make three people +happy! Two or three hours beside your fire—I ask it of Monsieur in the +name of Art—I ask it of Madame by the sanctity of womanhood.” + +The two, as by a tacit consent, drew back from the door. + +“Come in,” said the man. + +“Entrez, Madame,” said the woman. + +The door opened directly upon the kitchen of the house, which was to +all appearance the only sitting-room. The furniture was both plain and +scanty; but there were one or two landscapes on the wall handsomely +framed, as if they had already visited the committee-rooms of an +exhibition and been thence extruded. Léon walked up to the pictures and +represented the part of a connoisseur before each in turn, with his +usual dramatic insight and force. The master of the house, as if +irresistibly attracted, followed him from canvas to canvas with the +lamp. Elvira was led directly to the fire, where she proceeded to warm +herself, while Stubbs stood in the middle of the floor and followed the +proceedings of Léon with mild astonishment in his eyes. + +“You should see them by daylight,” said the artist. + +“I promise myself that pleasure,” said Léon. “You possess, sir, if you +will permit me an observation, the art of composition to a T.” + +“You are very good,” returned the other. “But should you not draw +nearer to the fire?” + +“With all my heart,” said Léon. + +And the whole party was soon gathered at the table over a hasty and not +an elegant cold supper, washed down with the least of small wines. +Nobody liked the meal, but nobody complained; they put a good face upon +it, one and all, and made a great clattering of knives and forks. To +see Léon eating a single cold sausage was to see a triumph; by the time +he had done he had got through as much pantomime as would have sufficed +for a baron of beef, and he had the relaxed expression of the +over-eaten. + +As Elvira had naturally taken a place by the side of Léon, and Stubbs +as naturally, although I believe unconsciously, by the side of Elvira, +the host and hostess were left together. Yet it was to be noted that +they never addressed a word to each other, nor so much as suffered +their eyes to meet. The interrupted skirmish still survived in +ill-feeling; and the instant the guests departed it would break forth +again as bitterly as ever. The talk wandered from this to that +subject—for with one accord the party had declared it was too late to +go to bed; but those two never relaxed towards each other; Goneril and +Regan in a sisterly tiff were not more bent on enmity. + +It chanced that Elvira was so much tired by all the little excitements +of the night, that for once she laid aside her company manners, which +were both easy and correct, and in the most natural manner in the world +leaned her head on Léon’s shoulder. At the same time, fatigue +suggesting tenderness, she locked the fingers of her right hand into +those of her husband’s left; and, half closing her eyes, dozed off into +a golden borderland between sleep and waking. But all the time she was +not aware of what was passing, and saw the painter’s wife studying her +with looks between contempt and envy. + +It occurred to Léon that his constitution demanded the use of some +tobacco; and he undid his fingers from Elvira’s in order to roll a +cigarette. It was gently done, and he took care that his indulgence +should in no other way disturb his wife’s position. But it seemed to +catch the eye of the painter’s wife with a special significancy. She +looked straight before her for an instant, and then, with a swift and +stealthy movement, took hold of her husband’s hand below the table. +Alas! she might have spared herself the dexterity. For the poor fellow +was so overcome by this caress that he stopped with his mouth open in +the middle of a word, and by the expression of his face plainly +declared to all the company that his thoughts had been diverted into +softer channels. + +If it had not been rather amiable, it would have been absurdly droll. +His wife at once withdrew her touch; but it was plain she had to exert +some force. Thereupon the young man coloured and looked for a moment +beautiful. + +Léon and Elvira both observed the byplay, and a shock passed from one +to the other; for they were inveterate match-makers, especially between +those who were already married. + +“I beg your pardon,” said Léon suddenly. “I see no use in pretending. +Before we came in here we heard sounds indicating—if I may so express +myself—an imperfect harmony.” + +“Sir—” began the man. + +But the woman was beforehand. + +“It is quite true,” she said. “I see no cause to be ashamed. If my +husband is mad I shall at least do my utmost to prevent the +consequences. Picture to yourself, Monsieur and Madame,” she went on, +for she passed Stubbs over, “that this wretched person—a dauber, an +incompetent, not fit to be a sign-painter—receives this morning an +admirable offer from an uncle—an uncle of my own, my mother’s brother, +and tenderly beloved—of a clerkship with nearly a hundred and fifty +pounds a year, and that he—picture to yourself!—he refuses it! Why? For +the sake of Art, he says. Look at his art, I say—look at it! Is it fit +to be seen? Ask him—is it fit to be sold? And it is for this, Monsieur +and Madame, that he condemns me to the most deplorable existence, +without luxuries, without comforts, in a vile suburb of a country town. +O non!” she cried, “non—je ne me tairai pas—c’est plus fort que moi! I +take these gentlemen and this lady for judges—is this kind? is it +decent? is it manly? Do I not deserve better at his hands after having +married him and”—(a visible hitch)—“done everything in the world to +please him.” + +I doubt if there were ever a more embarrassed company at a table; every +one looked like a fool; and the husband like the biggest. + +“The art of Monsieur, however,” said Elvira, breaking the silence, “is +not wanting in distinction.” + +“It has this distinction,” said the wife, “that nobody will buy it.” + +“I should have supposed a clerkship—” began Stubbs. + +“Art is Art,” swept in Léon. “I salute Art. It is the beautiful, the +divine; it is the spirit of the world, and the pride of life. But—” And +the actor paused. + +“A clerkship—” began Stubbs. + +“I’ll tell you what it is,” said the painter. “I am an artist, and as +this gentleman says, Art is this and the other; but of course, if my +wife is going to make my life a piece of perdition all day long, I +prefer to go and drown myself out of hand.” + +“Go!” said his wife. “I should like to see you!” + +“I was going to say,” resumed Stubbs, “that a fellow may be a clerk and +paint almost as much as he likes. I know a fellow in a bank who makes +capital water-colour sketches; he even sold one for seven-and-six.” + +To both the women this seemed a plank of safety; each hopefully +interrogated the countenance of her lord; even Elvira, an artist +herself!—but indeed there must be something permanently mercantile in +the female nature. The two men exchanged a glance; it was tragic; not +otherwise might two philosophers salute, as at the end of a laborious +life each recognised that he was still a mystery to his disciples. + +Léon arose. + +“Art is Art,” he repeated sadly. “It is not water-colour sketches, nor +practising on a piano. It is a life to be lived.” + +“And in the meantime people starve!” observed the woman of the house. +“If that’s a life, it is not one for me.” + +“I’ll tell you what,” burst forth Léon; “you, Madame, go into another +room and talk it over with my wife; and I’ll stay here and talk it over +with your husband. It may come to nothing, but let’s try.” + +“I am very willing,” replied the young woman; and she proceeded to +light a candle. “This way if you please.” And she led Elvira upstairs +into a bedroom. “The fact is,” said she, sitting down, “that my husband +cannot paint.” + +“No more can mine act,” replied Elvira. + +“I should have thought he could,” returned the other; “he seems +clever.” + +“He is so, and the best of men besides,” said Elvira; “but he cannot +act.” + +“At least he is not a sheer humbug like mine; he can at least sing.” + +“You mistake Léon,” returned his wife warmly. “He does not even pretend +to sing; he has too fine a taste; he does so for a living. And, believe +me, neither of the men are humbugs. They are people with a +mission—which they cannot carry out.” + +“Humbug or not,” replied the other, “you came very near passing the +night in the fields; and, for my part, I live in terror of starvation. +I should think it was a man’s mission to think twice about his wife. +But it appears not. Nothing is their mission but to play the fool. Oh!” +she broke out, “is it not something dreary to think of that man of +mine? If he could only do it, who would care? But no—not he—no more +than I can!” + +“Have you any children?” asked Elvira. + +“No; but then I may.” + +“Children change so much,” said Elvira, with a sigh. + +And just then from the room below there flew up a sudden snapping chord +on the guitar; one followed after another; then the voice of Léon +joined in; and there was an air being played and sung that stopped the +speech of the two women. The wife of the painter stood like a person +transfixed; Elvira, looking into her eyes, could see all manner of +beautiful memories and kind thoughts that were passing in and out of +her soul with every note; it was a piece of her youth that went before +her; a green French plain, the smell of apple-flowers, the far and +shining ringlets of a river, and the words and presence of love. + +“Léon has hit the nail,” thought Elvira to herself. “I wonder how.” + +The how was plain enough. Léon had asked the painter if there were no +air connected with courtship and pleasant times; and having learnt what +he wished, and allowed an interval to pass, he had soared forth into + +“O mon amante, +O mon désir, +Sachons cueillir +L’heure charmante!” + + +“Pardon me, Madame,” said the painter’s wife, “your husband sings +admirably well.” + +“He sings that with some feeling,” replied Elvira, critically, although +she was a little moved herself, for the song cut both ways in the upper +chamber; “but it is as an actor and not as a musician.” + +“Life is very sad,” said the other; “it so wastes away under one’s +fingers.” + +“I have not found it so,” replied Elvira. “I think the good parts of it +last and grow greater every day.” + +“Frankly, how would you advise me?” + +“Frankly, I would let my husband do what he wished. He is obviously a +very loving painter; you have not yet tried him as a clerk. And you +know—if it were only as the possible father of your children—it is as +well to keep him at his best.” + +“He is an excellent fellow,” said the wife. + + +They kept it up till sunrise with music and all manner of good +fellowship; and at sunrise, while the sky was still temperate and +clear, they separated on the threshold with a thousand excellent wishes +for each other’s welfare. Castel-le-Gâchis was beginning to send up its +smoke against the golden East; and the church bell was ringing six. + +“My guitar is a familiar spirit,” said Léon, as he and Elvira took the +nearest way towards the inn, “it resuscitated a Commissary, created an +English tourist, and reconciled a man and wife.” + +Stubbs, on his part, went off into the morning with reflections of his +own. + +“They are all mad,” thought he, “all mad—but wonderfully decent.” + + +THE END + + +Printed by Spottiswoode, Ballantyne & Co. 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms +of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online +at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you +are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the +country where you are located before using this eBook. +</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: New Arabian Nights</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Robert Louis Stevenson</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: March 4, 1997 [eBook #839]<br /> +[Most recently updated: August 24, 2021]</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: David Price</div> +<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NEW ARABIAN NIGHTS ***</div> + +<h1>NEW ARABIAN NIGHTS</h1> + +<p class="center"> + +<span class="GutSmall">BY</span><br/> +ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON +</p> + +<div class="gapspace"> </div> + +<p class="center"> +<span class="GutSmall">LONDON</span><br/> +CHATTO & WINDUS<br/> +<span class="GutSmall">1920</span> +</p> + +<div class="gapspace"> </div> + +<p class="center"> +<i>Printed at</i> <span class="smcap">The Ballantyne Press</span><br/> +<span class="smcap">Spottiswoode</span>, <span class="smcap">Ballantyne</span> +& <span class="smcap">Co. Ltd</span>.<br/> +<i>Colchester</i>, <i>London & Eton</i>, <i>England</i> +</p> + +<div class="gapspace"> </div> + +<p class="center"> +<span class="GutSmall">TO</span> +</p> + +<p class="center"> +<b><i>Robert Allan Mowbray Stevenson</i></b> +</p> + +<p class="center"> +<span class="GutSmall">IN GRATEFUL REMEMBRANCE OF THEIR YOUTH</span><br/> +<span class="GutSmall">AND THEIR ALREADY OLD AFFECTION</span> +</p> + +<div class="gapspace"> </div> + +<h2>Contents</h2> + +<table summary="" style=""> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap01"><b>THE SUICIDE CLUB:</b></a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap02">Story of the Young Man with the Cream Tarts</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap03">Story of the Physician and the Saratoga Trunk</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap04">The Adventure of the Hansom Cabs</a><br /><br /></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap05"><b>THE RAJAH’S DIAMOND:</b></a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap06">Story of the Bandbox</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap07">Story of the Young Man in Holy Orders</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap08">Story of the House with the Green Blinds</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap09">The Adventure of Prince Florizel and a Detective</a><br /><br /></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap10"><b>THE PAVILION ON THE LINKS:</b></a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap11">CHAPTER I. Tells how I Camped in Graden Sea-wood, and beheld a Light in the Pavilion</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap12">CHAPTER II. Tells of the Nocturnal Landing from the Yacht</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap13">CHAPTER III. Tells how I became acquainted with my Wife</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap14">CHAPTER IV. Tells in what a startling manner I learned that I was not alone in Graden Sea-wood</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap15">CHAPTER V. Tells of an Interview between Northmour, Clara, and Myself</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap16">CHAPTER VI. Tells of my Introduction to the Tall Man</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap17">CHAPTER VII. Tells how a Word was Cried through the Pavilion Window</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap18">CHAPTER VIII. Tells the Last of the Tall Man</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap19">CHAPTER IX. Tells how Northmour carried out his Threat</a><br /><br /></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap20"><b>A LODGING FOR THE NIGHT</b></a><br /><br /></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap21"><b>THE SIRE DE MALÉTROIT’S DOOR</b></a><br /><br /></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap22"><b>PROVIDENCE AND THE GUITAR</b></a><br /><br /></td> +</tr> + +</table> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap01"></a>THE SUICIDE CLUB</h2> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap02"></a>STORY OF THE YOUNG MAN WITH THE CREAM TARTS</h3> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">During</span> his residence in London, the accomplished +Prince Florizel of Bohemia gained the affection of all classes by the seduction +of his manner and by a well-considered generosity. He was a remarkable man even +by what was known of him; and that was but a small part of what he actually +did. Although of a placid temper in ordinary circumstances, and accustomed to +take the world with as much philosophy as any ploughman, the Prince of Bohemia +was not without a taste for ways of life more adventurous and eccentric than +that to which he was destined by his birth. Now and then, when he fell into a +low humour, when there was no laughable play to witness in any of the London +theatres, and when the season of the year was unsuitable to those field sports +in which he excelled all competitors, he would summon his confidant and Master +of the Horse, Colonel Geraldine, and bid him prepare himself against an evening +ramble. The Master of the Horse was a young officer of a brave and even +temerarious disposition. He greeted the news with delight, and hastened to make +ready. Long practice and a varied acquaintance of life had given him a singular +facility in disguise; he could adapt not only his face and bearing, but his +voice and almost his thoughts, to those of any rank, character, or nation; and +in this way he diverted attention from the Prince, and sometimes gained +admission for the pair into strange societies. The civil authorities were never +taken into the secret of these adventures; the imperturbable courage of the one +and the ready invention and chivalrous devotion of the other had brought them +through a score of dangerous passes; and they grew in confidence as time went +on. +</p> + +<p> +One evening in March they were driven by a sharp fall of sleet into an Oyster +Bar in the immediate neighbourhood of Leicester Square. Colonel Geraldine was +dressed and painted to represent a person connected with the Press in reduced +circumstances; while the Prince had, as usual, travestied his appearance by the +addition of false whiskers and a pair of large adhesive eyebrows. These lent +him a shaggy and weather-beaten air, which, for one of his urbanity, formed the +most impenetrable disguise. Thus equipped, the commander and his satellite +sipped their brandy and soda in security. +</p> + +<p> +The bar was full of guests, male and female; but though more than one of these +offered to fall into talk with our adventurers, none of them promised to grow +interesting upon a nearer acquaintance. There was nothing present but the lees +of London and the commonplace of disrespectability; and the Prince had already +fallen to yawning, and was beginning to grow weary of the whole excursion, when +the swing doors were pushed violently open, and a young man, followed by a +couple of commissionaires, entered the bar. Each of the commissionaires carried +a large dish of cream tarts under a cover, which they at once removed; and the +young man made the round of the company, and pressed these confections upon +every one’s acceptance with an exaggerated courtesy. Sometimes his offer +was laughingly accepted; sometimes it was firmly, or even harshly, rejected. In +these latter cases the new-comer always ate the tart himself, with some more or +less humorous commentary. +</p> + +<p> +At last he accosted Prince Florizel. +</p> + +<p> +“Sir,” said he, with a profound obeisance, proffering the tart at +the same time between his thumb and forefinger, “will you so far honour +an entire stranger? I can answer for the quality of the pastry, having eaten +two dozen and three of them myself since five o’clock.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am in the habit,” replied the Prince, “of looking not so +much to the nature of a gift as to the spirit in which it is offered.” +</p> + +<p> +“The spirit, sir,” returned the young man, with another bow, +“is one of mockery.” +</p> + +<p> +“Mockery?” repeated Florizel. “And whom do you propose to +mock?” +</p> + +<p> +“I am not here to expound my philosophy,” replied the other, +“but to distribute these cream tarts. If I mention that I heartily +include myself in the ridicule of the transaction, I hope you will consider +honour satisfied and condescend. If not, you will constrain me to eat my +twenty-eighth, and I own to being weary of the exercise.” +</p> + +<p> +“You touch me,” said the Prince, “and I have all the will in +the world to rescue you from this dilemma, but upon one condition. If my friend +and I eat your cakes—for which we have neither of us any natural +inclination—we shall expect you to join us at supper by way of +recompense.” +</p> + +<p> +The young man seemed to reflect. +</p> + +<p> +“I have still several dozen upon hand,” he said at last; “and +that will make it necessary for me to visit several more bars before my great +affair is concluded. This will take some time; and if you are +hungry—” +</p> + +<p> +The Prince interrupted him with a polite gesture. +</p> + +<p> +“My friend and I will accompany you,” he said; “for we have +already a deep interest in your very agreeable mode of passing an evening. And +now that the preliminaries of peace are settled, allow me to sign the treaty +for both.” +</p> + +<p> +And the Prince swallowed the tart with the best grace imaginable. +</p> + +<p> +“It is delicious,” said he. +</p> + +<p> +“I perceive you are a connoisseur,” replied the young man. +</p> + +<p> +Colonel Geraldine likewise did honour to the pastry; and every one in that bar +having now either accepted or refused his delicacies, the young man with the +cream tarts led the way to another and similar establishment. The two +commissionaires, who seemed to have grown accustomed to their absurd +employment, followed immediately after; and the Prince and the Colonel brought +up the rear, arm in arm, and smiling to each other as they went. In this order +the company visited two other taverns, where scenes were enacted of a like +nature to that already described—some refusing, some accepting, the +favours of this vagabond hospitality, and the young man himself eating each +rejected tart. +</p> + +<p> +On leaving the third saloon the young man counted his store. There were but +nine remaining, three in one tray and six in the other. +</p> + +<p> +“Gentlemen,” said he, addressing himself to his two new followers, +“I am unwilling to delay your supper. I am positively sure you must be +hungry. I feel that I owe you a special consideration. And on this great day +for me, when I am closing a career of folly by my most conspicuously silly +action, I wish to behave handsomely to all who give me countenance. Gentlemen, +you shall wait no longer. Although my constitution is shattered by previous +excesses, at the risk of my life I liquidate the suspensory condition.” +</p> + +<p> +With these words he crushed the nine remaining tarts into his mouth, and +swallowed them at a single movement each. Then, turning to the commissionaires, +he gave them a couple of sovereigns. +</p> + +<p> +“I have to thank you,” said be, “for your extraordinary +patience.” +</p> + +<p> +And he dismissed them with a bow apiece. For some seconds he stood looking at +the purse from which he had just paid his assistants, then, with a laugh, he +tossed it into the middle of the street, and signified his readiness for +supper. +</p> + +<p> +In a small French restaurant in Soho, which had enjoyed an exaggerated +reputation for some little while, but had already begun to be forgotten, and in +a private room up two pair of stairs, the three companions made a very elegant +supper, and drank three or four bottles of champagne, talking the while upon +indifferent subjects. The young man was fluent and gay, but he laughed louder +than was natural in a person of polite breeding; his hands trembled violently, +and his voice took sudden and surprising inflections, which seemed to be +independent of his will. The dessert had been cleared away, and all three had +lighted their cigars, when the Prince addressed him in these words:— +</p> + +<p> +“You will, I am sure, pardon my curiosity. What I have seen of you has +greatly pleased but even more puzzled me. And though I should be loth to seem +indiscreet, I must tell you that my friend and I are persons very well worthy +to be entrusted with a secret. We have many of our own, which we are +continually revealing to improper ears. And if, as I suppose, your story is a +silly one, you need have no delicacy with us, who are two of the silliest men +in England. My name is Godall, Theophilus Godall; my friend is Major Alfred +Hammersmith—or at least, such is the name by which he chooses to be +known. We pass our lives entirely in the search for extravagant adventures; and +there is no extravagance with which we are not capable of sympathy.” +</p> + +<p> +“I like you, Mr. Godall,” returned the young man; “you +inspire me with a natural confidence; and I have not the slightest objection to +your friend the Major, whom I take to be a nobleman in masquerade. At least, I +am sure he is no soldier.” +</p> + +<p> +The Colonel smiled at this compliment to the perfection of his art; and the +young man went on in a more animated manner. +</p> + +<p> +“There is every reason why I should not tell you my story. Perhaps that +is just the reason why I am going to do so. At least, you seem so well prepared +to hear a tale of silliness that I cannot find it in my heart to disappoint +you. My name, in spite of your example, I shall keep to myself. My age is not +essential to the narrative. I am descended from my ancestors by ordinary +generation, and from them I inherited the very eligible human tenement which I +still occupy and a fortune of three hundred pounds a year. I suppose they also +handed on to me a hare-brain humour, which it has been my chief delight to +indulge. I received a good education. I can play the violin nearly well enough +to earn money in the orchestra of a penny gaff, but not quite. The same remark +applies to the flute and the French horn. I learned enough of whist to lose +about a hundred a year at that scientific game. My acquaintance with French was +sufficient to enable me to squander money in Paris with almost the same +facility as in London. In short, I am a person full of manly accomplishments. I +have had every sort of adventure, including a duel about nothing. Only two +months ago I met a young lady exactly suited to my taste in mind and body; I +found my heart melt; I saw that I had come upon my fate at last, and was in the +way to fall in love. But when I came to reckon up what remained to me of my +capital, I found it amounted to something less than four hundred pounds! I ask +you fairly—can a man who respects himself fall in love on four hundred +pounds? I concluded, certainly not; left the presence of my charmer, and +slightly accelerating my usual rate of expenditure, came this morning to my +last eighty pounds. This I divided into two equal parts; forty I reserved for a +particular purpose; the remaining forty I was to dissipate before the night. I +have passed a very entertaining day, and played many farces besides that of the +cream tarts which procured me the advantage of your acquaintance; for I was +determined, as I told you, to bring a foolish career to a still more foolish +conclusion; and when you saw me throw my purse into the street, the forty +pounds were at an end. Now you know me as well as I know myself: a fool, but +consistent in his folly; and, as I will ask you to believe, neither a whimperer +nor a coward.” +</p> + +<p> +From the whole tone of the young man’s statement it was plain that he +harboured very bitter and contemptuous thoughts about himself. His auditors +were led to imagine that his love affair was nearer his heart than he admitted, +and that he had a design on his own life. The farce of the cream tarts began to +have very much the air of a tragedy in disguise. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, is this not odd,” broke out Geraldine, giving a look to +Prince Florizel, “that we three fellows should have met by the merest +accident in so large a wilderness as London, and should be so nearly in the +same condition?” +</p> + +<p> +“How?” cried the young man. “Are you, too, ruined? Is this +supper a folly like my cream tarts? Has the devil brought three of his own +together for a last carouse?” +</p> + +<p> +“The devil, depend upon it, can sometimes do a very gentlemanly +thing,” returned Prince Florizel; “and I am so much touched by this +coincidence, that, although we are not entirely in the same case, I am going to +put an end to the disparity. Let your heroic treatment of the last cream tarts +be my example.” +</p> + +<p> +So saying, the Prince drew out his purse and took from it a small bundle of +bank-notes. +</p> + +<p> +“You see, I was a week or so behind you, but I mean to catch you up and +come neck and neck into the winning-post,” he continued. +“This,” laying one of the notes upon the table, “will suffice +for the bill. As for the rest—” +</p> + +<p> +He tossed them into the fire, and they went up the chimney in a single blaze. +</p> + +<p> +The young man tried to catch his arm, but as the table was between them his +interference came too late. +</p> + +<p> +“Unhappy man,” he cried, “you should not have burned them +all! You should have kept forty pounds.” +</p> + +<p> +“Forty pounds!” repeated the Prince. “Why, in heaven’s +name, forty pounds?” +</p> + +<p> +“Why not eighty?” cried the Colonel; “for to my certain +knowledge there must have been a hundred in the bundle.” +</p> + +<p> +“It was only forty pounds he needed,” said the young man gloomily. +“But without them there is no admission. The rule is strict. Forty pounds +for each. Accursed life, where a man cannot even die without money!” +</p> + +<p> +The Prince and the Colonel exchanged glances. “Explain yourself,” +said the latter. “I have still a pocket-book tolerably well lined, and I +need not say how readily I should share my wealth with Godall. But I must know +to what end: you must certainly tell us what you mean.” +</p> + +<p> +The young man seemed to awaken; he looked uneasily from one to the other, and +his face flushed deeply. +</p> + +<p> +“You are not fooling me?” he asked. “You are indeed ruined +men like me?” +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed, I am for my part,” replied the Colonel. +</p> + +<p> +“And for mine,” said the Prince, “I have given you proof. Who +but a ruined man would throw his notes into the fire? The action speaks for +itself.” +</p> + +<p> +“A ruined man—yes,” returned the other suspiciously, +“or else a millionaire.” +</p> + +<p> +“Enough, sir,” said the Prince; “I have said so, and I am not +accustomed to have my word remain in doubt.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ruined?” said the young man. “Are you ruined, like me? Are +you, after a life of indulgence, come to such a pass that you can only indulge +yourself in one thing more? Are you”—he kept lowering his voice as +he went on—“are you going to give yourselves that last indulgence? +Are you going to avoid the consequences of your folly by the one infallible and +easy path? Are you going to give the slip to the sheriff’s officers of +conscience by the one open door?” +</p> + +<p> +Suddenly he broke off and attempted to laugh. +</p> + +<p> +“Here is your health!” he cried, emptying his glass, “and +good night to you, my merry ruined men.” +</p> + +<p> +Colonel Geraldine caught him by the arm as he was about to rise. +</p> + +<p> +“You lack confidence in us,” he said, “and you are wrong. To +all your questions I make answer in the affirmative. But I am not so timid, and +can speak the Queen’s English plainly. We too, like yourself, have had +enough of life, and are determined to die. Sooner or later, alone or together, +we meant to seek out death and beard him where he lies ready. Since we have met +you, and your case is more pressing, let it be to-night—and at +once—and, if you will, all three together. Such a penniless trio,” +he cried, “should go arm in arm into the halls of Pluto, and give each +other some countenance among the shades!” +</p> + +<p> +Geraldine had hit exactly on the manners and intonations that became the part +he was playing. The Prince himself was disturbed, and looked over at his +confidant with a shade of doubt. As for the young man, the flush came back +darkly into his cheek, and his eyes threw out a spark of light. +</p> + +<p> +“You are the men for me!” he cried, with an almost terrible gaiety. +“Shake hands upon the bargain!” (his hand was cold and wet). +“You little know in what a company you will begin the march! You little +know in what a happy moment for yourselves you partook of my cream tarts! I am +only a unit, but I am a unit in an army. I know Death’s private door. I +am one of his familiars, and can show you into eternity without ceremony and +yet without scandal.” +</p> + +<p> +They called upon him eagerly to explain his meaning. +</p> + +<p> +“Can you muster eighty pounds between you?” he demanded. +</p> + +<p> +Geraldine ostentatiously consulted his pocket-book, and replied in the +affirmative. +</p> + +<p> +“Fortunate beings!” cried the young man. “Forty pounds is the +entry money of the Suicide Club.” +</p> + +<p> +“The Suicide Club,” said the Prince, “why, what the devil is +that?” +</p> + +<p> +“Listen,” said the young man; “this is the age of +conveniences, and I have to tell you of the last perfection of the sort. We +have affairs in different places; and hence railways were invented. Railways +separated us infallibly from our friends; and so telegraphs were made that we +might communicate speedier at great distances. Even in hotels we have lifts to +spare us a climb of some hundred steps. Now, we know that life is only a stage +to play the fool upon as long as the part amuses us. There was one more +convenience lacking to modern comfort; a decent, easy way to quit that stage; +the back stairs to liberty; or, as I said this moment, Death’s private +door. This, my two fellow-rebels, is supplied by the Suicide Club. Do not +suppose that you and I are alone, or even exceptional in the highly reasonable +desire that we profess. A large number of our fellowmen, who have grown +heartily sick of the performance in which they are expected to join daily and +all their lives long, are only kept from flight by one or two considerations. +Some have families who would be shocked, or even blamed, if the matter became +public; others have a weakness at heart and recoil from the circumstances of +death. That is, to some extent, my own experience. I cannot put a pistol to my +head and draw the trigger; for something stronger than myself withholds the +act; and although I loathe life, I have not strength enough in my body to take +hold of death and be done with it. For such as I, and for all who desire to be +out of the coil without posthumous scandal, the Suicide Club has been +inaugurated. How this has been managed, what is its history, or what may be its +ramifications in other lands, I am myself uninformed; and what I know of its +constitution, I am not at liberty to communicate to you. To this extent, +however, I am at your service. If you are truly tired of life, I will introduce +you to-night to a meeting; and if not to-night, at least some time within the +week, you will be easily relieved of your existences. It is now (consulting his +watch) eleven; by half-past, at latest, we must leave this place; so that you +have half-an-hour before you to consider my proposal. It is more serious than a +cream tart,” he added, with a smile; “and I suspect more +palatable.” +</p> + +<p> +“More serious, certainly,” returned Colonel Geraldine; “and +as it is so much more so, will you allow me five minutes’ speech in +private with my friend, Mr. Godall?” +</p> + +<p> +“It is only fair,” answered the young man. “If you will +permit, I will retire.” +</p> + +<p> +“You will be very obliging,” said the Colonel. +</p> + +<p> +As soon as the two were alone—“What,” said Prince Florizel, +“is the use of this confabulation, Geraldine? I see you are flurried, +whereas my mind is very tranquilly made up. I will see the end of this.” +</p> + +<p> +“Your Highness,” said the Colonel, turning pale; “let me ask +you to consider the importance of your life, not only to your friends, but to +the public interest. ‘If not to-night,’ said this madman; but +supposing that to-night some irreparable disaster were to overtake your +Highness’s person, what, let me ask you, what would be my despair, and +what the concern and disaster of a great nation?” +</p> + +<p> +“I will see the end of this,” repeated the Prince in his most +deliberate tones; “and have the kindness, Colonel Geraldine, to remember +and respect your word of honour as a gentleman. Under no circumstances, +recollect, nor without my special authority, are you to betray the incognito +under which I choose to go abroad. These were my commands, which I now +reiterate. And now,” he added, “let me ask you to call for the +bill.” +</p> + +<p> +Colonel Geraldine bowed in submission; but he had a very white face as he +summoned the young man of the cream tarts, and issued his directions to the +waiter. The Prince preserved his undisturbed demeanour, and described a Palais +Royal farce to the young suicide with great humour and gusto. He avoided the +Colonel’s appealing looks without ostentation, and selected another +cheroot with more than usual care. Indeed, he was now the only man of the party +who kept any command over his nerves. +</p> + +<p> +The bill was discharged, the Prince giving the whole change of the note to the +astonished waiter; and the three drove off in a four-wheeler. They were not +long upon the way before the cab stopped at the entrance to a rather dark +court. Here all descended. +</p> + +<p> +After Geraldine had paid the fare, the young man turned, and addressed Prince +Florizel as follows:— +</p> + +<p> +“It is still time, Mr. Godall, to make good your escape into thraldom. +And for you too, Major Hammersmith. Reflect well before you take another step; +and if your hearts say no—here are the cross-roads.” +</p> + +<p> +“Lead on, sir,” said the Prince. “I am not the man to go back +from a thing once said.” +</p> + +<p> +“Your coolness does me good,” replied their guide. “I have +never seen any one so unmoved at this conjuncture; and yet you are not the +first whom I have escorted to this door. More than one of my friends has +preceded me, where I knew I must shortly follow. But this is of no interest to +you. Wait me here for only a few moments; I shall return as soon as I have +arranged the preliminaries of your introduction.” +</p> + +<p> +And with that the young man, waving his hand to his companions, turned into the +court, entered a doorway and disappeared. +</p> + +<p> +“Of all our follies,” said Colonel Geraldine in a low voice, +“this is the wildest and most dangerous.” +</p> + +<p> +“I perfectly believe so,” returned the Prince. +</p> + +<p> +“We have still,” pursued the Colonel, “a moment to ourselves. +Let me beseech your Highness to profit by the opportunity and retire. The +consequences of this step are so dark, and may be so grave, that I feel myself +justified in pushing a little farther than usual the liberty which your +Highness is so condescending as to allow me in private.” +</p> + +<p> +“Am I to understand that Colonel Geraldine is afraid?” asked his +Highness, taking his cheroot from his lips, and looking keenly into the +other’s face. +</p> + +<p> +“My fear is certainly not personal,” replied the other proudly; +“of that your Highness may rest well assured.” +</p> + +<p> +“I had supposed as much,” returned the Prince, with undisturbed +good humour; “but I was unwilling to remind you of the difference in our +stations. No more—no more,” he added, seeing Geraldine about to +apologise, “you stand excused.” +</p> + +<p> +And he smoked placidly, leaning against a railing, until the young man +returned. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” he asked, “has our reception been arranged?” +</p> + +<p> +“Follow me,” was the reply. “The President will see you in +the cabinet. And let me warn you to be frank in your answers. I have stood your +guarantee; but the club requires a searching inquiry before admission; for the +indiscretion of a single member would lead to the dispersion of the whole +society for ever.” +</p> + +<p> +The Prince and Geraldine put their heads together for a moment. “Bear me +out in this,” said the one; and “bear me out in that,” said +the other; and by boldly taking up the characters of men with whom both were +acquainted, they had come to an agreement in a twinkling, and were ready to +follow their guide into the President’s cabinet. +</p> + +<p> +There were no formidable obstacles to pass. The outer door stood open; the door +of the cabinet was ajar; and there, in a small but very high apartment, the +young man left them once more. +</p> + +<p> +“He will be here immediately,” he said, with a nod, as he +disappeared. +</p> + +<p> +Voices were audible in the cabinet through the folding doors which formed one +end; and now and then the noise of a champagne cork, followed by a burst of +laughter, intervened among the sounds of conversation. A single tall window +looked out upon the river and the embankment; and by the disposition of the +lights they judged themselves not far from Charing Cross station. The furniture +was scanty, and the coverings worn to the thread; and there was nothing movable +except a hand-bell in the centre of a round table, and the hats and coats of a +considerable party hung round the wall on pegs. +</p> + +<p> +“What sort of a den is this?” said Geraldine. +</p> + +<p> +“That is what I have come to see,” replied the Prince. “If +they keep live devils on the premises, the thing may grow amusing.” +</p> + +<p> +Just then the folding door was opened no more than was necessary for the +passage of a human body; and there entered at the same moment a louder buzz of +talk, and the redoubtable President of the Suicide Club. The President was a +man of fifty or upwards; large and rambling in his gait, with shaggy side +whiskers, a bald top to his head, and a veiled grey eye, which now and then +emitted a twinkle. His mouth, which embraced a large cigar, he kept continually +screwing round and round and from side to side, as he looked sagaciously and +coldly at the strangers. He was dressed in light tweeds, with his neck very +open in a striped shirt collar; and carried a minute book under one arm. +</p> + +<p> +“Good evening,” said he, after he had closed the door behind him. +“I am told you wish to speak with me.” +</p> + +<p> +“We have a desire, sir, to join the Suicide Club,” replied the +Colonel. +</p> + +<p> +The President rolled his cigar about in his mouth. “What is that?” +he said abruptly. +</p> + +<p> +“Pardon me,” returned the Colonel, “but I believe you are the +person best qualified to give us information on that point.” +</p> + +<p> +“I?” cried the President. “A Suicide Club? Come, come! this +is a frolic for All Fools’ Day. I can make allowances for gentlemen who +get merry in their liquor; but let there be an end to this.” +</p> + +<p> +“Call your Club what you will,” said the Colonel, “you have +some company behind these doors, and we insist on joining it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Sir,” returned the President curtly, “you have made a +mistake. This is a private house, and you must leave it instantly.” +</p> + +<p> +The Prince had remained quietly in his seat throughout this little colloquy; +but now, when the Colonel looked over to him, as much as to say, “Take +your answer and come away, for God’s sake!” he drew his cheroot +from his mouth, and spoke— +</p> + +<p> +“I have come here,” said he, “upon the invitation of a friend +of yours. He has doubtless informed you of my intention in thus intruding on +your party. Let me remind you that a person in my circumstances has exceedingly +little to bind him, and is not at all likely to tolerate much rudeness. I am a +very quiet man, as a usual thing; but, my dear sir, you are either going to +oblige me in the little matter of which you are aware, or you shall very +bitterly repent that you ever admitted me to your ante-chamber.” +</p> + +<p> +The President laughed aloud. +</p> + +<p> +“That is the way to speak,” said he. “You are a man who is a +man. You know the way to my heart, and can do what you like with me. Will +you,” he continued, addressing Geraldine, “will you step aside for +a few minutes? I shall finish first with your companion, and some of the +club’s formalities require to be fulfilled in private.” +</p> + +<p> +With these words he opened the door of a small closet, into which he shut the +Colonel. +</p> + +<p> +“I believe in you,” he said to Florizel, as soon as they were +alone; “but are you sure of your friend?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not so sure as I am of myself, though he has more cogent reasons,” +answered Florizel, “but sure enough to bring him here without alarm. He +has had enough to cure the most tenacious man of life. He was cashiered the +other day for cheating at cards.” +</p> + +<p> +“A good reason, I daresay,” replied the President; “at least, +we have another in the same case, and I feel sure of him. Have you also been in +the Service, may I ask?” +</p> + +<p> +“I have,” was the reply; “but I was too lazy, I left it +early.” +</p> + +<p> +“What is your reason for being tired of life?” pursued the +President. +</p> + +<p> +“The same, as near as I can make out,” answered the Prince; +“unadulterated laziness.” +</p> + +<p> +The President started. “D—n it,” said he, “you must +have something better than that.” +</p> + +<p> +“I have no more money,” added Florizel. “That is also a +vexation, without doubt. It brings my sense of idleness to an acute +point.” +</p> + +<p> +The President rolled his cigar round in his mouth for some seconds, directing +his gaze straight into the eyes of this unusual neophyte; but the Prince +supported his scrutiny with unabashed good temper. +</p> + +<p> +“If I had not a deal of experience,” said the President at last, +“I should turn you off. But I know the world; and this much any way, that +the most frivolous excuses for a suicide are often the toughest to stand by. +And when I downright like a man, as I do you, sir, I would rather strain the +regulation than deny him.” +</p> + +<p> +The Prince and the Colonel, one after the other, were subjected to a long and +particular interrogatory: the Prince alone; but Geraldine in the presence of +the Prince, so that the President might observe the countenance of the one +while the other was being warmly cross-examined. The result was satisfactory; +and the President, after having booked a few details of each case, produced a +form of oath to be accepted. Nothing could be conceived more passive than the +obedience promised, or more stringent than the terms by which the juror bound +himself. The man who forfeited a pledge so awful could scarcely have a rag of +honour or any of the consolations of religion left to him. Florizel signed the +document, but not without a shudder; the Colonel followed his example with an +air of great depression. Then the President received the entry money; and +without more ado, introduced the two friends into the smoking-room of the +Suicide Club. +</p> + +<p> +The smoking-room of the Suicide Club was the same height as the cabinet into +which it opened, but much larger, and papered from top to bottom with an +imitation of oak wainscot. A large and cheerful fire and a number of gas-jets +illuminated the company. The Prince and his follower made the number up to +eighteen. Most of the party were smoking, and drinking champagne; a feverish +hilarity reigned, with sudden and rather ghastly pauses. +</p> + +<p> +“Is this a full meeting?” asked the Prince. +</p> + +<p> +“Middling,” said the President. “By the way,” he added, +“if you have any money, it is usual to offer some champagne. It keeps up +a good spirit, and is one of my own little perquisites.” +</p> + +<p> +“Hammersmith,” said Florizel, “I may leave the champagne to +you.” +</p> + +<p> +And with that he turned away and began to go round among the guests. Accustomed +to play the host in the highest circles, he charmed and dominated all whom he +approached; there was something at once winning and authoritative in his +address; and his extraordinary coolness gave him yet another distinction in +this half maniacal society. As he went from one to another he kept both his +eyes and ears open, and soon began to gain a general idea of the people among +whom he found himself. As in all other places of resort, one type predominated: +people in the prime of youth, with every show of intelligence and sensibility +in their appearance, but with little promise of strength or the quality that +makes success. Few were much above thirty, and not a few were still in their +teens. They stood, leaning on tables and shifting on their feet; sometimes they +smoked extraordinarily fast, and sometimes they let their cigars go out; some +talked well, but the conversation of others was plainly the result of nervous +tension, and was equally without wit or purport. As each new bottle of +champagne was opened, there was a manifest improvement in gaiety. Only two were +seated—one in a chair in the recess of the window, with his head hanging +and his hands plunged deep into his trouser pockets, pale, visibly moist with +perspiration, saying never a word, a very wreck of soul and body; the other sat +on the divan close by the chimney, and attracted notice by a trenchant +dissimilarity from all the rest. He was probably upwards of forty, but he +looked fully ten years older; and Florizel thought he had never seen a man more +naturally hideous, nor one more ravaged by disease and ruinous excitements. He +was no more than skin and bone, was partly paralysed, and wore spectacles of +such unusual power, that his eyes appeared through the glasses greatly +magnified and distorted in shape. Except the Prince and the President, he was +the only person in the room who preserved the composure of ordinary life. +</p> + +<p> +There was little decency among the members of the club. Some boasted of the +disgraceful actions, the consequences of which had reduced them to seek refuge +in death; and the others listened without disapproval. There was a tacit +understanding against moral judgments; and whoever passed the club doors +enjoyed already some of the immunities of the tomb. They drank to each +other’s memories, and to those of notable suicides in the past. They +compared and developed their different views of death—some declaring that +it was no more than blackness and cessation; others full of a hope that that +very night they should be scaling the stars and commencing with the mighty +dead. +</p> + +<p> +“To the eternal memory of Baron Trenck, the type of suicides!” +cried one. “He went out of a small cell into a smaller, that he might +come forth again to freedom.” +</p> + +<p> +“For my part,” said a second, “I wish no more than a bandage +for my eyes and cotton for my ears. Only they have no cotton thick enough in +this world.” +</p> + +<p> +A third was for reading the mysteries of life in a future state; and a fourth +professed that he would never have joined the club, if he had not been induced +to believe in Mr. Darwin. +</p> + +<p> +“I could not bear,” said this remarkable suicide, “to be +descended from an ape.” +</p> + +<p> +Altogether, the Prince was disappointed by the bearing and conversation of the +members. +</p> + +<p> +“It does not seem to me,” he thought, “a matter for so much +disturbance. If a man has made up his mind to kill himself, let him do it, in +God’s name, like a gentleman. This flutter and big talk is out of +place.” +</p> + +<p> +In the meanwhile Colonel Geraldine was a prey to the blackest apprehensions; +the club and its rules were still a mystery, and he looked round the room for +some one who should be able to set his mind at rest. In this survey his eye +lighted on the paralytic person with the strong spectacles; and seeing him so +exceedingly tranquil, he besought the President, who was going in and out of +the room under a pressure of business, to present him to the gentleman on the +divan. +</p> + +<p> +The functionary explained the needlessness of all such formalities within the +club, but nevertheless presented Mr. Hammersmith to Mr. Malthus. +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Malthus looked at the Colonel curiously, and then requested him to take a +seat upon his right. +</p> + +<p> +“You are a new-comer,” he said, “and wish information? You +have come to the proper source. It is two years since I first visited this +charming club.” +</p> + +<p> +The Colonel breathed again. If Mr. Malthus had frequented the place for two +years there could be little danger for the Prince in a single evening. But +Geraldine was none the less astonished, and began to suspect a mystification. +</p> + +<p> +“What!” cried he, “two years! I thought—but indeed I +see I have been made the subject of a pleasantry.” +</p> + +<p> +“By no means,” replied Mr. Malthus mildly. “My case is +peculiar. I am not, properly speaking, a suicide at all; but, as it were, an +honorary member. I rarely visit the club twice in two months. My infirmity and +the kindness of the President have procured me these little immunities, for +which besides I pay at an advanced rate. Even as it is my luck has been +extraordinary.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am afraid,” said the Colonel, “that I must ask you to be +more explicit. You must remember that I am still most imperfectly acquainted +with the rules of the club.” +</p> + +<p> +“An ordinary member who comes here in search of death like +yourself,” replied the paralytic, “returns every evening until +fortune favours him. He can even, if he is penniless, get board and lodging +from the President: very fair, I believe, and clean, although, of course, not +luxurious; that could hardly be, considering the exiguity (if I may so express +myself) of the subscription. And then the President’s company is a +delicacy in itself.” +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed!” cried Geraldine, “he had not greatly prepossessed +me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah!” said Mr. Malthus, “you do not know the man: the +drollest fellow! What stories! What cynicism! He knows life to admiration and, +between ourselves, is probably the most corrupt rogue in Christendom.” +</p> + +<p> +“And he also,” asked the Colonel, “is a permanency—like +yourself, if I may say so without offence?” +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed, he is a permanency in a very different sense from me,” +replied Mr. Malthus. “I have been graciously spared, but I must go at +last. Now he never plays. He shuffles and deals for the club, and makes the +necessary arrangements. That man, my dear Mr. Hammersmith, is the very soul of +ingenuity. For three years he has pursued in London his useful and, I think I +may add, his artistic calling; and not so much as a whisper of suspicion has +been once aroused. I believe him myself to be inspired. You doubtless remember +the celebrated case, six months ago, of the gentleman who was accidentally +poisoned in a chemists shop? That was one of the least rich, one of the least +racy, of his notions; but then, how simple! and how safe!” +</p> + +<p> +“You astound me,” said the Colonel. “Was that unfortunate +gentleman one of the—” He was about to say “victims”; +but bethinking himself in time, he substituted—“members of the +club?” +</p> + +<p> +In the same flash of thought, it occurred to him that Mr. Malthus himself had +not at all spoken in the tone of one who is in love with death; and he added +hurriedly: +</p> + +<p> +“But I perceive I am still in the dark. You speak of shuffling and +dealing; pray for what end? And since you seem rather unwilling to die than +otherwise, I must own that I cannot conceive what brings you here at +all.” +</p> + +<p> +“You say truly that you are in the dark,” replied Mr. Malthus with +more animation. “Why, my dear sir, this club is the temple of +intoxication. If my enfeebled health could support the excitement more often, +you may depend upon it I should be more often here. It requires all the sense +of duty engendered by a long habit of ill-health and careful regimen, to keep +me from excess in this, which is, I may say, my last dissipation. I have tried +them all, sir,” he went on, laying his hand on Geraldine’s arm, +“all without exception, and I declare to you, upon my honour, there is +not one of them that has not been grossly and untruthfully overrated. People +trifle with love. Now, I deny that love is a strong passion. Fear is the strong +passion; it is with fear that you must trifle, if you wish to taste the +intensest joys of living. Envy me—envy me, sir,” he added with a +chuckle, “I am a coward!” +</p> + +<p> +Geraldine could scarcely repress a movement of repulsion for this deplorable +wretch; but he commanded himself with an effort, and continued his inquiries. +</p> + +<p> +“How, sir,” he asked, “is the excitement so artfully +prolonged? and where is there any element of uncertainty?” +</p> + +<p> +“I must tell you how the victim for every evening is selected,” +returned Mr. Malthus; “and not only the victim, but another member, who +is to be the instrument in the club’s hands, and death’s high +priest for that occasion.” +</p> + +<p> +“Good God!” said the Colonel, “do they then kill each +other?” +</p> + +<p> +“The trouble of suicide is removed in that way,” returned Malthus +with a nod. +</p> + +<p> +“Merciful heavens!” ejaculated the Colonel, “and may +you—may I—may the—my friend I mean—may any of us be +pitched upon this evening as the slayer of another man’s body and +immortal spirit? Can such things be possible among men born of women? Oh! +infamy of infamies!” +</p> + +<p> +He was about to rise in his horror, when he caught the Prince’s eye. It +was fixed upon him from across the room with a frowning and angry stare. And in +a moment Geraldine recovered his composure. +</p> + +<p> +“After all,” he added, “why not? And since you say the game +is interesting, <i>vogue la galère</i>—I follow the club!” +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Malthus had keenly enjoyed the Colonel’s amazement and disgust. He +had the vanity of wickedness; and it pleased him to see another man give way to +a generous movement, while he felt himself, in his entire corruption, superior +to such emotions. +</p> + +<p> +“You now, after your first moment of surprise,” said he, “are +in a position to appreciate the delights of our society. You can see how it +combines the excitement of a gaming-table, a duel, and a Roman amphitheatre. +The Pagans did well enough; I cordially admire the refinement of their minds; +but it has been reserved for a Christian country to attain this extreme, this +quintessence, this absolute of poignancy. You will understand how vapid are all +amusements to a man who has acquired a taste for this one. The game we +play,” he continued, “is one of extreme simplicity. A full +pack—but I perceive you are about to see the thing in progress. Will you +lend me the help of your arm? I am unfortunately paralysed.” +</p> + +<p> +Indeed, just as Mr. Malthus was beginning his description, another pair of +folding-doors was thrown open, and the whole club began to pass, not without +some hurry, into the adjoining room. It was similar in every respect to the one +from which it was entered, but somewhat differently furnished. The centre was +occupied by a long green table, at which the President sat shuffling a pack of +cards with great particularity. Even with the stick and the Colonel’s +arm, Mr. Malthus walked with so much difficulty that every one was seated +before this pair and the Prince, who had waited for them, entered the +apartment; and, in consequence, the three took seats close together at the +lower end of the board. +</p> + +<p> +“It is a pack of fifty-two,” whispered Mr. Malthus. “Watch +for the ace of spades, which is the sign of death, and the ace of clubs, which +designates the official of the night. Happy, happy young men!” he added. +“You have good eyes, and can follow the game. Alas! I cannot tell an ace +from a deuce across the table.” +</p> + +<p> +And he proceeded to equip himself with a second pair of spectacles. +</p> + +<p> +“I must at least watch the faces,” he explained. +</p> + +<p> +The Colonel rapidly informed his friend of all that he had learned from the +honorary member, and of the horrible alternative that lay before them. The +Prince was conscious of a deadly chill and a contraction about his heart; he +swallowed with difficulty, and looked from side to side like a man in a maze. +</p> + +<p> +“One bold stroke,” whispered the Colonel, “and we may still +escape.” +</p> + +<p> +But the suggestion recalled the Prince’s spirits. +</p> + +<p> +“Silence!” said be. “Let me see that you can play like a +gentleman for any stake, however serious.” +</p> + +<p> +And he looked about him, once more to all appearance at his ease, although his +heart beat thickly, and he was conscious of an unpleasant heat in his bosom. +The members were all very quiet and intent; every one was pale, but none so +pale as Mr. Malthus. His eyes protruded; his head kept nodding involuntarily +upon his spine; his hands found their way, one after the other, to his mouth, +where they made clutches at his tremulous and ashen lips. It was plain that the +honorary member enjoyed his membership on very startling terms. +</p> + +<p> +“Attention, gentlemen!” said the President. +</p> + +<p> +And he began slowly dealing the cards about the table in the reverse direction, +pausing until each man had shown his card. Nearly every one hesitated; and +sometimes you would see a player’s fingers stumble more than once before +he could turn over the momentous slip of pasteboard. As the Prince’s turn +drew nearer, he was conscious of a growing and almost suffocating excitement; +but he had somewhat of the gambler’s nature, and recognised almost with +astonishment, that there was a degree of pleasure in his sensations. The nine +of clubs fell to his lot; the three of spades was dealt to Geraldine; and the +queen of hearts to Mr. Malthus, who was unable to suppress a sob of relief. The +young man of the cream tarts almost immediately afterwards turned over the ace +of clubs, and remained frozen with horror, the card still resting on his +finger; he had not come there to kill, but to be killed; and the Prince in his +generous sympathy with his position almost forgot the peril that still hung +over himself and his friend. +</p> + +<p> +The deal was coming round again, and still Death’s card had not come out. +The players held their respiration, and only breathed by gasps. The Prince +received another club; Geraldine had a diamond; but when Mr. Malthus turned up +his card a horrible noise, like that of something breaking, issued from his +mouth; and he rose from his seat and sat down again, with no sign of his +paralysis. It was the ace of spades. The honorary member had trifled once too +often with his terrors. +</p> + +<p> +Conversation broke out again almost at once. The players relaxed their rigid +attitudes, and began to rise from the table and stroll back by twos and threes +into the smoking-room. The President stretched his arms and yawned, like a man +who has finished his day’s work. But Mr. Malthus sat in his place, with +his head in his hands, and his hands upon the table, drunk and +motionless—a thing stricken down. +</p> + +<p> +The Prince and Geraldine made their escape at once. In the cold night air their +horror of what they had witnessed was redoubled. +</p> + +<p> +“Alas!” cried the Prince, “to be bound by an oath in such a +matter! to allow this wholesale trade in murder to be continued with profit and +impunity! If I but dared to forfeit my pledge!” +</p> + +<p> +“That is impossible for your Highness,” replied the Colonel, +“whose honour is the honour of Bohemia. But I dare, and may with +propriety, forfeit mine.” +</p> + +<p> +“Geraldine,” said the Prince, “if your honour suffers in any +of the adventures into which you follow me, not only will I never pardon you, +but—what I believe will much more sensibly affect you—I should +never forgive myself.” +</p> + +<p> +“I receive your Highness’s commands,” replied the Colonel. +“Shall we go from this accursed spot?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” said the Prince. “Call a cab in Heaven’s name, +and let me try to forget in slumber the memory of this night’s +disgrace.” +</p> + +<p> +But it was notable that he carefully read the name of the court before he left +it. +</p> + +<p> +The next morning, as soon as the Prince was stirring, Colonel Geraldine brought +him a daily newspaper, with the following paragraph marked:— +</p> + +<p> +“<span class="smcap">Melancholy Accident</span>.—This morning, +about two o’clock, Mr. Bartholomew Malthus, of 16 Chepstow Place, +Westbourne Grove, on his way home from a party at a friend’s house, fell +over the upper parapet in Trafalgar Square, fracturing his skull and breaking a +leg and an arm. Death was instantaneous. Mr. Malthus, accompanied by a friend, +was engaged in looking for a cab at the time of the unfortunate occurrence. As +Mr. Malthus was paralytic, it is thought that his fall may have been occasioned +by another seizure. The unhappy gentleman was well known in the most +respectable circles, and his loss will be widely and deeply deplored.” +</p> + +<p> +“If ever a soul went straight to Hell,” said Geraldine solemnly, +“it was that paralytic man’s.” +</p> + +<p> +The Prince buried his face in his hands, and remained silent. +</p> + +<p> +“I am almost rejoiced,” continued the Colonel, “to know that +he is dead. But for our young man of the cream tarts I confess my heart +bleeds.” +</p> + +<p> +“Geraldine,” said the Prince, raising his face, “that unhappy +lad was last night as innocent as you and I; and this morning the guilt of +blood is on his soul. When I think of the President, my heart grows sick within +me. I do not know how it shall be done, but I shall have that scoundrel at my +mercy as there is a God in heaven. What an experience, what a lesson, was that +game of cards!” +</p> + +<p> +“One,” said the Colonel, “never to be repeated.” +</p> + +<p> +The Prince remained so long without replying, that Geraldine grew alarmed. +</p> + +<p> +“You cannot mean to return,” he said. “You have suffered too +much and seen too much horror already. The duties of your high position forbid +the repetition of the hazard.” +</p> + +<p> +“There is much in what you say,” replied Prince Florizel, +“and I am not altogether pleased with my own determination. Alas! in the +clothes of the greatest potentate, what is there but a man? I never felt my +weakness more acutely than now, Geraldine, but it is stronger than I. Can I +cease to interest myself in the fortunes of the unhappy young man who supped +with us some hours ago? Can I leave the President to follow his nefarious +career unwatched? Can I begin an adventure so entrancing, and not follow it to +an end? No, Geraldine: you ask of the Prince more than the man is able to +perform. To-night, once more, we take our places at the table of the Suicide +Club.” +</p> + +<p> +Colonel Geraldine fell upon his knees. +</p> + +<p> +“Will your Highness take my life?” he cried. “It is +his—his freely; but do not, O do not! let him ask me to countenance so +terrible a risk.” +</p> + +<p> +“Colonel Geraldine,” replied the Prince, with some haughtiness of +manner, “your life is absolutely your own. I only looked for obedience; +and when that is unwillingly rendered, I shall look for that no longer. I add +one word: your importunity in this affair has been sufficient.” +</p> + +<p> +The Master of the Horse regained his feet at once. +</p> + +<p> +“Your Highness,” he said, “may I be excused in my attendance +this afternoon? I dare not, as an honourable man, venture a second time into +that fatal house until I have perfectly ordered my affairs. Your Highness shall +meet, I promise him, with no more opposition from the most devoted and grateful +of his servants.” +</p> + +<p> +“My dear Geraldine,” returned Prince Florizel, “I always +regret when you oblige me to remember my rank. Dispose of your day as you think +fit, but be here before eleven in the same disguise.” +</p> + +<p> +The club, on this second evening, was not so fully attended; and when Geraldine +and the Prince arrived, there were not above half-a-dozen persons in the +smoking-room. His Highness took the President aside and congratulated him +warmly on the demise of Mr. Malthus. +</p> + +<p> +“I like,” he said, “to meet with capacity, and certainly find +much of it in you. Your profession is of a very delicate nature, but I see you +are well qualified to conduct it with success and secrecy.” +</p> + +<p> +The President was somewhat affected by these compliments from one of his +Highness’s superior bearing. He acknowledged them almost with humility. +</p> + +<p> +“Poor Malthy!” he added, “I shall hardly know the club +without him. The most of my patrons are boys, sir, and poetical boys, who are +not much company for me. Not but what Malthy had some poetry, too; but it was +of a kind that I could understand.” +</p> + +<p> +“I can readily imagine you should find yourself in sympathy with Mr. +Malthus,” returned the Prince. “He struck me as a man of a very +original disposition.” +</p> + +<p> +The young man of the cream tarts was in the room, but painfully depressed and +silent. His late companions sought in vain to lead him into conversation. +</p> + +<p> +“How bitterly I wish,” he cried, “that I had never brought +you to this infamous abode! Begone, while you are clean-handed. If you could +have heard the old man scream as he fell, and the noise of his bones upon the +pavement! Wish me, if you have any kindness to so fallen a being—wish the +ace of spades for me to-night!” +</p> + +<p> +A few more members dropped in as the evening went on, but the club did not +muster more than the devil’s dozen when they took their places at the +table. The Prince was again conscious of a certain joy in his alarms; but he +was astonished to see Geraldine so much more self-possessed than on the night +before. +</p> + +<p> +“It is extraordinary,” thought the Prince, “that a will, made +or unmade, should so greatly influence a young man’s spirit.” +</p> + +<p> +“Attention, gentlemen!” said the President, and he began to deal. +</p> + +<p> +Three times the cards went all round the table, and neither of the marked cards +had yet fallen from his hand. The excitement as he began the fourth +distribution was overwhelming. There were just cards enough to go once more +entirely round. The Prince, who sat second from the dealer’s left, would +receive, in the reverse mode of dealing practised at the club, the second last +card. The third player turned up a black ace—it was the ace of clubs. The +next received a diamond, the next a heart, and so on; but the ace of spades was +still undelivered. At last, Geraldine, who sat upon the Prince’s left, +turned his card; it was an ace, but the ace of hearts. +</p> + +<p> +When Prince Florizel saw his fate upon the table in front of him, his heart +stood still. He was a brave man, but the sweat poured off his face. There were +exactly fifty chances out of a hundred that he was doomed. He reversed the +card; it was the ace of spades. A loud roaring filled his brain, and the table +swam before his eyes. He heard the player on his right break into a fit of +laughter that sounded between mirth and disappointment; he saw the company +rapidly dispersing, but his mind was full of other thoughts. He recognised how +foolish, how criminal, had been his conduct. In perfect health, in the prime of +his years, the heir to a throne, he had gambled away his future and that of a +brave and loyal country. “God,” he cried, “God forgive +me!” And with that, the confusion of his senses passed away, and he +regained his self-possession in a moment. +</p> + +<p> +To his surprise Geraldine had disappeared. There was no one in the card-room +but his destined butcher consulting with the President, and the young man of +the cream tarts, who slipped up to the Prince, and whispered in his ear:— +</p> + +<p> +“I would give a million, if I had it, for your luck.” +</p> + +<p> +His Highness could not help reflecting, as the young man departed, that he +would have sold his opportunity for a much more moderate sum. +</p> + +<p> +The whispered conference now came to an end. The holder of the ace of clubs +left the room with a look of intelligence, and the President, approaching the +unfortunate Prince, proffered him his hand. +</p> + +<p> +“I am pleased to have met you, sir,” said he, “and pleased to +have been in a position to do you this trifling service. At least, you cannot +complain of delay. On the second evening—what a stroke of luck!” +</p> + +<p> +The Prince endeavoured in vain to articulate something in response, but his +mouth was dry and his tongue seemed paralysed. +</p> + +<p> +“You feel a little sickish?” asked the President, with some show of +solicitude. “Most gentlemen do. Will you take a little brandy?” +</p> + +<p> +The Prince signified in the affirmative, and the other immediately filled some +of the spirit into a tumbler. +</p> + +<p> +“Poor old Malthy!” ejaculated the President, as the Prince drained +the glass. “He drank near upon a pint, and little enough good it seemed +to do him!” +</p> + +<p> +“I am more amenable to treatment,” said the Prince, a good deal +revived. “I am my own man again at once, as you perceive. And so, let me +ask you, what are my directions?” +</p> + +<p> +“You will proceed along the Strand in the direction of the City, and on +the left-hand pavement, until you meet the gentleman who has just left the +room. He will continue your instructions, and him you will have the kindness to +obey; the authority of the club is vested in his person for the night. And +now,” added the President, “I wish you a pleasant walk.” +</p> + +<p> +Florizel acknowledged the salutation rather awkwardly, and took his leave. He +passed through the smoking-room, where the bulk of the players were still +consuming champagne, some of which he had himself ordered and paid for; and he +was surprised to find himself cursing them in his heart. He put on his hat and +greatcoat in the cabinet, and selected his umbrella from a corner. The +familiarity of these acts, and the thought that he was about them for the last +time, betrayed him into a fit of laughter which sounded unpleasantly in his own +ears. He conceived a reluctance to leave the cabinet, and turned instead to the +window. The sight of the lamps and the darkness recalled him to himself. +</p> + +<p> +“Come, come, I must be a man,” he thought, “and tear myself +away.” +</p> + +<p> +At the corner of Box Court three men fell upon Prince Florizel and he was +unceremoniously thrust into a carriage, which at once drove rapidly away. There +was already an occupant. +</p> + +<p> +“Will your Highness pardon my zeal?” said a well known voice. +</p> + +<p> +The Prince threw himself upon the Colonel’s neck in a passion of relief. +</p> + +<p> +“How can I ever thank you?” he cried. “And how was this +effected?” +</p> + +<p> +Although he had been willing to march upon his doom, he was overjoyed to yield +to friendly violence, and return once more to life and hope. +</p> + +<p> +“You can thank me effectually enough,” replied the Colonel, +“by avoiding all such dangers in the future. And as for your second +question, all has been managed by the simplest means. I arranged this afternoon +with a celebrated detective. Secrecy has been promised and paid for. Your own +servants have been principally engaged in the affair. The house in Box Court +has been surrounded since nightfall, and this, which is one of your own +carriages, has been awaiting you for nearly an hour.” +</p> + +<p> +“And the miserable creature who was to have slain me—what of +him?” inquired the Prince. +</p> + +<p> +“He was pinioned as he left the club,” replied the Colonel, +“and now awaits your sentence at the Palace, where he will soon be joined +by his accomplices.” +</p> + +<p> +“Geraldine,” said the Prince, “you have saved me against my +explicit orders, and you have done well. I owe you not only my life, but a +lesson; and I should be unworthy of my rank if I did not show myself grateful +to my teacher. Let it be yours to choose the manner.” +</p> + +<p> +There was a pause, during which the carriage continued to speed through the +streets, and the two men were each buried in his own reflections. The silence +was broken by Colonel Geraldine. +</p> + +<p> +“Your Highness,” said he, “has by this time a considerable +body of prisoners. There is at least one criminal among the number to whom +justice should be dealt. Our oath forbids us all recourse to law; and +discretion would forbid it equally if the oath were loosened. May I inquire +your Highness’s intention?” +</p> + +<p> +“It is decided,” answered Florizel; “the President must fall +in duel. It only remains to choose his adversary.” +</p> + +<p> +“Your Highness has permitted me to name my own recompense,” said +the Colonel. “Will he permit me to ask the appointment of my brother? It +is an honourable post, but I dare assure your Highness that the lad will acquit +himself with credit.” +</p> + +<p> +“You ask me an ungracious favour,” said the Prince, “but I +must refuse you nothing.” +</p> + +<p> +The Colonel kissed his hand with the greatest affection; and at that moment the +carriage rolled under the archway of the Prince’s splendid residence. +</p> + +<p> +An hour after, Florizel in his official robes, and covered with all the orders +of Bohemia, received the members of the Suicide Club. +</p> + +<p> +“Foolish and wicked men,” said he, “as many of you as have +been driven into this strait by the lack of fortune shall receive employment +and remuneration from my officers. Those who suffer under a sense of guilt must +have recourse to a higher and more generous Potentate than I. I feel pity for +all of you, deeper than you can imagine; to-morrow you shall tell me your +stories; and as you answer more frankly, I shall be the more able to remedy +your misfortunes. As for you,” he added, turning to the President, +“I should only offend a person of your parts by any offer of assistance; +but I have instead a piece of diversion to propose to you. Here,” laying +his hand on the shoulder of Colonel Geraldine’s young brother, “is +an officer of mine who desires to make a little tour upon the Continent; and I +ask you, as a favour, to accompany him on this excursion. Do you,” he +went on, changing his tone, “do you shoot well with the pistol? Because +you may have need of that accomplishment. When two men go travelling together, +it is best to be prepared for all. Let me add that, if by any chance you should +lose young Mr. Geraldine upon the way, I shall always have another member of my +household to place at your disposal; and I am known, Mr. President, to have +long eyesight, and as long an arm.” +</p> + +<p> +With these words, said with much sternness, the Prince concluded his address. +Next morning the members of the club were suitably provided for by his +munificence, and the President set forth upon his travels, under the +supervision of Mr. Geraldine, and a pair of faithful and adroit lackeys, well +trained in the Prince’s household. Not content with this, discreet agents +were put in possession of the house in Box Court, and all letters or visitors +for the Suicide Club or its officials were to be examined by Prince Florizel in +person. +</p> + +<div class="gapspace"> </div> + +<p> +<i>Here</i> (says my Arabian author) <i>ends</i> <span class="smcap">The Story +of the Young Man with the Cream Tarts</span>, <i>who is now a comfortable +householder in Wigmore Street</i>, <i>Cavendish Square</i>. <i>The number</i>, +<i>for obvious reasons</i>, <i>I suppress</i>. <i>Those who care to pursue the +adventures of Prince Florizel and the President of the Suicide Club</i>, <i>may +read the</i> <span class="smcap">History of the Physician and the Saratoga +Trunk</span>. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap03"></a>STORY OF THE PHYSICIAN AND THE SARATOGA TRUNK</h3> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">Mr. Silas Q. Scuddamore</span> was a young American of a +simple and harmless disposition, which was the more to his credit as he came +from New England—a quarter of the New World not precisely famous for +those qualities. Although he was exceedingly rich, he kept a note of all his +expenses in a little paper pocket-book; and he had chosen to study the +attractions of Paris from the seventh story of what is called a furnished +hotel, in the Latin Quarter. There was a great deal of habit in his +penuriousness; and his virtue, which was very remarkable among his associates, +was principally founded upon diffidence and youth. +</p> + +<p> +The next room to his was inhabited by a lady, very attractive in her air and +very elegant in toilette, whom, on his first arrival, he had taken for a +Countess. In course of time he had learned that she was known by the name of +Madame Zéphyrine, and that whatever station she occupied in life it was not +that of a person of title. Madame Zéphyrine, probably in the hope of enchanting +the young American, used to flaunt by him on the stairs with a civil +inclination, a word of course, and a knock-down look out of her black eyes, and +disappear in a rustle of silk, and with the revelation of an admirable foot and +ankle. But these advances, so far from encouraging Mr. Scuddamore, plunged him +into the depths of depression and bashfulness. She had come to him several +times for a light, or to apologise for the imaginary depredations of her +poodle; but his mouth was closed in the presence of so superior a being, his +French promptly left him, and he could only stare and stammer until she was +gone. The slenderness of their intercourse did not prevent him from throwing +out insinuations of a very glorious order when he was safely alone with a few +males. +</p> + +<p> +The room on the other side of the American’s—for there were three +rooms on a floor in the hotel—was tenanted by an old English physician of +rather doubtful reputation. Dr. Noel, for that was his name, had been forced to +leave London, where he enjoyed a large and increasing practice; and it was +hinted that the police had been the instigators of this change of scene. At +least he, who had made something of a figure in earlier life, now dwelt in the +Latin Quarter in great simplicity and solitude, and devoted much of his time to +study. Mr. Scuddamore had made his acquaintance, and the pair would now and +then dine together frugally in a restaurant across the street. +</p> + +<p> +Silas Q. Scuddamore had many little vices of the more respectable order, and +was not restrained by delicacy from indulging them in many rather doubtful +ways. Chief among his foibles stood curiosity. He was a born gossip; and life, +and especially those parts of it in which he had no experience, interested him +to the degree of passion. He was a pert, invincible questioner, pushing his +inquiries with equal pertinacity and indiscretion; he had been observed, when +he took a letter to the post, to weigh it in his hand, to turn it over and +over, and to study the address with care; and when he found a flaw in the +partition between his room and Madame Zéphyrine’s, instead of filling it +up, he enlarged and improved the opening, and made use of it as a spy-hole on +his neighbour’s affairs. +</p> + +<p> +One day, in the end of March, his curiosity growing as it was indulged, he +enlarged the hole a little further, so that he might command another corner of +the room. That evening, when he went as usual to inspect Madame +Zéphyrine’s movements, he was astonished to find the aperture obscured in +an odd manner on the other side, and still more abashed when the obstacle was +suddenly withdrawn and a titter of laughter reached his ears. Some of the +plaster had evidently betrayed the secret of his spy-hole, and his neighbour +had been returning the compliment in kind. Mr. Scuddamore was moved to a very +acute feeling of annoyance; he condemned Madame Zéphyrine unmercifully; he even +blamed himself; but when he found, next day, that she had taken no means to +baulk him of his favourite pastime, he continued to profit by her carelessness, +and gratify his idle curiosity. +</p> + +<p> +That next day Madame Zéphyrine received a long visit from a tall, loosely-built +man of fifty or upwards, whom Silas had not hitherto seen. His tweed suit and +coloured shirt, no less than his shaggy side-whiskers, identified him as a +Britisher, and his dull grey eye affected Silas with a sense of cold. He kept +screwing his mouth from side to side and round and round during the whole +colloquy, which was carried on in whispers. More than once it seemed to the +young New Englander as if their gestures indicated his own apartment; but the +only thing definite he could gather by the most scrupulous attention was this +remark made by the Englishman in a somewhat higher key, as if in answer to some +reluctance or opposition. +</p> + +<p> +“I have studied his taste to a nicety, and I tell you again and again you +are the only woman of the sort that I can lay my hands on.” +</p> + +<p> +In answer to this, Madame Zéphyrine sighed, and appeared by a gesture to resign +herself, like one yielding to unqualified authority. +</p> + +<p> +That afternoon the observatory was finally blinded, a wardrobe having been +drawn in front of it upon the other side; and while Silas was still lamenting +over this misfortune, which he attributed to the Britisher’s malign +suggestion, the concierge brought him up a letter in a female handwriting. It +was conceived in French of no very rigorous orthography, bore no signature, and +in the most encouraging terms invited the young American to be present in a +certain part of the Bullier Ball at eleven o’clock that night. Curiosity +and timidity fought a long battle in his heart; sometimes he was all virtue, +sometimes all fire and daring; and the result of it was that, long before ten, +Mr. Silas Q. Scuddamore presented himself in unimpeachable attire at the door +of the Bullier Ball Rooms, and paid his entry money with a sense of reckless +devilry that was not without its charm. +</p> + +<p> +It was Carnival time, and the Ball was very full and noisy. The lights and the +crowd at first rather abashed our young adventurer, and then, mounting to his +brain with a sort of intoxication, put him in possession of more than his own +share of manhood. He felt ready to face the devil, and strutted in the ballroom +with the swagger of a cavalier. While he was thus parading, he became aware of +Madame Zéphyrine and her Britisher in conference behind a pillar. The cat-like +spirit of eaves-dropping overcame him at once. He stole nearer and nearer on +the couple from behind, until he was within earshot. +</p> + +<p> +“That is the man,” the Britisher was saying; +“there—with the long blond hair—speaking to a girl in +green.” +</p> + +<p> +Silas identified a very handsome young fellow of small stature, who was plainly +the object of this designation. +</p> + +<p> +“It is well,” said Madame Zéphyrine. “I shall do my utmost. +But, remember, the best of us may fail in such a matter.” +</p> + +<p> +“Tut!” returned her companion; “I answer for the result. Have +I not chosen you from thirty? Go; but be wary of the Prince. I cannot think +what cursed accident has brought him here to-night. As if there were not a +dozen balls in Paris better worth his notice than this riot of students and +counter-jumpers! See him where he sits, more like a reigning Emperor at home +than a Prince upon his holidays!” +</p> + +<p> +Silas was again lucky. He observed a person of rather a full build, strikingly +handsome, and of a very stately and courteous demeanour, seated at table with +another handsome young man, several years his junior, who addressed him with +conspicuous deference. The name of Prince struck gratefully on Silas’s +Republican hearing, and the aspect of the person to whom that name was applied +exercised its usual charm upon his mind. He left Madame Zéphyrine and her +Englishman to take care of each other, and threading his way through the +assembly, approached the table which the Prince and his confidant had honoured +with their choice. +</p> + +<p> +“I tell you, Geraldine,” the former was saying, “the action +is madness. Yourself (I am glad to remember it) chose your brother for this +perilous service, and you are bound in duty to have a guard upon his conduct. +He has consented to delay so many days in Paris; that was already an +imprudence, considering the character of the man he has to deal with; but now, +when he is within eight-and-forty hours of his departure, when he is within two +or three days of the decisive trial, I ask you, is this a place for him to +spend his time? He should be in a gallery at practice; he should be sleeping +long hours and taking moderate exercise on foot; he should be on a rigorous +diet, without white wines or brandy. Does the dog imagine we are all playing +comedy? The thing is deadly earnest, Geraldine.” +</p> + +<p> +“I know the lad too well to interfere,” replied Colonel Geraldine, +“and well enough not to be alarmed. He is more cautious than you fancy, +and of an indomitable spirit. If it had been a woman I should not say so much, +but I trust the President to him and the two valets without an instant’s +apprehension.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am gratified to hear you say so,” replied the Prince; “but +my mind is not at rest. These servants are well-trained spies, and already has +not this miscreant succeeded three times in eluding their observation and +spending several hours on end in private, and most likely dangerous, affairs? +An amateur might have lost him by accident, but if Rudolph and Jérome were +thrown off the scent, it must have been done on purpose, and by a man who had a +cogent reason and exceptional resources.” +</p> + +<p> +“I believe the question is now one between my brother and myself,” +replied Geraldine, with a shade of offence in his tone. +</p> + +<p> +“I permit it to be so, Colonel Geraldine,” returned Prince +Florizel. “Perhaps, for that very reason, you should be all the more +ready to accept my counsels. But enough. That girl in yellow dances +well.” +</p> + +<p> +And the talk veered into the ordinary topics of a Paris ballroom in the +Carnival. +</p> + +<p> +Silas remembered where he was, and that the hour was already near at hand when +he ought to be upon the scene of his assignation. The more he reflected the +less he liked the prospect, and as at that moment an eddy in the crowd began to +draw him in the direction of the door, he suffered it to carry him away without +resistance. The eddy stranded him in a corner under the gallery, where his ear +was immediately struck with the voice of Madame Zéphyrine. She was speaking in +French with the young man of the blond locks who had been pointed out by the +strange Britisher not half-an-hour before. +</p> + +<p> +“I have a character at stake,” she said, “or I would put no +other condition than my heart recommends. But you have only to say so much to +the porter, and he will let you go by without a word.” +</p> + +<p> +“But why this talk of debt?” objected her companion. +</p> + +<p> +“Heavens!” said she, “do you think I do not understand my own +hotel?” +</p> + +<p> +And she went by, clinging affectionately to her companion’s arm. +</p> + +<p> +This put Silas in mind of his billet. +</p> + +<p> +“Ten minutes hence,” thought he, “and I may be walking with +as beautiful a woman as that, and even better dressed—perhaps a real +lady, possibly a woman or title.” +</p> + +<p> +And then he remembered the spelling, and was a little downcast. +</p> + +<p> +“But it may have been written by her maid,” he imagined. +</p> + +<p> +The clock was only a few minutes from the hour, and this immediate proximity +set his heart beating at a curious and rather disagreeable speed. He reflected +with relief that he was in no way bound to put in an appearance. Virtue and +cowardice were together, and he made once more for the door, but this time of +his own accord, and battling against the stream of people which was now moving +in a contrary direction. Perhaps this prolonged resistance wearied him, or +perhaps he was in that frame of mind when merely to continue in the same +determination for a certain number of minutes produces a reaction and a +different purpose. Certainly, at least, he wheeled about for a third time, and +did not stop until he had found a place of concealment within a few yards of +the appointed place. +</p> + +<p> +Here he went through an agony of spirit, in which he several times prayed to +God for help, for Silas had been devoutly educated. He had now not the least +inclination for the meeting; nothing kept him from flight but a silly fear lest +he should be thought unmanly; but this was so powerful that it kept head +against all other motives; and although it could not decide him to advance, +prevented him from definitely running away. At last the clock indicated ten +minutes past the hour. Young Scuddamore’s spirit began to rise; he peered +round the corner and saw no one at the place of meeting; doubtless his unknown +correspondent had wearied and gone away. He became as bold as he had formerly +been timid. It seemed to him that if he came at all to the appointment, however +late, he was clear from the charge of cowardice. Nay, now he began to suspect a +hoax, and actually complimented himself on his shrewdness in having suspected +and outmanoeuvred his mystifiers. So very idle a thing is a boy’s mind! +</p> + +<p> +Armed with these reflections, he advanced boldly from his corner; but he had +not taken above a couple of steps before a hand was laid upon his arm. He +turned and beheld a lady cast in a very large mould and with somewhat stately +features, but bearing no mark of severity in her looks. +</p> + +<p> +“I see that you are a very self-confident lady-killer,” said she; +“for you make yourself expected. But I was determined to meet you. When a +woman has once so far forgotten herself as to make the first advance, she has +long ago left behind her all considerations of petty pride.” +</p> + +<p> +Silas was overwhelmed by the size and attractions of his correspondent and the +suddenness with which she had fallen upon him. But she soon set him at his +ease. She was very towardly and lenient in her behaviour; she led him on to +make pleasantries, and then applauded him to the echo; and in a very short +time, between blandishments and a liberal exhibition of warm brandy, she had +not only induced him to fancy himself in love, but to declare his passion with +the greatest vehemence. +</p> + +<p> +“Alas!” she said; “I do not know whether I ought not to +deplore this moment, great as is the pleasure you give me by your words. +Hitherto I was alone to suffer; now, poor boy, there will be two. I am not my +own mistress. I dare not ask you to visit me at my own house, for I am watched +by jealous eyes. Let me see,” she added; “I am older than you, +although so much weaker; and while I trust in your courage and determination, I +must employ my own knowledge of the world for our mutual benefit. Where do you +live?” +</p> + +<p> +He told her that he lodged in a furnished hotel, and named the street and +number. +</p> + +<p> +She seemed to reflect for some minutes, with an effort of mind. +</p> + +<p> +“I see,” she said at last. “You will be faithful and +obedient, will you not?” +</p> + +<p> +Silas assured her eagerly of his fidelity. +</p> + +<p> +“To-morrow night, then,” she continued, with an encouraging smile, +“you must remain at home all the evening; and if any friends should visit +you, dismiss them at once on any pretext that most readily presents itself. +Your door is probably shut by ten?” she asked. +</p> + +<p> +“By eleven,” answered Silas. +</p> + +<p> +“At a quarter past eleven,” pursued the lady, “leave the +house. Merely cry for the door to be opened, and be sure you fall into no talk +with the porter, as that might ruin everything. Go straight to the corner where +the Luxembourg Gardens join the Boulevard; there you will find me waiting you. +I trust you to follow my advice from point to point: and remember, if you fail +me in only one particular, you will bring the sharpest trouble on a woman whose +only fault is to have seen and loved you.” +</p> + +<p> +“I cannot see the use of all these instructions,” said Silas. +</p> + +<p> +“I believe you are already beginning to treat me as a master,” she +cried, tapping him with her fan upon the arm. “Patience, patience! that +should come in time. A woman loves to be obeyed at first, although afterwards +she finds her pleasure in obeying. Do as I ask you, for Heaven’s sake, or +I will answer for nothing. Indeed, now I think of it,” she added, with +the manner of one who has just seen further into a difficulty, “I find a +better plan of keeping importunate visitors away. Tell the porter to admit no +one for you, except a person who may come that night to claim a debt; and speak +with some feeling, as though you feared the interview, so that he may take your +words in earnest.” +</p> + +<p> +“I think you may trust me to protect myself against intruders,” he +said, not without a little pique. +</p> + +<p> +“That is how I should prefer the thing arranged,” she answered +coldly. “I know you men; you think nothing of a woman’s +reputation.” +</p> + +<p> +Silas blushed and somewhat hung his head; for the scheme he had in view had +involved a little vain-glorying before his acquaintances. +</p> + +<p> +“Above all,” she added, “do not speak to the porter as you +come out.” +</p> + +<p> +“And why?” said he. “Of all your instructions, that seems to +me the least important.” +</p> + +<p> +“You at first doubted the wisdom of some of the others, which you now see +to be very necessary,” she replied. “Believe me, this also has its +uses; in time you will see them; and what am I to think of your affection, if +you refuse me such trifles at our first interview?” +</p> + +<p> +Silas confounded himself in explanations and apologies; in the middle of these +she looked up at the clock and clapped her hands together with a suppressed +scream. +</p> + +<p> +“Heavens!” she cried, “is it so late? I have not an instant +to lose. Alas, we poor women, what slaves we are! What have I not risked for +you already?” +</p> + +<p> +And after repeating her directions, which she artfully combined with caresses +and the most abandoned looks, she bade him farewell and disappeared among the +crowd. +</p> + +<p> +The whole of the next day Silas was filled with a sense of great importance; he +was now sure she was a countess; and when evening came he minutely obeyed her +orders and was at the corner of the Luxembourg Gardens by the hour appointed. +No one was there. He waited nearly half-an-hour, looking in the face of every +one who passed or loitered near the spot; he even visited the neighbouring +corners of the Boulevard and made a complete circuit of the garden railings; +but there was no beautiful countess to throw herself into his arms. At last, +and most reluctantly, he began to retrace his steps towards his hotel. On the +way he remembered the words he had heard pass between Madame Zéphyrine and the +blond young man, and they gave him an indefinite uneasiness. +</p> + +<p> +“It appears,” he reflected, “that every one has to tell lies +to our porter.” +</p> + +<p> +He rang the bell, the door opened before him, and the porter in his bed-clothes +came to offer him a light. +</p> + +<p> +“Has he gone?” inquired the porter. +</p> + +<p> +“He? Whom do you mean?” asked Silas, somewhat sharply, for he was +irritated by his disappointment. +</p> + +<p> +“I did not notice him go out,” continued the porter, “but I +trust you paid him. We do not care, in this house, to have lodgers who cannot +meet their liabilities.” +</p> + +<p> +“What the devil do you mean?” demanded Silas rudely. “I +cannot understand a word of this farrago.” +</p> + +<p> +“The short blond young man who came for his debt,” returned the +other. “Him it is I mean. Who else should it be, when I had your orders +to admit no one else?” +</p> + +<p> +“Why, good God, of course he never came,” retorted Silas. +</p> + +<p> +“I believe what I believe,” returned the porter, putting his tongue +into his cheek with a most roguish air. +</p> + +<p> +“You are an insolent scoundrel,” cried Silas, and, feeling that he +had made a ridiculous exhibition of asperity, and at the same time bewildered +by a dozen alarms, he turned and began to run upstairs. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you not want a light then?” cried the porter. +</p> + +<p> +But Silas only hurried the faster, and did not pause until he had reached the +seventh landing and stood in front of his own door. There he waited a moment to +recover his breath, assailed by the worst forebodings and almost dreading to +enter the room. +</p> + +<p> +When at last he did so he was relieved to find it dark, and to all appearance, +untenanted. He drew a long breath. Here he was, home again in safety, and this +should be his last folly as certainly as it had been his first. The matches +stood on a little table by the bed, and he began to grope his way in that +direction. As he moved, his apprehensions grew upon him once more, and he was +pleased, when his foot encountered an obstacle, to find it nothing more +alarming than a chair. At last he touched curtains. From the position of the +window, which was faintly visible, he knew he must be at the foot of the bed, +and had only to feel his way along it in order to reach the table in question. +</p> + +<p> +He lowered his hand, but what it touched was not simply a counterpane—it +was a counterpane with something underneath it like the outline of a human leg. +Silas withdrew his arm and stood a moment petrified. +</p> + +<p> +“What, what,” he thought, “can this betoken?” +</p> + +<p> +He listened intently, but there was no sound of breathing. Once more, with a +great effort, he reached out the end of his finger to the spot he had already +touched; but this time he leaped back half a yard, and stood shivering and +fixed with terror. There was something in his bed. What it was he knew not, but +there was something there. +</p> + +<p> +It was some seconds before he could move. Then, guided by an instinct, he fell +straight upon the matches, and keeping his back towards the bed lighted a +candle. As soon as the flame had kindled, he turned slowly round and looked for +what he feared to see. Sure enough, there was the worst of his imaginations +realised. The coverlid was drawn carefully up over the pillow, but it moulded +the outline of a human body lying motionless; and when he dashed forward and +flung aside the sheets, he beheld the blond young man whom he had seen in the +Bullier Ball the night before, his eyes open and without speculation, his face +swollen and blackened, and a thin stream of blood trickling from his nostrils. +</p> + +<p> +Silas uttered a long, tremulous wail, dropped the candle, and fell on his knees +beside the bed. +</p> + +<p> +Silas was awakened from the stupor into which his terrible discovery had +plunged him by a prolonged but discreet tapping at the door. It took him some +seconds to remember his position; and when he hastened to prevent anyone from +entering it was already too late. Dr. Noel, in a tall night-cap, carrying a +lamp which lighted up his long white countenance, sidling in his gait, and +peering and cocking his head like some sort of bird, pushed the door slowly +open, and advanced into the middle of the room. +</p> + +<p> +“I thought I heard a cry,” began the Doctor, “and fearing you +might be unwell I did not hesitate to offer this intrusion.” +</p> + +<p> +Silas, with a flushed face and a fearful beating heart, kept between the Doctor +and the bed; but he found no voice to answer. +</p> + +<p> +“You are in the dark,” pursued the Doctor; “and yet you have +not even begun to prepare for rest. You will not easily persuade me against my +own eyesight; and your face declares most eloquently that you require either a +friend or a physician—which is it to be? Let me feel your pulse, for that +is often a just reporter of the heart.” +</p> + +<p> +He advanced to Silas, who still retreated before him backwards, and sought to +take him by the wrist; but the strain on the young American’s nerves had +become too great for endurance. He avoided the Doctor with a febrile movement, +and, throwing himself upon the floor, burst into a flood of weeping. +</p> + +<p> +As soon as Dr. Noel perceived the dead man in the bed his face darkened; and +hurrying back to the door which he had left ajar, he hastily closed and +double-locked it. +</p> + +<p> +“Up!” he cried, addressing Silas in strident tones; “this is +no time for weeping. What have you done? How came this body in your room? Speak +freely to one who may be helpful. Do you imagine I would ruin you? Do you think +this piece of dead flesh on your pillow can alter in any degree the sympathy +with which you have inspired me? Credulous youth, the horror with which blind +and unjust law regards an action never attaches to the doer in the eyes of +those who love him; and if I saw the friend of my heart return to me out of +seas of blood he would be in no way changed in my affection. Raise +yourself,” he said; “good and ill are a chimera; there is nought in +life except destiny, and however you may be circumstanced there is one at your +side who will help you to the last.” +</p> + +<p> +Thus encouraged, Silas gathered himself together, and in a broken voice, and +helped out by the Doctor’s interrogations, contrived at last to put him +in possession of the facts. But the conversation between the Prince and +Geraldine he altogether omitted, as he had understood little of its purport, +and had no idea that it was in any way related to his own misadventure. +</p> + +<p> +“Alas!” cried Dr. Noel, “I am much abused, or you have fallen +innocently into the most dangerous hands in Europe. Poor boy, what a pit has +been dug for your simplicity! into what a deadly peril have your unwary feet +been conducted! This man,” he said, “this Englishman, whom you +twice saw, and whom I suspect to be the soul of the contrivance, can you +describe him? Was he young or old? tall or short?” +</p> + +<p> +But Silas, who, for all his curiosity, had not a seeing eye in his head, was +able to supply nothing but meagre generalities, which it was impossible to +recognise. +</p> + +<p> +“I would have it a piece of education in all schools!” cried the +Doctor angrily. “Where is the use of eyesight and articulate speech if a +man cannot observe and recollect the features of his enemy? I, who know all the +gangs of Europe, might have identified him, and gained new weapons for your +defence. Cultivate this art in future, my poor boy; you may find it of +momentous service.” +</p> + +<p> +“The future!” repeated Silas. “What future is there left for +me except the gallows?” +</p> + +<p> +“Youth is but a cowardly season,” returned the Doctor; “and a +man’s own troubles look blacker than they are. I am old, and yet I never +despair.” +</p> + +<p> +“Can I tell such a story to the police?” demanded Silas. +</p> + +<p> +“Assuredly not,” replied the Doctor. “From what I see already +of the machination in which you have been involved, your case is desperate upon +that side; and for the narrow eye of the authorities you are infallibly the +guilty person. And remember that we only know a portion of the plot; and the +same infamous contrivers have doubtless arranged many other circumstances which +would be elicited by a police inquiry, and help to fix the guilt more certainly +upon your innocence.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am then lost, indeed!” cried Silas. +</p> + +<p> +“I have not said so,” answered Dr. Noel “for I am a cautious +man.” +</p> + +<p> +“But look at this!” objected Silas, pointing to the body. +“Here is this object in my bed; not to be explained, not to be disposed +of, not to be regarded without horror.” +</p> + +<p> +“Horror?” replied the Doctor. “No. When this sort of clock +has run down, it is no more to me than an ingenious piece of mechanism, to be +investigated with the bistoury. When blood is once cold and stagnant, it is no +longer human blood; when flesh is once dead, it is no longer that flesh which +we desire in our lovers and respect in our friends. The grace, the attraction, +the terror, have all gone from it with the animating spirit. Accustom yourself +to look upon it with composure; for if my scheme is practicable you will have +to live some days in constant proximity to that which now so greatly horrifies +you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Your scheme?” cried Silas. “What is that? Tell me speedily, +Doctor; for I have scarcely courage enough to continue to exist.” +</p> + +<p> +Without replying, Doctor Noel turned towards the bed, and proceeded to examine +the corpse. +</p> + +<p> +“Quite dead,” he murmured. “Yes, as I had supposed, the +pockets empty. Yes, and the name cut off the shirt. Their work has been done +thoroughly and well. Fortunately, he is of small stature.” +</p> + +<p> +Silas followed these words with an extreme anxiety. At last the Doctor, his +autopsy completed, took a chair and addressed the young American with a smile. +</p> + +<p> +“Since I came into your room,” said he, “although my ears and +my tongue have been so busy, I have not suffered my eyes to remain idle. I +noted a little while ago that you have there, in the corner, one of those +monstrous constructions which your fellow-countrymen carry with them into all +quarters of the globe—in a word, a Saratoga trunk. Until this moment I +have never been able to conceive the utility of these erections; but then I +began to have a glimmer. Whether it was for convenience in the slave trade, or +to obviate the results of too ready an employment of the bowie-knife, I cannot +bring myself to decide. But one thing I see plainly—the object of such a +box is to contain a human body. +</p> + +<p> +“Surely,” cried Silas, “surely this is not a time for +jesting.” +</p> + +<p> +“Although I may express myself with some degree of pleasantry,” +replied the Doctor, “the purport of my words is entirely serious. And the +first thing we have to do, my young friend, is to empty your coffer of all that +it contains.” +</p> + +<p> +Silas, obeying the authority of Doctor Noel, put himself at his disposition. +The Saratoga trunk was soon gutted of its contents, which made a considerable +litter on the floor; and then—Silas taking the heels and the Doctor +supporting the shoulders—the body of the murdered man was carried from +the bed, and, after some difficulty, doubled up and inserted whole into the +empty box. With an effort on the part of both, the lid was forced down upon +this unusual baggage, and the trunk was locked and corded by the Doctor’s +own hand, while Silas disposed of what had been taken out between the closet +and a chest of drawers. +</p> + +<p> +“Now,” said the Doctor, “the first step has been taken on the +way to your deliverance. To-morrow, or rather to-day, it must be your task to +allay the suspicions of your porter, paying him all that you owe; while you may +trust me to make the arrangements necessary to a safe conclusion. Meantime, +follow me to my room, where I shall give you a safe and powerful opiate; for, +whatever you do, you must have rest.” +</p> + +<p> +The next day was the longest in Silas’s memory; it seemed as if it would +never be done. He denied himself to his friends, and sat in a corner with his +eyes fixed upon the Saratoga trunk in dismal contemplation. His own former +indiscretions were now returned upon him in kind; for the observatory had been +once more opened, and he was conscious of an almost continual study from Madame +Zéphyrine’s apartment. So distressing did this become, that he was at +last obliged to block up the spy-hole from his own side; and when he was thus +secured from observation he spent a considerable portion of his time in +contrite tears and prayer. +</p> + +<p> +Late in the evening Dr. Noel entered the room carrying in his hand a pair of +sealed envelopes without address, one somewhat bulky, and the other so slim as +to seem without enclosure. +</p> + +<p> +“Silas,” he said, seating himself at the table, “the time has +now come for me to explain my plan for your salvation. To-morrow morning, at an +early hour, Prince Florizel of Bohemia returns to London, after having diverted +himself for a few days with the Parisian Carnival. It was my fortune, a good +while ago, to do Colonel Geraldine, his Master of the Horse, one of those +services, so common in my profession, which are never forgotten upon either +side. I have no need to explain to you the nature of the obligation under which +he was laid; suffice it to say that I knew him ready to serve me in any +practicable manner. Now, it was necessary for you to gain London with your +trunk unopened. To this the Custom House seemed to oppose a fatal difficulty; +but I bethought me that the baggage of so considerable a person as the Prince, +is, as a matter of courtesy, passed without examination by the officers of +Custom. I applied to Colonel Geraldine, and succeeded in obtaining a favourable +answer. To-morrow, if you go before six to the hotel where the Prince lodges, +your baggage will be passed over as a part of his, and you yourself will make +the journey as a member of his suite.” +</p> + +<p> +“It seems to me, as you speak, that I have already seen both the Prince +and Colonel Geraldine; I even overheard some of their conversation the other +evening at the Bullier Ball.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is probable enough; for the Prince loves to mix with all +societies,” replied the Doctor. “Once arrived in London,” he +pursued, “your task is nearly ended. In this more bulky envelope I have +given you a letter which I dare not address; but in the other you will find the +designation of the house to which you must carry it along with your box, which +will there be taken from you and not trouble you any more.” +</p> + +<p> +“Alas!” said Silas, “I have every wish to believe you; but +how is it possible? You open up to me a bright prospect, but, I ask you, is my +mind capable of receiving so unlikely a solution? Be more generous, and let me +further understand your meaning.” +</p> + +<p> +The Doctor seemed painfully impressed. +</p> + +<p> +“Boy,” he answered, “you do not know how hard a thing you ask +of me. But be it so. I am now inured to humiliation; and it would be strange if +I refused you this, after having granted you so much. Know, then, that although +I now make so quiet an appearance—frugal, solitary, addicted to +study—when I was younger, my name was once a rallying-cry among the most +astute and dangerous spirits of London; and while I was outwardly an object for +respect and consideration, my true power resided in the most secret, terrible, +and criminal relations. It is to one of the persons who then obeyed me that I +now address myself to deliver you from your burden. They were men of many +different nations and dexterities, all bound together by a formidable oath, and +working to the same purposes; the trade of the association was in murder; and I +who speak to you, innocent as I appear, was the chieftain of this redoubtable +crew.” +</p> + +<p> +“What?” cried Silas. “A murderer? And one with whom murder +was a trade? Can I take your hand? Ought I so much as to accept your services? +Dark and criminal old man, would you make an accomplice of my youth and my +distress?” +</p> + +<p> +The Doctor bitterly laughed. +</p> + +<p> +“You are difficult to please, Mr. Scuddamore,” said he; “but +I now offer you your choice of company between the murdered man and the +murderer. If your conscience is too nice to accept my aid, say so, and I will +immediately leave you. Thenceforward you can deal with your trunk and its +belongings as best suits your upright conscience.” +</p> + +<p> +“I own myself wrong,” replied Silas. “I should have +remembered how generously you offered to shield me, even before I had convinced +you of my innocence, and I continue to listen to your counsels with +gratitude.” +</p> + +<p> +“That is well,” returned the Doctor; “and I perceive you are +beginning to learn some of the lessons of experience.” +</p> + +<p> +“At the same time,” resumed the New-Englander, “as you +confess yourself accustomed to this tragical business, and the people to whom +you recommend me are your own former associates and friends, could you not +yourself undertake the transport of the box, and rid me at once of its detested +presence?” +</p> + +<p> +“Upon my word,” replied the Doctor, “I admire you cordially. +If you do not think I have already meddled sufficiently in your concerns, +believe me, from my heart I think the contrary. Take or leave my services as I +offer them; and trouble me with no more words of gratitude, for I value your +consideration even more lightly than I do your intellect. A time will come, if +you should be spared to see a number of years in health of mind, when you will +think differently of all this, and blush for your to-night’s +behaviour.” +</p> + +<p> +So saying, the Doctor arose from his chair, repeated his directions briefly and +clearly, and departed from the room without permitting Silas any time to +answer. +</p> + +<p> +The next morning Silas presented himself at the hotel, where he was politely +received by Colonel Geraldine, and relieved, from that moment, of all immediate +alarm about his trunk and its grisly contents. The journey passed over without +much incident, although the young man was horrified to overhear the sailors and +railway porters complaining among themselves about the unusual weight of the +Prince’s baggage. Silas travelled in a carriage with the valets, for +Prince Florizel chose to be alone with his Master of the Horse. On board the +steamer, however, Silas attracted his Highness’s attention by the +melancholy of his air and attitude as he stood gazing at the pile of baggage; +for he was still full of disquietude about the future. +</p> + +<p> +“There is a young man,” observed the Prince, “who must have +some cause for sorrow.” +</p> + +<p> +“That,” replied Geraldine, “is the American for whom I +obtained permission to travel with your suite.” +</p> + +<p> +“You remind me that I have been remiss in courtesy,” said Prince +Florizel, and advancing to Silas, he addressed him with the most exquisite +condescension in these words:—“I was charmed, young sir, to be able +to gratify the desire you made known to me through Colonel Geraldine. Remember, +if you please, that I shall be glad at any future time to lay you under a more +serious obligation.” +</p> + +<p> +And he then put some questions as to the political condition of America, which +Silas answered with sense and propriety. +</p> + +<p> +“You are still a young man,” said the Prince; “but I observe +you to be very serious for your years. Perhaps you allow your attention to be +too much occupied with grave studies. But, perhaps, on the other hand, I am +myself indiscreet and touch upon a painful subject.” +</p> + +<p> +“I have certainly cause to be the most miserable of men,” said +Silas; “never has a more innocent person been more dismally +abused.” +</p> + +<p> +“I will not ask you for your confidence,” returned Prince Florizel. +“But do not forget that Colonel Geraldine’s recommendation is an +unfailing passport; and that I am not only willing, but possibly more able than +many others, to do you a service.” +</p> + +<p> +Silas was delighted with the amiability of this great personage; but his mind +soon returned upon its gloomy preoccupations; for not even the favour of a +Prince to a Republican can discharge a brooding spirit of its cares. +</p> + +<p> +The train arrived at Charing Cross, where the officers of the Revenue respected +the baggage of Prince Florizel in the usual manner. The most elegant equipages +were in waiting; and Silas was driven, along with the rest, to the +Prince’s residence. There Colonel Geraldine sought him out, and expressed +himself pleased to have been of any service to a friend of the +physician’s, for whom he professed a great consideration. +</p> + +<p> +“I hope,” he added, “that you will find none of your +porcelain injured. Special orders were given along the line to deal tenderly +with the Prince’s effects.” +</p> + +<p> +And then, directing the servants to place one of the carriages at the young +gentleman’s disposal, and at once to charge the Saratoga trunk upon the +dickey, the Colonel shook hands and excused himself on account of his +occupations in the princely household. +</p> + +<p> +Silas now broke the seal of the envelope containing the address, and directed +the stately footman to drive him to Box Court, opening off the Strand. It +seemed as if the place were not at all unknown to the man, for he looked +startled and begged a repetition of the order. It was with a heart full of +alarms, that Silas mounted into the luxurious vehicle, and was driven to his +destination. The entrance to Box Court was too narrow for the passage of a +coach; it was a mere footway between railings, with a post at either end. On +one of these posts was seated a man, who at once jumped down and exchanged a +friendly sign with the driver, while the footman opened the door and inquired +of Silas whether he should take down the Saratoga trunk, and to what number it +should be carried. +</p> + +<p> +“If you please,” said Silas. “To number three.” +</p> + +<p> +The footman and the man who had been sitting on the post, even with the aid of +Silas himself, had hard work to carry in the trunk; and before it was deposited +at the door of the house in question, the young American was horrified to find +a score of loiterers looking on. But he knocked with as good a countenance as +he could muster up, and presented the other envelope to him who opened. +</p> + +<p> +“He is not at home,” said he, “but if you will leave your +letter and return to-morrow early, I shall be able to inform you whether and +when he can receive your visit. Would you like to leave your box?” he +added. +</p> + +<p> +“Dearly,” cried Silas; and the next moment he repented his +precipitation, and declared, with equal emphasis, that he would rather carry +the box along with him to the hotel. +</p> + +<p> +The crowd jeered at his indecision and followed him to the carriage with +insulting remarks; and Silas, covered with shame and terror, implored the +servants to conduct him to some quiet and comfortable house of entertainment in +the immediate neighbourhood. +</p> + +<p> +The Prince’s equipage deposited Silas at the Craven Hotel in Craven +Street, and immediately drove away, leaving him alone with the servants of the +inn. The only vacant room, it appeared, was a little den up four pairs of +stairs, and looking towards the back. To this hermitage, with infinite trouble +and complaint, a pair of stout porters carried the Saratoga trunk. It is +needless to mention that Silas kept closely at their heels throughout the +ascent, and had his heart in his mouth at every corner. A single false step, he +reflected, and the box might go over the banisters and land its fatal contents, +plainly discovered, on the pavement of the hall. +</p> + +<p> +Arrived in the room, he sat down on the edge of his bed to recover from the +agony that he had just endured; but he had hardly taken his position when he +was recalled to a sense of his peril by the action of the boots, who had knelt +beside the trunk, and was proceeding officiously to undo its elaborate +fastenings. +</p> + +<p> +“Let it be!” cried Silas. “I shall want nothing from it while +I stay here.” +</p> + +<p> +“You might have let it lie in the hall, then,” growled the man; +“a thing as big and heavy as a church. What you have inside I cannot +fancy. If it is all money, you are a richer man than me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Money?” repeated Silas, in a sudden perturbation. “What do +you mean by money? I have no money, and you are speaking like a fool.” +</p> + +<p> +“All right, captain,” retorted the boots with a wink. +“There’s nobody will touch your lordship’s money. I’m +as safe as the bank,” he added; “but as the box is heavy, I +shouldn’t mind drinking something to your lordship’s health.” +</p> + +<p> +Silas pressed two Napoleons upon his acceptance, apologising, at the same time, +for being obliged to trouble him with foreign money, and pleading his recent +arrival for excuse. And the man, grumbling with even greater fervour, and +looking contemptuously from the money in his hand to the Saratoga trunk and +back again from the one to the other, at last consented to withdraw. +</p> + +<p> +For nearly two days the dead body had been packed into Silas’s box; and +as soon as he was alone the unfortunate New-Englander nosed all the cracks and +openings with the most passionate attention. But the weather was cool, and the +trunk still managed to contain his shocking secret. +</p> + +<p> +He took a chair beside it, and buried his face in his hands, and his mind in +the most profound reflection. If he were not speedily relieved, no question but +he must be speedily discovered. Alone in a strange city, without friends or +accomplices, if the Doctor’s introduction failed him, he was indubitably +a lost New-Englander. He reflected pathetically over his ambitious designs for +the future; he should not now become the hero and spokesman of his native place +of Bangor, Maine; he should not, as he had fondly anticipated, move on from +office to office, from honour to honour; he might as well divest himself at +once of all hope of being acclaimed President of the United States, and leaving +behind him a statue, in the worst possible style of art, to adorn the Capitol +at Washington. Here he was, chained to a dead Englishman doubled up inside a +Saratoga trunk; whom he must get rid of, or perish from the rolls of national +glory! +</p> + +<p> +I should be afraid to chronicle the language employed by this young man to the +Doctor, to the murdered man, to Madame Zéphyrine, to the boots of the hotel, to +the Prince’s servants, and, in a word, to all who had been ever so +remotely connected with his horrible misfortune. +</p> + +<p> +He slunk down to dinner about seven at night; but the yellow coffee-room +appalled him, the eyes of the other diners seemed to rest on his with +suspicion, and his mind remained upstairs with the Saratoga trunk. When the +waiter came to offer him cheese, his nerves were already so much on edge that +he leaped half-way out of his chair and upset the remainder of a pint of ale +upon the table-cloth. +</p> + +<p> +The fellow offered to show him to the smoking-room when he had done; and +although he would have much preferred to return at once to his perilous +treasure, he had not the courage to refuse, and was shown downstairs to the +black, gas-lit cellar, which formed, and possibly still forms, the divan of the +Craven Hotel. +</p> + +<p> +Two very sad betting men were playing billiards, attended by a moist, +consumptive marker; and for the moment Silas imagined that these were the only +occupants of the apartment. But at the next glance his eye fell upon a person +smoking in the farthest corner, with lowered eyes and a most respectable and +modest aspect. He knew at once that he had seen the face before; and, in spite +of the entire change of clothes, recognised the man whom he had found seated on +a post at the entrance to Box Court, and who had helped him to carry the trunk +to and from the carriage. The New-Englander simply turned and ran, nor did he +pause until he had locked and bolted himself into his bedroom. +</p> + +<p> +There, all night long, a prey to the most terrible imaginations, he watched +beside the fatal boxful of dead flesh. The suggestion of the boots that his +trunk was full of gold inspired him with all manner of new terrors, if he so +much as dared to close an eye; and the presence in the smoking-room, and under +an obvious disguise, of the loiterer from Box Court convinced him that he was +once more the centre of obscure machinations. +</p> + +<p> +Midnight had sounded some time, when, impelled by uneasy suspicions, Silas +opened his bedroom door and peered into the passage. It was dimly illuminated +by a single jet of gas; and some distance off he perceived a man sleeping on +the floor in the costume of an hotel under-servant. Silas drew near the man on +tiptoe. He lay partly on his back, partly on his side, and his right forearm +concealed his face from recognition. Suddenly, while the American was still +bending over him, the sleeper removed his arm and opened his eyes, and Silas +found himself once more face to face with the loiterer of Box Court. +</p> + +<p> +“Good-night, sir,” said the man, pleasantly. +</p> + +<p> +But Silas was too profoundly moved to find an answer, and regained his room in +silence. +</p> + +<p> +Towards morning, worn out by apprehension, he fell asleep on his chair, with +his head forward on the trunk. In spite of so constrained an attitude and such +a grisly pillow, his slumber was sound and prolonged, and he was only awakened +at a late hour and by a sharp tapping at the door. +</p> + +<p> +He hurried to open, and found the boots without. +</p> + +<p> +“You are the gentleman who called yesterday at Box Court?” he +asked. +</p> + +<p> +Silas, with a quaver, admitted that he had done so. +</p> + +<p> +“Then this note is for you,” added the servant, proffering a sealed +envelope. +</p> + +<p> +Silas tore it open, and found inside the words: “Twelve +o’clock.” +</p> + +<p> +He was punctual to the hour; the trunk was carried before him by several stout +servants; and he was himself ushered into a room, where a man sat warming +himself before the fire with his back towards the door. The sound of so many +persons entering and leaving, and the scraping of the trunk as it was deposited +upon the bare boards, were alike unable to attract the notice of the occupant; +and Silas stood waiting, in an agony of fear, until he should deign to +recognise his presence. +</p> + +<p> +Perhaps five minutes had elapsed before the man turned leisurely about, and +disclosed the features of Prince Florizel of Bohemia. +</p> + +<p> +“So, sir,” he said, with great severity, “this is the manner +in which you abuse my politeness. You join yourselves to persons of condition, +I perceive, for no other purpose than to escape the consequences of your +crimes; and I can readily understand your embarrassment when I addressed myself +to you yesterday.” +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed,” cried Silas, “I am innocent of everything except +misfortune.” +</p> + +<p> +And in a hurried voice, and with the greatest ingenuousness, he recounted to +the Prince the whole history of his calamity. +</p> + +<p> +“I see I have been mistaken,” said his Highness, when he had heard +him to an end. “You are no other than a victim, and since I am not to +punish you may be sure I shall do my utmost to help. And now,” he +continued, “to business. Open your box at once, and let me see what it +contains.” +</p> + +<p> +Silas changed colour. +</p> + +<p> +“I almost fear to look upon it,” he exclaimed. +</p> + +<p> +“Nay,” replied the Prince, “have you not looked at it +already? This is a form of sentimentality to be resisted. The sight of a sick +man, whom we can still help, should appeal more directly to the feelings than +that of a dead man who is equally beyond help or harm, love or hatred. Nerve +yourself, Mr. Scuddamore,” and then, seeing that Silas still hesitated, +“I do not desire to give another name to my request,” he added. +</p> + +<p> +The young American awoke as if out of a dream, and with a shiver of repugnance +addressed himself to loose the straps and open the lock of the Saratoga trunk. +The Prince stood by, watching with a composed countenance and his hands behind +his back. The body was quite stiff, and it cost Silas a great effort, both +moral and physical, to dislodge it from its position, and discover the face. +</p> + +<p> +Prince Florizel started back with an exclamation of painful surprise. +</p> + +<p> +“Alas!” he cried, “you little know, Mr. Scuddamore, what a +cruel gift you have brought me. This is a young man of my own suite, the +brother of my trusted friend; and it was upon matters of my own service that he +has thus perished at the hands of violent and treacherous men. Poor +Geraldine,” he went on, as if to himself, “in what words am I to +tell you of your brother’s fate? How can I excuse myself in your eyes, or +in the eyes of God, for the presumptuous schemes that led him to this bloody +and unnatural death? Ah, Florizel! Florizel! when will you learn the discretion +that suits mortal life, and be no longer dazzled with the image of power at +your disposal? Power!” he cried; “who is more powerless? I look +upon this young man whom I have sacrificed, Mr. Scuddamore, and feel how small +a thing it is to be a Prince.” +</p> + +<p> +Silas was moved at the sight of his emotion. He tried to murmur some +consolatory words, and burst into tears. +</p> + +<p> +The Prince, touched by his obvious intention, came up to him and took him by +the hand. +</p> + +<p> +“Command yourself,” said he. “We have both much to learn, and +we shall both be better men for to-day’s meeting.” +</p> + +<p> +Silas thanked him in silence with an affectionate look. +</p> + +<p> +“Write me the address of Doctor Noel on this piece of paper,” +continued the Prince, leading him towards the table; “and let me +recommend you, when you are again in Paris, to avoid the society of that +dangerous man. He has acted in this matter on a generous inspiration; that I +must believe; had he been privy to young Geraldine’s death he would never +have despatched the body to the care of the actual criminal.” +</p> + +<p> +“The actual criminal!” repeated Silas in astonishment. +</p> + +<p> +“Even so,” returned the Prince. “This letter, which the +disposition of Almighty Providence has so strangely delivered into my hands, +was addressed to no less a person than the criminal himself, the infamous +President of the Suicide Club. Seek to pry no further in these perilous +affairs, but content yourself with your own miraculous escape, and leave this +house at once. I have pressing affairs, and must arrange at once about this +poor clay, which was so lately a gallant and handsome youth.” +</p> + +<p> +Silas took a grateful and submissive leave of Prince Florizel, but he lingered +in Box Court until he saw him depart in a splendid carriage on a visit to +Colonel Henderson of the police. Republican as he was, the young American took +off his hat with almost a sentiment of devotion to the retreating carriage. And +the same night he started by rail on his return to Paris. +</p> + +<div class="gapspace"> </div> + +<p> +<i>Here</i> (observes my Arabian author) <i>is the end of</i> <span +class="smcap">The History of the Physician and the Saratoga Trunk</span>. +<i>Omitting some reflections on the power of Providence</i>, <i>highly +pertinent in the original</i>, <i>but little suited to our occiddental +taste</i>, <i>I shall only add that Mr. Scuddamore has already begun to mount +the ladder of political fame</i>, <i>and by last advices was the Sheriff of his +native town</i>. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap04"></a>THE ADVENTURE OF THE HANSOM CABS</h3> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">Lieutenant Brackenbury Rich</span> had greatly +distinguished himself in one of the lesser Indian hill wars. He it was who took +the chieftain prisoner with his own hand; his gallantry was universally +applauded; and when he came home, prostrated by an ugly sabre cut and a +protracted jungle fever, society was prepared to welcome the Lieutenant as a +celebrity of minor lustre. But his was a character remarkable for unaffected +modesty; adventure was dear to his heart, but he cared little for adulation; +and he waited at foreign watering-places and in Algiers until the fame of his +exploits had run through its nine days’ vitality and begun to be +forgotten. He arrived in London at last, in the early season, with as little +observation as he could desire; and as he was an orphan and had none but +distant relatives who lived in the provinces, it was almost as a foreigner that +he installed himself in the capital of the country for which he had shed his +blood. +</p> + +<p> +On the day following his arrival he dined alone at a military club. He shook +hands with a few old comrades, and received their warm congratulations; but as +one and all had some engagement for the evening, he found himself left entirely +to his own resources. He was in dress, for he had entertained the notion of +visiting a theatre. But the great city was new to him; he had gone from a +provincial school to a military college, and thence direct to the Eastern +Empire; and he promised himself a variety of delights in this world for +exploration. Swinging his cane, he took his way westward. It was a mild +evening, already dark, and now and then threatening rain. The succession of +faces in the lamplight stirred the Lieutenant’s imagination; and it +seemed to him as if he could walk for ever in that stimulating city atmosphere +and surrounded by the mystery of four million private lives. He glanced at the +houses, and marvelled what was passing behind those warmly-lighted windows; he +looked into face after face, and saw them each intent upon some unknown +interest, criminal or kindly. +</p> + +<p> +“They talk of war,” he thought, “but this is the great +battlefield of mankind.” +</p> + +<p> +And then he began to wonder that he should walk so long in this complicated +scene, and not chance upon so much as the shadow of an adventure for himself. +</p> + +<p> +“All in good time,” he reflected. “I am still a stranger, and +perhaps wear a strange air. But I must be drawn into the eddy before +long.” +</p> + +<p> +The night was already well advanced when a plump of cold rain fell suddenly out +of the darkness. Brackenbury paused under some trees, and as he did so he +caught sight of a hansom cabman making him a sign that he was disengaged. The +circumstance fell in so happily to the occasion that he at once raised his cane +in answer, and had soon ensconced himself in the London gondola. +</p> + +<p> +“Where to, sir?” asked the driver. +</p> + +<p> +“Where you please,” said Brackenbury. +</p> + +<p> +And immediately, at a pace of surprising swiftness, the hansom drove off +through the rain into a maze of villas. One villa was so like another, each +with its front garden, and there was so little to distinguish the deserted +lamp-lit streets and crescents through which the flying hansom took its way, +that Brackenbury soon lost all idea of direction. +</p> + +<p> +He would have been tempted to believe that the cabman was amusing himself by +driving him round and round and in and out about a small quarter, but there was +something business-like in the speed which convinced him of the contrary. The +man had an object in view, he was hastening towards a definite end; and +Brackenbury was at once astonished at the fellow’s skill in picking a way +through such a labyrinth, and a little concerned to imagine what was the +occasion of his hurry. He had heard tales of strangers falling ill in London. +Did the driver belong to some bloody and treacherous association? and was he +himself being whirled to a murderous death? +</p> + +<p> +The thought had scarcely presented itself, when the cab swung sharply round a +corner and pulled up before the garden gate of a villa in a long and wide road. +The house was brilliantly lighted up. Another hansom had just driven away, and +Brackenbury could see a gentleman being admitted at the front door and received +by several liveried servants. He was surprised that the cabman should have +stopped so immediately in front of a house where a reception was being held; +but he did not doubt it was the result of accident, and sat placidly smoking +where he was, until he heard the trap thrown open over his head. +</p> + +<p> +“Here we are, sir,” said the driver. +</p> + +<p> +“Here!” repeated Brackenbury. “Where?” +</p> + +<p> +“You told me to take you where I pleased, sir,” returned the man +with a chuckle, “and here we are.” +</p> + +<p> +It struck Brackenbury that the voice was wonderfully smooth and courteous for a +man in so inferior a position; he remembered the speed at which he had been +driven; and now it occurred to him that the hansom was more luxuriously +appointed than the common run of public conveyances. +</p> + +<p> +“I must ask you to explain,” said he. “Do you mean to turn me +out into the rain? My good man, I suspect the choice is mine.” +</p> + +<p> +“The choice is certainly yours,” replied the driver; “but +when I tell you all, I believe I know how a gentleman of your figure will +decide. There is a gentlemen’s party in this house. I do not know whether +the master be a stranger to London and without acquaintances of his own; or +whether he is a man of odd notions. But certainly I was hired to kidnap single +gentlemen in evening dress, as many as I pleased, but military officers by +preference. You have simply to go in and say that Mr. Morris invited +you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Are you Mr. Morris?” inquired the Lieutenant. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, no,” replied the cabman. “Mr. Morris is the person of +the house.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is not a common way of collecting guests,” said Brackenbury: +“but an eccentric man might very well indulge the whim without any +intention to offend. And suppose that I refuse Mr. Morris’s +invitation,” he went on, “what then?” +</p> + +<p> +“My orders are to drive you back where I took you from,” replied +the man, “and set out to look for others up to midnight. Those who have +no fancy for such an adventure, Mr. Morris said, were not the guests for +him.” +</p> + +<p> +These words decided the Lieutenant on the spot. +</p> + +<p> +“After all,” he reflected, as he descended from the hansom, +“I have not had long to wait for my adventure.” +</p> + +<p> +He had hardly found footing on the side-walk, and was still feeling in his +pocket for the fare, when the cab swung about and drove off by the way it came +at the former break-neck velocity. Brackenbury shouted after the man, who paid +no heed, and continued to drive away; but the sound of his voice was overheard +in the house, the door was again thrown open, emitting a flood of light upon +the garden, and a servant ran down to meet him holding an umbrella. +</p> + +<p> +“The cabman has been paid,” observed the servant in a very civil +tone; and he proceeded to escort Brackenbury along the path and up the steps. +In the hall several other attendants relieved him of his hat, cane, and +paletot, gave him a ticket with a number in return, and politely hurried him up +a stair adorned with tropical flowers, to the door of an apartment on the first +storey. Here a grave butler inquired his name, and announcing “Lieutenant +Brackenbury Rich,” ushered him into the drawing-room of the house. +</p> + +<p> +A young man, slender and singularly handsome, came forward and greeted him with +an air at once courtly and affectionate. Hundreds of candles, of the finest +wax, lit up a room that was perfumed, like the staircase, with a profusion of +rare and beautiful flowering shrubs. A side-table was loaded with tempting +viands. Several servants went to and fro with fruits and goblets of champagne. +The company was perhaps sixteen in number, all men, few beyond the prime of +life, and with hardly an exception, of a dashing and capable exterior. They +were divided into two groups, one about a roulette board, and the other +surrounding a table at which one of their number held a bank of baccarat. +</p> + +<p> +“I see,” thought Brackenbury, “I am in a private gambling +saloon, and the cabman was a tout.” +</p> + +<p> +His eye had embraced the details, and his mind formed the conclusion, while his +host was still holding him by the hand; and to him his looks returned from this +rapid survey. At a second view Mr. Morris surprised him still more than on the +first. The easy elegance of his manners, the distinction, amiability, and +courage that appeared upon his features, fitted very ill with the +Lieutenant’s preconceptions on the subject of the proprietor of a hell; +and the tone of his conversation seemed to mark him out for a man of position +and merit. Brackenbury found he had an instinctive liking for his entertainer; +and though he chid himself for the weakness, he was unable to resist a sort of +friendly attraction for Mr. Morris’s person and character. +</p> + +<p> +“I have heard of you, Lieutenant Rich,” said Mr. Morris, lowering +his tone; “and believe me I am gratified to make your acquaintance. Your +looks accord with the reputation that has preceded you from India. And if you +will forget for a while the irregularity of your presentation in my house, I +shall feel it not only an honour, but a genuine pleasure besides. A man who +makes a mouthful of barbarian cavaliers,” he added with a laugh, +“should not be appalled by a breach of etiquette, however serious.” +</p> + +<p> +And he led him towards the sideboard and pressed him to partake of some +refreshment. +</p> + +<p> +“Upon my word,” the Lieutenant reflected, “this is one of the +pleasantest fellows and, I do not doubt, one of the most agreeable societies in +London.” +</p> + +<p> +He partook of some champagne, which he found excellent; and observing that many +of the company were already smoking, he lit one of his own Manillas, and +strolled up to the roulette board, where he sometimes made a stake and +sometimes looked on smilingly on the fortune of others. It was while he was +thus idling that he became aware of a sharp scrutiny to which the whole of the +guests were subjected. Mr. Morris went here and there, ostensibly busied on +hospitable concerns; but he had ever a shrewd glance at disposal; not a man of +the party escaped his sudden, searching looks; he took stock of the bearing of +heavy losers, he valued the amount of the stakes, he paused behind couples who +were deep in conversation; and, in a word, there was hardly a characteristic of +any one present but he seemed to catch and make a note of it. Brackenbury began +to wonder if this were indeed a gambling hell: it had so much the air of a +private inquisition. He followed Mr. Morris in all his movements; and although +the man had a ready smile, he seemed to perceive, as it were under a mask, a +haggard, careworn, and preoccupied spirit. The fellows around him laughed and +made their game; but Brackenbury had lost interest in the guests. +</p> + +<p> +“This Morris,” thought he, “is no idler in the room. Some +deep purpose inspires him; let it be mine to fathom it.” +</p> + +<p> +Now and then Mr. Morris would call one of his visitors aside; and after a brief +colloquy in an ante-room, he would return alone, and the visitors in question +reappeared no more. After a certain number of repetitions, this performance +excited Brackenbury’s curiosity to a high degree. He determined to be at +the bottom of this minor mystery at once; and strolling into the ante-room, +found a deep window recess concealed by curtains of the fashionable green. Here +he hurriedly ensconced himself; nor had he to wait long before the sound of +steps and voices drew near him from the principal apartment. Peering through +the division, he saw Mr. Morris escorting a fat and ruddy personage, with +somewhat the look of a commercial traveller, whom Brackenbury had already +remarked for his coarse laugh and under-bred behaviour at the table. The pair +halted immediately before the window, so that Brackenbury lost not a word of +the following discourse:— +</p> + +<p> +“I beg you a thousand pardons!” began Mr. Morris, with the most +conciliatory manner; “and, if I appear rude, I am sure you will readily +forgive me. In a place so great as London accidents must continually happen; +and the best that we can hope is to remedy them with as small delay as +possible. I will not deny that I fear you have made a mistake and honoured my +poor house by inadvertence; for, to speak openly, I cannot at all remember your +appearance. Let me put the question without unnecessary +circumlocution—between gentlemen of honour a word will +suffice—Under whose roof do you suppose yourself to be?” +</p> + +<p> +“That of Mr. Morris,” replied the other, with a prodigious display +of confusion, which had been visibly growing upon him throughout the last few +words. +</p> + +<p> +“Mr. John or Mr. James Morris?” inquired the host. +</p> + +<p> +“I really cannot tell you,” returned the unfortunate guest. +“I am not personally acquainted with the gentleman, any more than I am +with yourself.” +</p> + +<p> +“I see,” said Mr. Morris. “There is another person of the +same name farther down the street; and I have no doubt the policeman will be +able to supply you with his number. Believe me, I felicitate myself on the +misunderstanding which has procured me the pleasure of your company for so +long; and let me express a hope that we may meet again upon a more regular +footing. Meantime, I would not for the world detain you longer from your +friends. John,” he added, raising his voice, “will you see that +this gentleman finds his great-coat?” +</p> + +<p> +And with the most agreeable air Mr. Morris escorted his visitor as far as the +ante-room door, where he left him under conduct of the butler. As he passed the +window, on his return to the drawing-room, Brackenbury could hear him utter a +profound sigh, as though his mind was loaded with a great anxiety, and his +nerves already fatigued with the task on which he was engaged. +</p> + +<p> +For perhaps an hour the hansoms kept arriving with such frequency, that Mr. +Morris had to receive a new guest for every old one that he sent away, and the +company preserved its number undiminished. But towards the end of that time the +arrivals grew few and far between, and at length ceased entirely, while the +process of elimination was continued with unimpaired activity. The drawing-room +began to look empty: the baccarat was discontinued for lack of a banker; more +than one person said good-night of his own accord, and was suffered to depart +without expostulation; and in the meanwhile Mr. Morris redoubled in agreeable +attentions to those who stayed behind. He went from group to group and from +person to person with looks of the readiest sympathy and the most pertinent and +pleasing talk; he was not so much like a host as like a hostess, and there was +a feminine coquetry and condescension in his manner which charmed the hearts of +all. +</p> + +<p> +As the guests grew thinner, Lieutenant Rich strolled for a moment out of the +drawing-room into the hall in quest of fresher air. But he had no sooner passed +the threshold of the ante-chamber than he was brought to a dead halt by a +discovery of the most surprising nature. The flowering shrubs had disappeared +from the staircase; three large furniture waggons stood before the garden gate; +the servants were busy dismantling the house upon all sides; and some of them +had already donned their great-coats and were preparing to depart. It was like +the end of a country ball, where everything has been supplied by contract. +Brackenbury had indeed some matter for reflection. First, the guests, who were +no real guests after all, had been dismissed; and now the servants, who could +hardly be genuine servants, were actively dispersing. +</p> + +<p> +‘“Was the whole establishment a sham?” he asked himself. +“The mushroom of a single night which should disappear before +morning?” +</p> + +<p> +Watching a favourable opportunity, Brackenbury dashed upstairs to the highest +regions of the house. It was as he had expected. He ran from room to room, and +saw not a stick of furniture nor so much as a picture on the walls. Although +the house had been painted and papered, it was not only uninhabited at present, +but plainly had never been inhabited at all. The young officer remembered with +astonishment its specious, settled, and hospitable air on his arrival. It was +only at a prodigious cost that the imposture could have been carried out upon +so great a scale. +</p> + +<p> +Who, then, was Mr. Morris? What was his intention in thus playing the +householder for a single night in the remote west of London? And why did he +collect his visitors at hazard from the streets? +</p> + +<p> +Brackenbury remembered that he had already delayed too long, and hastened to +join the company. Many had left during his absence; and counting the Lieutenant +and his host, there were not more than five persons in the +drawing-room—recently so thronged. Mr. Morris greeted him, as he +re-entered the apartment, with a smile, and immediately rose to his feet. +</p> + +<p> +“It is now time, gentlemen,” said he, “to explain my purpose +in decoying you from your amusements. I trust you did not find the evening hang +very dully on your hands; but my object, I will confess it, was not to +entertain your leisure, but to help myself in an unfortunate necessity. You are +all gentlemen,” he continued, “your appearance does you that much +justice, and I ask for no better security. Hence, I speak it without +concealment, I ask you to render me a dangerous and delicate service; dangerous +because you may run the hazard of your lives, and delicate because I must ask +an absolute discretion upon all that you shall see or hear. From an utter +stranger the request is almost comically extravagant; I am well aware of this; +and I would add at once, if there be any one present who has heard enough, if +there be one among the party who recoils from a dangerous confidence and a +piece of Quixotic devotion to he knows not whom—here is my hand ready, +and I shall wish him good-night and God-speed with all the sincerity in the +world.” +</p> + +<p> +A very tall, black man, with a heavy stoop, immediately responded to this +appeal. +</p> + +<p> +“I commend your frankness, Sir,” said he; “and, for my part, +I go. I make no reflections; but I cannot deny that you fill me with suspicious +thoughts. I go myself, as I say; and perhaps you will think I have no right to +add words to my example.” +</p> + +<p> +“On the contrary,” replied Mr. Morris, “I am obliged to you +for all you say. It would be impossible to exaggerate the gravity of my +proposal.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, gentlemen, what do you say?” said the tall man, addressing +the others. “We have had our evening’s frolic; shall we all go +homeward peaceably in a body? You will think well of my suggestion in the +morning, when you see the sun again in innocence and safety.” +</p> + +<p> +The speaker pronounced the last words with an intonation which added to their +force; and his face wore a singular expression, full of gravity and +significance. Another of the company rose hastily, and, with some appearance of +alarm, prepared to take his leave. There were only two who held their ground, +Brackenbury and an old red-nosed cavalry Major; but these two preserved a +nonchalant demeanour, and, beyond a look of intelligence which they rapidly +exchanged, appeared entirely foreign to the discussion that had just been +terminated. +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Morris conducted the deserters as far as the door, which he closed upon +their heels; then he turned round, disclosing a countenance of mingled relief +and animation, and addressed the two officers as follows. +</p> + +<p> +“I have chosen my men like Joshua in the Bible,” said Mr. Morris, +“and I now believe I have the pick of London. Your appearance pleased my +hansom cabmen; then it delighted me; I have watched your behaviour in a strange +company, and under the most unusual circumstances: I have studied how you +played and how you bore your losses; lastly, I have put you to the test of a +staggering announcement, and you received it like an invitation to dinner. It +is not for nothing,” he cried, “that I have been for years the +companion and the pupil of the bravest and wisest potentate in Europe.” +</p> + +<p> +“At the affair of Bunderchang,” observed the Major, “I asked +for twelve volunteers, and every trooper in the ranks replied to my appeal. But +a gaming party is not the same thing as a regiment under fire. You may be +pleased, I suppose, to have found two, and two who will not fail you at a push. +As for the pair who ran away, I count them among the most pitiful hounds I ever +met with. Lieutenant Rich,” he added, addressing Brackenbury, “I +have heard much of you of late; and I cannot doubt but you have also heard of +me. I am Major O’Rooke.” +</p> + +<p> +And the veteran tendered his hand, which was red and tremulous, to the young +Lieutenant. +</p> + +<p> +“Who has not?” answered Brackenbury. +</p> + +<p> +“When this little matter is settled,” said Mr. Morris, “you +will think I have sufficiently rewarded you; for I could offer neither a more +valuable service than to make him acquainted with the other.” +</p> + +<p> +“And now,” said Major O’Rooke, “is it a duel?” +</p> + +<p> +“A duel after a fashion,” replied Mr. Morris, “a duel with +unknown and dangerous enemies, and, as I gravely fear, a duel to the death. I +must ask you,” he continued, “to call me Morris no longer; call me, +if you please, Hammersmith; my real name, as well as that of another person to +whom I hope to present you before long, you will gratify me by not asking and +not seeking to discover for yourselves. Three days ago the person of whom I +speak disappeared suddenly from home; and, until this morning, I received no +hint of his situation. You will fancy my alarm when I tell you that he is +engaged upon a work of private justice. Bound by an unhappy oath, too lightly +sworn, he finds it necessary, without the help of law, to rid the earth of an +insidious and bloody villain. Already two of our friends, and one of them my +own born brother, have perished in the enterprise. He himself, or I am much +deceived, is taken in the same fatal toils. But at least he still lives and +still hopes, as this billet sufficiently proves.” +</p> + +<p> +And the speaker, no other than Colonel Geraldine, proffered a letter, thus +conceived:— +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +“<span class="smcap">Major Hammersmith</span>,—On Wednesday, at 3 +<span class="GutSmall">A.M.</span>, you will be admitted by the small door to +the gardens of Rochester House, Regent’s Park, by a man who is entirely +in my interest. I must request you not to fail me by a second. Pray bring my +case of swords, and, if you can find them, one or two gentlemen of conduct and +discretion to whom my person is unknown. My name must not be used in this +affair. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +T. <span class="smcap">Godall</span>.” +</p> + +<p> +“From his wisdom alone, if he had no other title,” pursued Colonel +Geraldine, when the others had each satisfied his curiosity, “my friend +is a man whose directions should implicitly be followed. I need not tell you, +therefore, that I have not so much as visited the neighbourhood of Rochester +House; and that I am still as wholly in the dark as either of yourselves as to +the nature of my friend’s dilemma. I betook myself, as soon as I had +received this order, to a furnishing contractor, and, in a few hours, the house +in which we now are had assumed its late air of festival. My scheme was at +least original; and I am far from regretting an action which has procured me +the services of Major O’Rooke and Lieutenant Brackenbury Rich. But the +servants in the street will have a strange awakening. The house which this +evening was full of lights and visitors they will find uninhabited and for sale +to-morrow morning. Thus even the most serious concerns,” added the +Colonel, “have a merry side.” +</p> + +<p> +“And let us add a merry ending,” said Brackenbury. +</p> + +<p> +The Colonel consulted his watch. +</p> + +<p> +“It is now hard on two,” he said. “We have an hour before us, +and a swift cab is at the door. Tell me if I may count upon your help.” +</p> + +<p> +“During a long life,” replied Major O’Rooke, “I never +took back my hand from anything, nor so much as hedged a bet.” +</p> + +<p> +Brackenbury signified his readiness in the most becoming terms; and after they +had drunk a glass or two of wine, the Colonel gave each of them a loaded +revolver, and the three mounted into the cab and drove off for the address in +question. +</p> + +<p> +Rochester House was a magnificent residence on the banks of the canal. The +large extent of the garden isolated it in an unusual degree from the annoyances +of neighbourhood. It seemed the <i>parc aux cerfs</i> of some great nobleman or +millionaire. As far as could be seen from the street, there was not a glimmer +of light in any of the numerous windows of the mansion; and the place had a +look of neglect, as though the master had been long from home. +</p> + +<p> +The cab was discharged, and the three gentlemen were not long in discovering +the small door, which was a sort of postern in a lane between two garden walls. +It still wanted ten or fifteen minutes of the appointed time; the rain fell +heavily, and the adventurers sheltered themselves below some pendant ivy, and +spoke in low tones of the approaching trial. +</p> + +<p> +Suddenly Geraldine raised his finger to command silence, and all three bent +their hearing to the utmost. Through the continuous noise of the rain, the +steps and voices of two men became audible from the other side of the wall; +and, as they drew nearer, Brackenbury, whose sense of hearing was remarkably +acute, could even distinguish some fragments of their talk. +</p> + +<p> +“Is the grave dug?” asked one. +</p> + +<p> +“It is,” replied the other; “behind the laurel hedge. When +the job is done, we can cover it with a pile of stakes.” +</p> + +<p> +The first speaker laughed, and the sound of his merriment was shocking to the +listeners on the other side. +</p> + +<p> +“In an hour from now,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +And by the sound of the steps it was obvious that the pair had separated, and +were proceeding in contrary directions. +</p> + +<p> +Almost immediately after the postern door was cautiously opened, a white face +was protruded into the lane, and a hand was seen beckoning to the watchers. In +dead silence the three passed the door, which was immediately locked behind +them, and followed their guide through several garden alleys to the kitchen +entrance of the house. A single candle burned in the great paved kitchen, which +was destitute of the customary furniture; and as the party proceeded to ascend +from thence by a flight of winding stairs, a prodigious noise of rats testified +still more plainly to the dilapidation of the house. +</p> + +<p> +Their conductor preceded them, carrying the candle. He was a lean man, much +bent, but still agile; and he turned from time to time and admonished silence +and caution by his gestures. Colonel Geraldine followed on his heels, the case +of swords under one arm, and a pistol ready in the other. Brackenbury’s +heart beat thickly. He perceived that they were still in time; but he judged +from the alacrity of the old man that the hour of action must be near at hand; +and the circumstances of this adventure were so obscure and menacing, the place +seemed so well chosen for the darkest acts, that an older man than Brackenbury +might have been pardoned a measure of emotion as he closed the procession up +the winding stair. +</p> + +<p> +At the top the guide threw open a door and ushered the three officers before +him into a small apartment, lighted by a smoky lamp and the glow of a modest +fire. At the chimney corner sat a man in the early prime of life, and of a +stout but courtly and commanding appearance. His attitude and expression were +those of the most unmoved composure; he was smoking a cheroot with much +enjoyment and deliberation, and on a table by his elbow stood a long glass of +some effervescing beverage which diffused an agreeable odour through the room. +</p> + +<p> +“Welcome,” said he, extending his hand to Colonel Geraldine. +“I knew I might count on your exactitude.” +</p> + +<p> +“On my devotion,” replied the Colonel, with a bow. +</p> + +<p> +“Present me to your friends,” continued the first; and, when that +ceremony had been performed, “I wish, gentlemen,” he added, with +the most exquisite affability, “that I could offer you a more cheerful +programme; it is ungracious to inaugurate an acquaintance upon serious affairs; +but the compulsion of events is stronger than the obligations of +good-fellowship. I hope and believe you will be able to forgive me this +unpleasant evening; and for men of your stamp it will be enough to know that +you are conferring a considerable favour.” +</p> + +<p> +“Your Highness,” said the Major, “must pardon my bluntness. I +am unable to hide what I know. For some time back I have suspected Major +Hammersmith, but Mr. Godall is unmistakable. To seek two men in London +unacquainted with Prince Florizel of Bohemia was to ask too much at +Fortune’s hands.” +</p> + +<p> +“Prince Florizel!” cried Brackenbury in amazement. +</p> + +<p> +And he gazed with the deepest interest on the features of the celebrated +personage before him. +</p> + +<p> +“I shall not lament the loss of my incognito,” remarked the Prince, +“for it enables me to thank you with the more authority. You would have +done as much for Mr. Godall, I feel sure, as for the Prince of Bohemia; but the +latter can perhaps do more for you. The gain is mine,” he added, with a +courteous gesture. +</p> + +<p> +And the next moment he was conversing with the two officers about the Indian +army and the native troops, a subject on which, as on all others, he had a +remarkable fund of information and the soundest views. +</p> + +<p> +There was something so striking in this man’s attitude at a moment of +deadly peril that Brackenbury was overcome with respectful admiration; nor was +he less sensible to the charm of his conversation or the surprising amenity of +his address. Every gesture, every intonation, was not only noble in itself, but +seemed to ennoble the fortunate mortal for whom it was intended; and +Brackenbury confessed to himself with enthusiasm that this was a sovereign for +whom a brave man might thankfully lay down his life. +</p> + +<p> +Many minutes had thus passed, when the person who had introduced them into the +house, and who had sat ever since in a corner, and with his watch in his hand, +arose and whispered a word into the Prince’s ear. +</p> + +<p> +“It is well, Dr. Noel,” replied Florizel, aloud; and then +addressing the others, “You will excuse me, gentlemen,” he added, +“if I have to leave you in the dark. The moment now approaches.” +</p> + +<p> +Dr. Noel extinguished the lamp. A faint, grey light, premonitory of the dawn, +illuminated the window, but was not sufficient to illuminate the room; and when +the Prince rose to his feet, it was impossible to distinguish his features or +to make a guess at the nature of the emotion which obviously affected him as he +spoke. He moved towards the door, and placed himself at one side of it in an +attitude of the wariest attention. +</p> + +<p> +“You will have the kindness,” he said, “to maintain the +strictest silence, and to conceal yourselves in the densest of the +shadow.” +</p> + +<p> +The three officers and the physician hastened to obey, and for nearly ten +minutes the only sound in Rochester House was occasioned by the excursions of +the rats behind the woodwork. At the end of that period, a loud creak of a +hinge broke in with surprising distinctness on the silence; and shortly after, +the watchers could distinguish a slow and cautious tread approaching up the +kitchen stair. At every second step the intruder seemed to pause and lend an +ear, and during these intervals, which seemed of an incalculable duration, a +profound disquiet possessed the spirit of the listeners. Dr. Noel, accustomed +as he was to dangerous emotions, suffered an almost pitiful physical +prostration; his breath whistled in his lungs, his teeth grated one upon +another, and his joints cracked aloud as he nervously shifted his position. +</p> + +<p> +At last a hand was laid upon the door, and the bolt shot back with a slight +report. There followed another pause, during which Brackenbury could see the +Prince draw himself together noiselessly as if for some unusual exertion. Then +the door opened, letting in a little more of the light of the morning; and the +figure of a man appeared upon the threshold and stood motionless. He was tall, +and carried a knife in his hand. Even in the twilight they could see his upper +teeth bare and glistening, for his mouth was open like that of a hound about to +leap. The man had evidently been over the head in water but a minute or two +before; and even while he stood there the drops kept falling from his wet +clothes and pattered on the floor. +</p> + +<p> +The next moment he crossed the threshold. There was a leap, a stifled cry, an +instantaneous struggle; and before Colonel Geraldine could spring to his aid, +the Prince held the man disarmed and helpless, by the shoulders. +</p> + +<p> +“Dr. Noel,” he said, “you will be so good as to re-light the +lamp.” +</p> + +<p> +And relinquishing the charge of his prisoner to Geraldine and Brackenbury, he +crossed the room and set his back against the chimney-piece. As soon as the +lamp had kindled, the party beheld an unaccustomed sternness on the +Prince’s features. It was no longer Florizel, the careless gentleman; it +was the Prince of Bohemia, justly incensed and full of deadly purpose, who now +raised his head and addressed the captive President of the Suicide Club. +</p> + +<p> +“President,” he said, “you have laid your last snare, and +your own feet are taken in it. The day is beginning; it is your last morning. +You have just swum the Regent’s Canal; it is your last bathe in this +world. Your old accomplice, Dr. Noel, so far from betraying me, has delivered +you into my hands for judgment. And the grave you had dug for me this afternoon +shall serve, in God’s almighty providence, to hide your own just doom +from the curiosity of mankind. Kneel and pray, sir, if you have a mind that +way; for your time is short, and God is weary of your iniquities.” +</p> + +<p> +The President made no answer either by word or sign; but continued to hang his +head and gaze sullenly on the floor, as though he were conscious of the +Prince’s prolonged and unsparing regard. +</p> + +<p> +“Gentlemen,” continued Florizel, resuming the ordinary tone of his +conversation, “this is a fellow who has long eluded me, but whom, thanks +to Dr. Noel, I now have tightly by the heels. To tell the story of his misdeeds +would occupy more time than we can now afford; but if the canal had contained +nothing but the blood of his victims, I believe the wretch would have been no +drier than you see him. Even in an affair of this sort I desire to preserve the +forms of honour. But I make you the judges, gentlemen—this is more an +execution than a duel and to give the rogue his choice of weapons would be to +push too far a point of etiquette. I cannot afford to lose my life in such a +business,” he continued, unlocking the case of swords; “and as a +pistol-bullet travels so often on the wings of chance, and skill and courage +may fall by the most trembling marksman, I have decided, and I feel sure you +will approve my determination, to put this question to the touch of +swords.” +</p> + +<p> +When Brackenbury and Major O’Rooke, to whom these remarks were +particularly addressed, had each intimated his approval, “Quick, +sir,” added Prince Florizel to the President, “choose a blade and +do not keep me waiting; I have an impatience to be done with you for +ever.” +</p> + +<p> +For the first time since he was captured and disarmed the President raised his +head, and it was plain that he began instantly to pluck up courage. +</p> + +<p> +“Is it to be stand up?” he asked eagerly, “and between you +and me?” +</p> + +<p> +“I mean so far to honour you,” replied the Prince. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, come!” cried the President. “With a fair field, who +knows how things may happen? I must add that I consider it handsome behaviour +on your Highness’s part; and if the worst comes to the worst I shall die +by one of the most gallant gentlemen in Europe.” +</p> + +<p> +And the President, liberated by those who had detained him, stepped up to the +table and began, with minute attention, to select a sword. He was highly +elated, and seemed to feel no doubt that he should issue victorious from the +contest. The spectators grew alarmed in the face of so entire a confidence, and +adjured Prince Florizel to reconsider his intention. +</p> + +<p> +“It is but a farce,” he answered; “and I think I can promise +you, gentlemen, that it will not be long a-playing.” +</p> + +<p> +“Your Highness will be careful not to over-reach,” said Colonel +Geraldine. +</p> + +<p> +“Geraldine,” returned the Prince, “did you ever know me fail +in a debt of honour? I owe you this man’s death, and you shall have +it.” +</p> + +<p> +The President at last satisfied himself with one of the rapiers, and signified +his readiness by a gesture that was not devoid of a rude nobility. The nearness +of peril, and the sense of courage, even to this obnoxious villain, lent an air +of manhood and a certain grace. +</p> + +<p> +The Prince helped himself at random to a sword. +</p> + +<p> +“Colonel Geraldine and Doctor Noel,” he said, “will have the +goodness to await me in this room. I wish no personal friend of mine to be +involved in this transaction. Major O’Rooke, you are a man of some years +and a settled reputation—let me recommend the President to your good +graces. Lieutenant Rich will be so good as lend me his attentions: a young man +cannot have too much experience in such affairs.” +</p> + +<p> +“Your Highness,” replied Brackenbury, “it is an honour I +shall prize extremely.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is well,” returned Prince Florizel; “I shall hope to +stand your friend in more important circumstances.” +</p> + +<p> +And so saying he led the way out of the apartment and down the kitchen stairs. +</p> + +<p> +The two men who were thus left alone threw open the window and leaned out, +straining every sense to catch an indication of the tragical events that were +about to follow. The rain was now over; day had almost come, and the birds were +piping in the shrubbery and on the forest trees of the garden. The Prince and +his companions were visible for a moment as they followed an alley between two +flowering thickets; but at the first corner a clump of foliage intervened, and +they were again concealed from view. This was all that the Colonel and the +Physician had an opportunity to see, and the garden was so vast, and the place +of combat evidently so remote from the house, that not even the noise of +sword-play reached their ears. +</p> + +<p> +“He has taken him towards the grave,” said Dr. Noel, with a +shudder. +</p> + +<p> +“God,” cried the Colonel, “God defend the right!” +</p> + +<p> +And they awaited the event in silence, the Doctor shaking with fear, the +Colonel in an agony of sweat. Many minutes must have elapsed, the day was +sensibly broader, and the birds were singing more heartily in the garden before +a sound of returning footsteps recalled their glances towards the door. It was +the Prince and the two Indian officers who entered. God had defended the right. +</p> + +<p> +“I am ashamed of my emotion,” said Prince Florizel; “I feel +it is a weakness unworthy of my station, but the continued existence of that +hound of hell had begun to prey upon me like a disease, and his death has more +refreshed me than a night of slumber. Look, Geraldine,” he continued, +throwing his sword upon the floor, “there is the blood of the man who +killed your brother. It should be a welcome sight. And yet,” he added, +“see how strangely we men are made! my revenge is not yet five minutes +old, and already I am beginning to ask myself if even revenge be attainable on +this precarious stage of life. The ill he did, who can undo it? The career in +which he amassed a huge fortune (for the house itself in which we stand +belonged to him)—that career is now a part of the destiny of mankind for +ever; and I might weary myself making thrusts in carte until the crack of +judgment, and Geraldine’s brother would be none the less dead, and a +thousand other innocent persons would be none the less dishonoured and +debauched! The existence of a man is so small a thing to take, so mighty a +thing to employ! Alas!” he cried, “is there anything in life so +disenchanting as attainment?” +</p> + +<p> +“God’s justice has been done,” replied the Doctor. “So +much I behold. The lesson, your Highness, has been a cruel one for me; and I +await my own turn with deadly apprehension.” +</p> + +<p> +“What was I saying?” cried the Prince. “I have punished, and +here is the man beside us who can help me to undo. Ah, Dr. Noel! you and I have +before us many a day of hard and honourable toil; and perhaps, before we have +none, you may have more than redeemed your early errors.” +</p> + +<p> +“And in the meantime,” said the Doctor, “let me go and bury +my oldest friend.” +</p> + +<div class="gapspace"> </div> + +<p> +(<i>And this</i>, observes the erudite Arabian, <i>is the fortunate conclusion +of the tale</i>. <i>The Prince</i>, <i>it is superfluous to mention</i>, +<i>forgot none of those who served him in this great exploit</i>; <i>and to +this day his authority and influence help them forward in their public +career</i>, <i>while his condescending friendship adds a charm to their private +life</i>. <i>To collect</i>, continues my author, <i>all the strange events in +which this Prince has played the part of Providence were to fill the habitable +globe with books</i>. <i>But the stories which relate to the fortunes of</i> +<span class="smcap">The Rajah’s Diamond</span> <i>are of too entertaining +a description</i>, says he, <i>to be omitted</i>. <i>Following prudently in the +footsteps of this Oriental</i>, <i>we shall now begin the series to which he +refers with the</i> <span class="smcap">Story of the Bandbox</span>.) +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap05"></a>THE RAJAH’S DIAMOND</h2> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap06"></a>STORY OF THE BANDBOX</h3> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">Up</span> to the age of sixteen, at a private school and +afterwards at one of those great institutions for which England is justly +famous, Mr. Harry Hartley had received the ordinary education of a gentleman. +At that period, he manifested a remarkable distaste for study; and his only +surviving parent being both weak and ignorant, he was permitted thenceforward +to spend his time in the attainment of petty and purely elegant +accomplishments. Two years later, he was left an orphan and almost a beggar. +For all active and industrious pursuits, Harry was unfitted alike by nature and +training. He could sing romantic ditties, and accompany himself with discretion +on the piano; he was a graceful although a timid cavalier; he had a pronounced +taste for chess; and nature had sent him into the world with one of the most +engaging exteriors that can well be fancied. Blond and pink, with dove’s +eyes and a gentle smile, he had an air of agreeable tenderness and melancholy, +and the most submissive and caressing manners. But when all is said, he was not +the man to lead armaments of war, or direct the councils of a State. +</p> + +<p> +A fortunate chance and some influence obtained for Harry, at the time of his +bereavement, the position of private secretary to Major-General Sir Thomas +Vandeleur, C.B. Sir Thomas was a man of sixty, loud-spoken, boisterous, and +domineering. For some reason, some service the nature of which had been often +whispered and repeatedly denied, the Rajah of Kashgar had presented this +officer with the sixth known diamond of the world. The gift transformed General +Vandeleur from a poor into a wealthy man, from an obscure and unpopular soldier +into one of the lions of London society; the possessor of the Rajah’s +Diamond was welcome in the most exclusive circles; and he had found a lady, +young, beautiful, and well-born, who was willing to call the diamond hers even +at the price of marriage with Sir Thomas Vandeleur. It was commonly said at the +time that, as like draws to like, one jewel had attracted another; certainly +Lady Vandeleur was not only a gem of the finest water in her own person, but +she showed herself to the world in a very costly setting; and she was +considered by many respectable authorities, as one among the three or four best +dressed women in England. +</p> + +<p> +Harry’s duty as secretary was not particularly onerous; but he had a +dislike for all prolonged work; it gave him pain to ink his fingers; and the +charms of Lady Vandeleur and her toilettes drew him often from the library to +the boudoir. He had the prettiest ways among women, could talk fashions with +enjoyment, and was never more happy than when criticising a shade of ribbon, or +running on an errand to the milliner’s. In short, Sir Thomas’s +correspondence fell into pitiful arrears, and my Lady had another lady’s +maid. +</p> + +<p> +At last the General, who was one of the least patient of military commanders, +arose from his place in a violent access of passion, and indicated to his +secretary that he had no further need for his services, with one of those +explanatory gestures which are most rarely employed between gentlemen. The door +being unfortunately open, Mr. Hartley fell downstairs head foremost. +</p> + +<p> +He arose somewhat hurt and very deeply aggrieved. The life in the +General’s house precisely suited him; he moved, on a more or less +doubtful footing, in very genteel company, he did little, he ate of the best, +and he had a lukewarm satisfaction in the presence of Lady Vandeleur, which, in +his own heart, he dubbed by a more emphatic name. +</p> + +<p> +Immediately after he had been outraged by the military foot, he hurried to the +boudoir and recounted his sorrows. +</p> + +<p> +“You know very well, my dear Harry,” replied Lady Vandeleur, for +she called him by name like a child or a domestic servant, “that you +never by any chance do what the General tells you. No more do I, you may say. +But that is different. A woman can earn her pardon for a good year of +disobedience by a single adroit submission; and, besides, no one is married to +his private secretary. I shall be sorry to lose you; but since you cannot stay +longer in a house where you have been insulted, I shall wish you good-bye, and +I promise you to make the General smart for his behaviour.” +</p> + +<p> +Harry’s countenance fell; tears came into his eyes, and he gazed on Lady +Vandeleur with a tender reproach. +</p> + +<p> +“My Lady,” said he, “what is an insult? I should think little +indeed of any one who could not forgive them by the score. But to leave +one’s friends; to tear up the bonds of affection—” +</p> + +<p> +He was unable to continue, for his emotion choked him, and he began to weep. +</p> + +<p> +Lady Vandeleur looked at him with a curious expression. “This little +fool,” she thought, “imagines himself to be in love with me. Why +should he not become my servant instead of the General’s? He is +good-natured, obliging, and understands dress; and besides it will keep him out +of mischief. He is positively too pretty to be unattached.” That night +she talked over the General, who was already somewhat ashamed of his vivacity; +and Harry was transferred to the feminine department, where his life was little +short of heavenly. He was always dressed with uncommon nicety, wore delicate +flowers in his button-hole, and could entertain a visitor with tact and +pleasantry. He took a pride in servility to a beautiful woman; received Lady +Vandeleur’s commands as so many marks of favour; and was pleased to +exhibit himself before other men, who derided and despised him, in his +character of male lady’s-maid and man milliner. Nor could he think enough +of his existence from a moral point of view. Wickedness seemed to him an +essentially male attribute, and to pass one’s days with a delicate woman, +and principally occupied about trimmings, was to inhabit an enchanted isle +among the storms of life. +</p> + +<p> +One fine morning he came into the drawing-room and began to arrange some music +on the top of the piano. Lady Vandeleur, at the other end of the apartment, was +speaking somewhat eagerly with her brother, Charlie Pendragon, an elderly young +man, much broken with dissipation, and very lame of one foot. The private +secretary, to whose entrance they paid no regard, could not avoid overhearing a +part of their conversation. +</p> + +<p> +“To-day or never,” said the lady. “Once and for all, it shall +be done to-day.” +</p> + +<p> +“To-day, if it must be,” replied the brother, with a sigh. +“But it is a false step, a ruinous step, Clara; and we shall live to +repent it dismally.” +</p> + +<p> +Lady Vandeleur looked her brother steadily and somewhat strangely in the face. +</p> + +<p> +“You forget,” she said; “the man must die at last.” +</p> + +<p> +“Upon my word, Clara,” said Pendragon, “I believe you are the +most heartless rascal in England.” +</p> + +<p> +“You men,” she returned, “are so coarsely built, that you can +never appreciate a shade of meaning. You are yourselves rapacious, violent, +immodest, careless of distinction; and yet the least thought for the future +shocks you in a woman. I have no patience with such stuff. You would despise in +a common banker the imbecility that you expect to find in us.” +</p> + +<p> +“You are very likely right,” replied her brother; “you were +always cleverer than I. And, anyway, you know my motto: The family before +all.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, Charlie,” she returned, taking his hand in hers, “I +know your motto better than you know it yourself. ‘And Clara before the +family!’ Is not that the second part of it? Indeed, you are the best of +brothers, and I love you dearly.” +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Pendragon got up, looking a little confused by these family endearments. +</p> + +<p> +“I had better not be seen,” said he. “I understand my part to +a miracle, and I’ll keep an eye on the Tame Cat.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do,” she replied. “He is an abject creature, and might ruin +all.” +</p> + +<p> +She kissed the tips of her fingers to him daintily; and the brother withdrew by +the boudoir and the back stair. +</p> + +<p> +“Harry,” said Lady Vandeleur, turning towards the secretary as soon +as they were alone, “I have a commission for you this morning. But you +shall take a cab; I cannot have my secretary freckled.” +</p> + +<p> +She spoke the last words with emphasis and a look of half-motherly pride that +caused great contentment to poor Harry; and he professed himself charmed to +find an opportunity of serving her. +</p> + +<p> +“It is another of our great secrets,” she went on archly, +“and no one must know of it but my secretary and me. Sir Thomas would +make the saddest disturbance; and if you only knew how weary I am of these +scenes! Oh, Harry, Harry, can you explain to me what makes you men so violent +and unjust? But, indeed, I know you cannot; you are the only man in the world +who knows nothing of these shameful passions; you are so good, Harry, and so +kind; you, at least, can be a woman’s friend; and, do you know? I think +you make the others more ugly by comparison.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is you,” said Harry gallantly, “who are so kind to me. +You treat me like—” +</p> + +<p> +“Like a mother,” interposed Lady Vandeleur; “I try to be a +mother to you. Or, at least,” she corrected herself with a smile, +“almost a mother. I am afraid I am too young to be your mother really. +Let us say a friend—a dear friend.” +</p> + +<p> +She paused long enough to let her words take effect in Harry’s +sentimental quarters, but not long enough to allow him a reply. +</p> + +<p> +“But all this is beside our purpose,” she resumed. “You will +find a bandbox in the left-hand side of the oak wardrobe; it is underneath the +pink slip that I wore on Wednesday with my Mechlin. You will take it +immediately to this address,” and she gave him a paper, “but do +not, on any account, let it out of your hands until you have received a receipt +written by myself. Do you understand? Answer, if you please—answer! This +is extremely important, and I must ask you to pay some attention.” +</p> + +<p> +Harry pacified her by repeating her instructions perfectly; and she was just +going to tell him more when General Vandeleur flung into the apartment, scarlet +with anger, and holding a long and elaborate milliner’s bill in his hand. +</p> + +<p> +“Will you look at this, madam?” cried he. “Will you have the +goodness to look at this document? I know well enough you married me for my +money, and I hope I can make as great allowances as any other man in the +service; but, as sure as God made me, I mean to put a period to this +disreputable prodigality.” +</p> + +<p> +“Mr. Hartley,” said Lady Vandeleur, “I think you understand +what you have to do. May I ask you to see to it at once?” +</p> + +<p> +“Stop,” said the General, addressing Harry, “one word before +you go.” And then, turning again to Lady Vandeleur, “What is this +precious fellow’s errand?” he demanded. “I trust him no +further than I do yourself, let me tell you. If he had as much as the rudiments +of honesty, he would scorn to stay in this house; and what he does for his +wages is a mystery to all the world. What is his errand, madam? and why are you +hurrying him away?” +</p> + +<p> +“I supposed you had something to say to me in private,” replied the +lady. +</p> + +<p> +“You spoke about an errand,” insisted the General. “Do not +attempt to deceive me in my present state of temper. You certainly spoke about +an errand.” +</p> + +<p> +“If you insist on making your servants privy to our humiliating +dissensions,” replied Lady Vandeleur, “perhaps I had better ask Mr. +Hartley to sit down. No?” she continued; “then you may go, Mr. +Hartley. I trust you may remember all that you have heard in this room; it may +be useful to you.” +</p> + +<p> +Harry at once made his escape from the drawing-room; and as he ran upstairs he +could hear the General’s voice upraised in declamation, and the thin +tones of Lady Vandeleur planting icy repartees at every opening. How cordially +he admired the wife! How skilfully she could evade an awkward question! with +what secure effrontery she repeated her instructions under the very guns of the +enemy! and on the other hand, how he detested the husband! +</p> + +<p> +There had been nothing unfamiliar in the morning’s events, for he was +continually in the habit of serving Lady Vandeleur on secret missions, +principally connected with millinery. There was a skeleton in the house, as he +well knew. The bottomless extravagance and the unknown liabilities of the wife +had long since swallowed her own fortune, and threatened day by day to engulph +that of the husband. Once or twice in every year exposure and ruin seemed +imminent, and Harry kept trotting round to all sorts of furnishers’ +shops, telling small fibs, and paying small advances on the gross amount, until +another term was tided over, and the lady and her faithful secretary breathed +again. For Harry, in a double capacity, was heart and soul upon that side of +the war: not only did he adore Lady Vandeleur and fear and dislike her husband, +but he naturally sympathised with the love of finery, and his own single +extravagance was at the tailor’s. +</p> + +<p> +He found the bandbox where it had been described, arranged his toilette with +care, and left the house. The sun shone brightly; the distance he had to travel +was considerable, and he remembered with dismay that the General’s sudden +irruption had prevented Lady Vandeleur from giving him money for a cab. On this +sultry day there was every chance that his complexion would suffer severely; +and to walk through so much of London with a bandbox on his arm was a +humiliation almost insupportable to a youth of his character. He paused, and +took counsel with himself. The Vandeleurs lived in Eaton Place; his destination +was near Notting Hill; plainly, he might cross the Park by keeping well in the +open and avoiding populous alleys; and he thanked his stars when he reflected +that it was still comparatively early in the day. +</p> + +<p> +Anxious to be rid of his incubus, he walked somewhat faster than his ordinary, +and he was already some way through Kensington Gardens when, in a solitary spot +among trees, he found himself confronted by the General. +</p> + +<p> +“I beg your pardon, Sir Thomas,” observed Harry, politely falling +on one side; for the other stood directly in his path. +</p> + +<p> +“Where are you going, sir?” asked the General. +</p> + +<p> +“I am taking a little walk among the trees,” replied the lad. +</p> + +<p> +The General struck the bandbox with his cane. +</p> + +<p> +“With that thing?” he cried; “you lie, sir, and you know you +lie!” +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed, Sir Thomas,” returned Harry, “I am not accustomed to +be questioned in so high a key.” +</p> + +<p> +“You do not understand your position,” said the General. “You +are my servant, and a servant of whom I have conceived the most serious +suspicions. How do I know but that your box is full of teaspoons?” +</p> + +<p> +“It contains a silk hat belonging to a friend,” said Harry. +</p> + +<p> +“Very well,” replied General Vandeleur. “Then I want to see +your friend’s silk hat. I have,” he added grimly, “a singular +curiosity for hats; and I believe you know me to be somewhat positive.” +</p> + +<p> +“I beg your pardon, Sir Thomas, I am exceedingly grieved,” Harry +apologised; “but indeed this is a private affair.” +</p> + +<p> +The General caught him roughly by the shoulder with one hand, while he raised +his cane in the most menacing manner with the other. Harry gave himself up for +lost; but at the same moment Heaven vouchsafed him an unexpected defender in +the person of Charlie Pendragon, who now strode forward from behind the trees. +</p> + +<p> +“Come, come, General, hold your hand,” said he, “this is +neither courteous nor manly.” +</p> + +<p> +“Aha!” cried the General, wheeling round upon his new antagonist, +“Mr. Pendragon! And do you suppose, Mr. Pendragon, that because I have +had the misfortune to marry your sister, I shall suffer myself to be dogged and +thwarted by a discredited and bankrupt libertine like you? My acquaintance with +Lady Vandeleur, sir, has taken away all my appetite for the other members of +her family.” +</p> + +<p> +“And do you fancy, General Vandeleur,” retorted Charlie, +“that because my sister has had the misfortune to marry you, she there +and then forfeited her rights and privileges as a lady? I own, sir, that by +that action she did as much as anybody could to derogate from her position; but +to me she is still a Pendragon. I make it my business to protect her from +ungentlemanly outrage, and if you were ten times her husband I would not permit +her liberty to be restrained, nor her private messengers to be violently +arrested.” +</p> + +<p> +“How is that, Mr. Hartley?” interrogated the General. “Mr. +Pendragon is of my opinion, it appears. He too suspects that Lady Vandeleur has +something to do with your friend’s silk hat.” +</p> + +<p> +Charlie saw that he had committed an unpardonable blunder, which he hastened to +repair. +</p> + +<p> +“How, sir?” he cried; “I suspect, do you say? I suspect +nothing. Only where I find strength abused and a man brutalising his inferiors, +I take the liberty to interfere.” +</p> + +<p> +As he said these words he made a sign to Harry, which the latter was too dull +or too much troubled to understand. +</p> + +<p> +“In what way am I to construe your attitude, sir?” demanded +Vandeleur. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, sir, as you please,” returned Pendragon. +</p> + +<p> +The General once more raised his cane, and made a cut for Charlie’s head; +but the latter, lame foot and all, evaded the blow with his umbrella, ran in, +and immediately closed with his formidable adversary. +</p> + +<p> +“Run, Harry, run!” he cried; “run, you dolt!” +</p> + +<p> +Harry stood petrified for a moment, watching the two men sway together in this +fierce embrace; then he turned and took to his heels. When he cast a glance +over his shoulder he saw the General prostrate under Charlie’s knee, but +still making desperate efforts to reverse the situation; and the Gardens seemed +to have filled with people, who were running from all directions towards the +scene of fight. This spectacle lent the secretary wings; and he did not relax +his pace until he had gained the Bayswater road, and plunged at random into an +unfrequented by-street. +</p> + +<p> +To see two gentlemen of his acquaintance thus brutally mauling each other was +deeply shocking to Harry. He desired to forget the sight; he desired, above +all, to put as great a distance as possible between himself and General +Vandeleur; and in his eagerness for this he forgot everything about his +destination, and hurried before him headlong and trembling. When he remembered +that Lady Vandeleur was the wife of one and the sister of the other of these +gladiators, his heart was touched with sympathy for a woman so distressingly +misplaced in life. Even his own situation in the General’s household +looked hardly so pleasing as usual in the light of these violent transactions. +</p> + +<p> +He had walked some little distance, busied with these meditations, before a +slight collision with another passenger reminded him of the bandbox on his arm. +</p> + +<p> +“Heavens!” cried he, “where was my head? and whither have I +wandered?” +</p> + +<p> +Thereupon he consulted the envelope which Lady Vandeleur had given him. The +address was there, but without a name. Harry was simply directed to ask for +“the gentleman who expected a parcel from Lady Vandeleur,” and if +he were not at home to await his return. The gentleman, added the note, should +present a receipt in the handwriting of the lady herself. All this seemed +mightily mysterious, and Harry was above all astonished at the omission of the +name and the formality of the receipt. He had thought little of this last when +he heard it dropped in conversation; but reading it in cold blood, and taking +it in connection with the other strange particulars, he became convinced that +he was engaged in perilous affairs. For half a moment he had a doubt of Lady +Vandeleur herself; for he found these obscure proceedings somewhat unworthy of +so high a lady, and became more critical when her secrets were preserved +against himself. But her empire over his spirit was too complete, he dismissed +his suspicions, and blamed himself roundly for having so much as entertained +them. +</p> + +<p> +In one thing, however, his duty and interest, his generosity and his terrors, +coincided—to get rid of the bandbox with the greatest possible despatch. +</p> + +<p> +He accosted the first policeman and courteously inquired his way. It turned out +that he was already not far from his destination, and a walk of a few minutes +brought him to a small house in a lane, freshly painted, and kept with the most +scrupulous attention. The knocker and bell-pull were highly polished; flowering +pot-herbs garnished the sills of the different windows; and curtains of some +rich material concealed the interior from the eyes of curious passengers. The +place had an air of repose and secrecy; and Harry was so far caught with this +spirit that he knocked with more than usual discretion, and was more than +usually careful to remove all impurity from his boots. +</p> + +<p> +A servant-maid of some personal attractions immediately opened the door, and +seemed to regard the secretary with no unkind eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“This is the parcel from Lady Vandeleur,” said Harry. +</p> + +<p> +“I know,” replied the maid, with a nod. “But the gentleman is +from home. Will you leave it with me?” +</p> + +<p> +“I cannot,” answered Harry. “I am directed not to part with +it but upon a certain condition, and I must ask you, I am afraid, to let me +wait.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” said she, “I suppose I may let you wait. I am lonely +enough, I can tell you, and you do not look as though you would eat a girl. But +be sure and do not ask the gentleman’s name, for that I am not to tell +you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you say so?” cried Harry. “Why, how strange! But indeed +for some time back I walk among surprises. One question I think I may surely +ask without indiscretion: Is he the master of this house?” +</p> + +<p> +“He is a lodger, and not eight days old at that,” returned the +maid. “And now a question for a question: Do you know lady +Vandeleur?” +</p> + +<p> +“I am her private secretary,” replied Harry with a glow of modest +pride. +</p> + +<p> +“She is pretty, is she not?” pursued the servant. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, beautiful!” cried Harry; “wonderfully lovely, and not +less good and kind!” +</p> + +<p> +“You look kind enough yourself,” she retorted; “and I wager +you are worth a dozen Lady Vandeleurs.” +</p> + +<p> +Harry was properly scandalised. +</p> + +<p> +“I!” he cried. “I am only a secretary!” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you mean that for me?” said the girl. “Because I am only +a housemaid, if you please.” And then, relenting at the sight of +Harry’s obvious confusion, “I know you mean nothing of the +sort,” she added; “and I like your looks; but I think nothing of +your Lady Vandeleur. Oh, these mistresses!” she cried. “To send out +a real gentleman like you—with a bandbox—in broad day!” +</p> + +<p> +During this talk they had remained in their original positions—she on the +doorstep, he on the side-walk, bareheaded for the sake of coolness, and with +the bandbox on his arm. But upon this last speech Harry, who was unable to +support such point-blank compliments to his appearance, nor the encouraging +look with which they were accompanied, began to change his attitude, and glance +from left to right in perturbation. In so doing he turned his face towards the +lower end of the lane, and there, to his indescribable dismay, his eyes +encountered those of General Vandeleur. The General, in a prodigious fluster of +heat, hurry, and indignation, had been scouring the streets in chase of his +brother-in-law; but so soon as he caught a glimpse of the delinquent secretary, +his purpose changed, his anger flowed into a new channel, and he turned on his +heel and came tearing up the lane with truculent gestures and vociferations. +</p> + +<p> +Harry made but one bolt of it into the house, driving the maid before him; and +the door was slammed in his pursuer’s countenance. +</p> + +<p> +“Is there a bar? Will it lock?” asked Harry, while a salvo on the +knocker made the house echo from wall to wall. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, what is wrong with you?” asked the maid. “Is it this +old gentleman?” +</p> + +<p> +“If he gets hold of me,” whispered Harry, “I am as good as +dead. He has been pursuing me all day, carries a sword-stick, and is an Indian +military officer.” +</p> + +<p> +“These are fine manners,” cried the maid. “And what, if you +please, may be his name?” +</p> + +<p> +“It is the General, my master,” answered Harry. “He is after +this bandbox.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did not I tell you?” cried the maid in triumph. “I told you +I thought worse than nothing of your Lady Vandeleur; and if you had an eye in +your head you might see what she is for yourself. An ungrateful minx, I will be +bound for that!” +</p> + +<p> +The General renewed his attack upon the knocker, and his passion growing with +delay, began to kick and beat upon the panels of the door. +</p> + +<p> +“It is lucky,” observed the girl, “that I am alone in the +house; your General may hammer until he is weary, and there is none to open for +him. Follow me!” +</p> + +<p> +So saying she led Harry into the kitchen, where she made him sit down, and +stood by him herself in an affectionate attitude, with a hand upon his +shoulder. The din at the door, so far from abating, continued to increase in +volume, and at each blow the unhappy secretary was shaken to the heart. +</p> + +<p> +“What is your name?” asked the girl. +</p> + +<p> +“Harry Hartley,” he replied. +</p> + +<p> +“Mine,” she went on, “is Prudence. Do you like it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Very much,” said Harry. “But hear for a moment how the +General beats upon the door. He will certainly break it in, and then, in +heaven’s name, what have I to look for but death?” +</p> + +<p> +“You put yourself very much about with no occasion,” answered +Prudence. “Let your General knock, he will do no more than blister his +hands. Do you think I would keep you here if I were not sure to save you? Oh, +no, I am a good friend to those that please me! and we have a back door upon +another lane. But,” she added, checking him, for he had got upon his feet +immediately on this welcome news, “but I will not show where it is unless +you kiss me. Will you, Harry?” +</p> + +<p> +“That I will,” he cried, remembering his gallantry, “not for +your back door, but because you are good and pretty.” +</p> + +<p> +And he administered two or three cordial salutes, which were returned to him in +kind. +</p> + +<p> +Then Prudence led him to the back gate, and put her hand upon the key. +</p> + +<p> +“Will you come and see me?” she asked. +</p> + +<p> +“I will indeed,” said Harry. “Do not I owe you my +life?” +</p> + +<p> +“And now,” she added, opening the door, “run as hard as you +can, for I shall let in the General.” +</p> + +<p> +Harry scarcely required this advice; fear had him by the forelock; and he +addressed himself diligently to flight. A few steps, and he believed he would +escape from his trials, and return to Lady Vandeleur in honour and safety. But +these few steps had not been taken before he heard a man’s voice hailing +him by name with many execrations, and, looking over his shoulder, he beheld +Charlie Pendragon waving him with both arms to return. The shock of this new +incident was so sudden and profound, and Harry was already worked into so high +a state of nervous tension, that he could think of nothing better than to +accelerate his pace, and continue running. He should certainly have remembered +the scene in Kensington Gardens; he should certainly have concluded that, where +the General was his enemy, Charlie Pendragon could be no other than a friend. +But such was the fever and perturbation of his mind that he was struck by none +of these considerations, and only continued to run the faster up the lane. +</p> + +<p> +Charlie, by the sound of his voice and the vile terms that he hurled after the +secretary, was obviously beside himself with rage. He, too, ran his very best; +but, try as he might, the physical advantages were not upon his side, and his +outcries and the fall of his lame foot on the macadam began to fall farther and +farther into the wake. +</p> + +<p> +Harry’s hopes began once more to arise. The lane was both steep and +narrow, but it was exceedingly solitary, bordered on either hand by garden +walls, overhung with foliage; and, for as far as the fugitive could see in +front of him, there was neither a creature moving nor an open door. Providence, +weary of persecution, was now offering him an open field for his escape. +</p> + +<p> +Alas! as he came abreast of a garden door under a tuft of chestnuts, it was +suddenly drawn back, and he could see inside, upon a garden path, the figure of +a butcher’s boy with his tray upon his arm. He had hardly recognised the +fact before he was some steps beyond upon the other side. But the fellow had +had time to observe him; he was evidently much surprised to see a gentleman go +by at so unusual a pace; and he came out into the lane and began to call after +Harry with shouts of ironical encouragement. +</p> + +<p> +His appearance gave a new idea to Charlie Pendragon, who, although he was now +sadly out of breath, once more upraised his voice. +</p> + +<p> +“Stop, thief!” he cried. +</p> + +<p> +And immediately the butcher’s boy had taken up the cry and joined in the +pursuit. +</p> + +<p> +This was a bitter moment for the hunted secretary. It is true that his terror +enabled him once more to improve his pace, and gain with every step on his +pursuers; but he was well aware that he was near the end of his resources, and +should he meet any one coming the other way, his predicament in the narrow lane +would be desperate indeed. +</p> + +<p> +“I must find a place of concealment,” he thought, “and that +within the next few seconds, or all is over with me in this world.” +</p> + +<p> +Scarcely had the thought crossed his mind than the lane took a sudden turning; +and he found himself hidden from his enemies. There are circumstances in which +even the least energetic of mankind learn to behave with vigour and decision; +and the most cautious forget their prudence and embrace foolhardy resolutions. +This was one of those occasions for Harry Hartley; and those who knew him best +would have been the most astonished at the lad’s audacity. He stopped +dead, flung the bandbox over a garden wall, and leaping upward with incredible +agility and seizing the copestone with his hands, he tumbled headlong after it +into the garden. +</p> + +<p> +He came to himself a moment afterwards, seated in a border of small rosebushes. +His hands and knees were cut and bleeding, for the wall had been protected +against such an escalade by a liberal provision of old bottles; and he was +conscious of a general dislocation and a painful swimming in the head. Facing +him across the garden, which was in admirable order, and set with flowers of +the most delicious perfume, he beheld the back of a house. It was of +considerable extent, and plainly habitable; but, in odd contrast to the +grounds, it was crazy, ill-kept, and of a mean appearance. On all other sides +the circuit of the garden wall appeared unbroken. +</p> + +<p> +He took in these features of the scene with mechanical glances, but his mind +was still unable to piece together or draw a rational conclusion from what he +saw. And when he heard footsteps advancing on the gravel, although he turned +his eyes in that direction, it was with no thought either for defence or +flight. +</p> + +<p> +The new-comer was a large, coarse, and very sordid personage, in gardening +clothes, and with a watering-pot in his left hand. One less confused would have +been affected with some alarm at the sight of this man’s huge proportions +and black and lowering eyes. But Harry was too gravely shaken by his fall to be +so much as terrified; and if he was unable to divert his glances from the +gardener, he remained absolutely passive, and suffered him to draw near, to +take him by the shoulder, and to plant him roughly on his feet, without a +motion of resistance. +</p> + +<p> +For a moment the two stared into each other’s eyes, Harry fascinated, the +man filled with wrath and a cruel, sneering humour. +</p> + +<p> +“Who are you?” he demanded at last. “Who are you to come +flying over my wall and break my <i>Gloire de Dijons</i>! What is your +name?” he added, shaking him; “and what may be your business +here?” +</p> + +<p> +Harry could not as much as proffer a word in explanation. +</p> + +<p> +But just at that moment Pendragon and the butcher’s boy went clumping +past, and the sound of their feet and their hoarse cries echoed loudly in the +narrow lane. The gardener had received his answer; and he looked down into +Harry’s face with an obnoxious smile. +</p> + +<p> +“A thief!” he said. “Upon my word, and a very good thing you +must make of it; for I see you dressed like a gentleman from top to toe. Are +you not ashamed to go about the world in such a trim, with honest folk, I dare +say, glad to buy your cast-off finery second hand? Speak up, you dog,” +the man went on; “you can understand English, I suppose; and I mean to +have a bit of talk with you before I march you to the station.” +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed, sir,” said Harry, “this is all a dreadful +misconception; and if you will go with me to Sir Thomas Vandeleur’s in +Eaton Place, I can promise that all will be made plain. The most upright +person, as I now perceive, can be led into suspicious positions.” +</p> + +<p> +“My little man,” replied the gardener, “I will go with you no +farther than the station-house in the next street. The inspector, no doubt, +will be glad to take a stroll with you as far as Eaton Place, and have a bit of +afternoon tea with your great acquaintances. Or would you prefer to go direct +to the Home Secretary? Sir Thomas Vandeleur, indeed! Perhaps you think I +don’t know a gentleman when I see one, from a common run-the-hedge like +you? Clothes or no clothes, I can read you like a book. Here is a shirt that +maybe cost as much as my Sunday hat; and that coat, I take it, has never seen +the inside of Rag-fair, and then your boots—” +</p> + +<p> +The man, whose eyes had fallen upon the ground, stopped short in his insulting +commentary, and remained for a moment looking intently upon something at his +feet. When he spoke his voice was strangely altered. +</p> + +<p> +“What, in God’s name,” said he, “is all this?” +</p> + +<p> +Harry, following the direction of the man’s eyes, beheld a spectacle that +struck him dumb with terror and amazement. In his fall he had descended +vertically upon the bandbox and burst it open from end to end; thence a great +treasure of diamonds had poured forth, and now lay abroad, part trodden in the +soil, part scattered on the surface in regal and glittering profusion. There +was a magnificent coronet which he had often admired on Lady Vandeleur; there +were rings and brooches, ear-drops and bracelets, and even unset brilliants +rolling here and there among the rosebushes like drops of morning dew. A +princely fortune lay between the two men upon the ground—a fortune in the +most inviting, solid, and durable form, capable of being carried in an apron, +beautiful in itself, and scattering the sunlight in a million rainbow flashes. +</p> + +<p> +“Good God!” said Harry, “I am lost!” +</p> + +<p> +His mind raced backwards into the past with the incalculable velocity of +thought, and he began to comprehend his day’s adventures, to conceive +them as a whole, and to recognise the sad imbroglio in which his own character +and fortunes had become involved. He looked round him as if for help, but he +was alone in the garden, with his scattered diamonds and his redoubtable +interlocutor; and when he gave ear, there was no sound but the rustle of the +leaves and the hurried pulsation of his heart. It was little wonder if the +young man felt himself deserted by his spirits, and with a broken voice +repeated his last ejaculation—“I am lost!” +</p> + +<p> +The gardener peered in all directions with an air of guilt; but there was no +face at any of the windows, and he seemed to breathe again. +</p> + +<p> +“Pick up a heart,” he said, “you fool! The worst of it is +done. Why could you not say at first there was enough for two? Two?” he +repeated, “aye, and for two hundred! But come away from here, where we +may be observed; and, for the love of wisdom, straighten out your hat and brush +your clothes. You could not travel two steps the figure of fun you look just +now.” +</p> + +<p> +While Harry mechanically adopted these suggestions, the gardener, getting upon +his knees, hastily drew together the scattered jewels and returned them to the +bandbox. The touch of these costly crystals sent a shiver of emotion through +the man’s stalwart frame; his face was transfigured, and his eyes shone +with concupiscence; indeed it seemed as if he luxuriously prolonged his +occupation, and dallied with every diamond that he handled. At last, however, +it was done; and, concealing the bandbox in his smock, the gardener beckoned to +Harry and preceded him in the direction of the house. +</p> + +<p> +Near the door they were met by a young man evidently in holy orders, dark and +strikingly handsome, with a look of mingled weakness and resolution, and very +neatly attired after the manner of his caste. The gardener was plainly annoyed +by this encounter; but he put as good a face upon it as he could, and accosted +the clergyman with an obsequious and smiling air. +</p> + +<p> +“Here is a fine afternoon, Mr. Rolles,” said he: “a fine +afternoon, as sure as God made it! And here is a young friend of mine who had a +fancy to look at my roses. I took the liberty to bring him in, for I thought +none of the lodgers would object.” +</p> + +<p> +“Speaking for myself,” replied the Reverend Mr. Rolles, “I do +not; nor do I fancy any of the rest of us would be more difficult upon so small +a matter. The garden is your own, Mr. Raeburn; we must none of us forget that; +and because you give us liberty to walk there we should be indeed ungracious if +we so far presumed upon your politeness as to interfere with the convenience of +your friends. But, on second thoughts,” he added, “I believe that +this gentleman and I have met before. Mr. Hartley, I think. I regret to observe +that you have had a fall.” +</p> + +<p> +And he offered his hand. +</p> + +<p> +A sort of maiden dignity and a desire to delay as long as possible the +necessity for explanation moved Harry to refuse this chance of help, and to +deny his own identity. He chose the tender mercies of the gardener, who was at +least unknown to him, rather than the curiosity and perhaps the doubts of an +acquaintance. +</p> + +<p> +“I fear there is some mistake,” said he. “My name is +Thomlinson and I am a friend of Mr. Raeburn’s.” +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed?” said Mr. Rolles. “The likeness is amazing.” +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Raeburn, who had been upon thorns throughout this colloquy, now felt it +high time to bring it to a period. +</p> + +<p> +“I wish you a pleasant saunter, sir,” said he. +</p> + +<p> +And with that he dragged Harry after him into the house, and then into a +chamber on the garden. His first care was to draw down the blind, for Mr. +Rolles still remained where they had left him, in an attitude of perplexity and +thought. Then he emptied the broken bandbox on the table, and stood before the +treasure, thus fully displayed, with an expression of rapturous greed, and +rubbing his hands upon his thighs. For Harry, the sight of the man’s face +under the influence of this base emotion, added another pang to those he was +already suffering. It seemed incredible that, from his life of pure and +delicate trifling, he should be plunged in a breath among sordid and criminal +relations. He could reproach his conscience with no sinful act; and yet he was +now suffering the punishment of sin in its most acute and cruel forms—the +dread of punishment, the suspicions of the good, and the companionship and +contamination of vile and brutal natures. He felt he could lay his life down +with gladness to escape from the room and the society of Mr. Raeburn. +</p> + +<p> +“And now,” said the latter, after he had separated the jewels into +two nearly equal parts, and drawn one of them nearer to himself; “and +now,” said he, “everything in this world has to be paid for, and +some things sweetly. You must know, Mr. Hartley, if such be your name, that I +am a man of a very easy temper, and good nature has been my stumbling-block +from first to last. I could pocket the whole of these pretty pebbles, if I +chose, and I should like to see you dare to say a word; but I think I must have +taken a liking to you; for I declare I have not the heart to shave you so +close. So, do you see, in pure kind feeling, I propose that we divide; and +these,” indicating the two heaps, “are the proportions that seem to +me just and friendly. Do you see any objection, Mr. Hartley, may I ask? I am +not the man to stick upon a brooch.” +</p> + +<p> +“But, sir,” cried Harry, “what you propose to me is +impossible. The jewels are not mine, and I cannot share what is +another’s, no matter with whom, nor in what proportions.” +</p> + +<p> +“They are not yours, are they not?” returned Raeburn. “And +you could not share them with anybody, couldn’t you? Well now, that is +what I call a pity; for here am I obliged to take you to the station. The +police—think of that,” he continued; “think of the disgrace +for your respectable parents; think,” he went on, taking Harry by the +wrist; “think of the Colonies and the Day of Judgment.” +</p> + +<p> +“I cannot help it,” wailed Harry. “It is not my fault. You +will not come with me to Eaton Place?” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” replied the man, “I will not, that is certain. And I +mean to divide these playthings with you here.” +</p> + +<p> +And so saying he applied a sudden and severe torsion to the lad’s wrist. +</p> + +<p> +Harry could not suppress a scream, and the perspiration burst forth upon his +face. Perhaps pain and terror quickened his intelligence, but certainly at that +moment the whole business flashed across him in another light; and he saw that +there was nothing for it but to accede to the ruffian’s proposal, and +trust to find the house and force him to disgorge, under more favourable +circumstances, and when he himself was clear from all suspicion. +</p> + +<p> +“I agree,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +“There is a lamb,” sneered the gardener. “I thought you would +recognise your interests at last. This bandbox,” he continued, “I +shall burn with my rubbish; it is a thing that curious folk might recognise; +and as for you, scrape up your gaieties and put them in your pocket.” +</p> + +<p> +Harry proceeded to obey, Raeburn watching him, and every now and again his +greed rekindled by some bright scintillation, abstracting another jewel from +the secretary’s share, and adding it to his own. +</p> + +<p> +When this was finished, both proceeded to the front door, which Raeburn +cautiously opened to observe the street. This was apparently clear of +passengers; for he suddenly seized Harry by the nape of the neck, and holding +his face downward so that he could see nothing but the roadway and the +doorsteps of the houses, pushed him violently before him down one street and up +another for the space of perhaps a minute and a half. Harry had counted three +corners before the bully relaxed his grasp, and crying, “Now be off with +you!” sent the lad flying head foremost with a well-directed and athletic +kick. +</p> + +<p> +When Harry gathered himself up, half-stunned and bleeding freely at the nose, +Mr. Raeburn had entirely disappeared. For the first time, anger and pain so +completely overcame the lad’s spirits that he burst into a fit of tears +and remained sobbing in the middle of the road. +</p> + +<p> +After he had thus somewhat assuaged his emotion, he began to look about him and +read the names of the streets at whose intersection he had been deserted by the +gardener. He was still in an unfrequented portion of West London, among villas +and large gardens; but he could see some persons at a window who had evidently +witnessed his misfortune; and almost immediately after a servant came running +from the house and offered him a glass of water. At the same time, a dirty +rogue, who had been slouching somewhere in the neighbourhood, drew near him +from the other side. +</p> + +<p> +“Poor fellow,” said the maid, “how vilely you have been +handled, to be sure! Why, your knees are all cut, and your clothes ruined! Do +you know the wretch who used you so?” +</p> + +<p> +“That I do!” cried Harry, who was somewhat refreshed by the water; +“and shall run him home in spite of his precautions. He shall pay dearly +for this day’s work, I promise you.” +</p> + +<p> +“You had better come into the house and have yourself washed and +brushed,” continued the maid. “My mistress will make you welcome, +never fear. And see, I will pick up your hat. Why, love of mercy!” she +screamed, “if you have not dropped diamonds all over the street!” +</p> + +<p> +Such was the case; a good half of what remained to him after the depredations +of Mr. Raeburn, had been shaken out of his pockets by the summersault and once +more lay glittering on the ground. He blessed his fortune that the maid had +been so quick of eye; “there is nothing so bad but it might be +worse,” thought he; and the recovery of these few seemed to him almost as +great an affair as the loss of all the rest. But, alas! as he stooped to pick +up his treasures, the loiterer made a rapid onslaught, overset both Harry and +the maid with a movement of his arms, swept up a double handful of the +diamonds, and made off along the street with an amazing swiftness. +</p> + +<p> +Harry, as soon as he could get upon his feet, gave chase to the miscreant with +many cries, but the latter was too fleet of foot, and probably too well +acquainted with the locality; for turn where the pursuer would he could find no +traces of the fugitive. +</p> + +<p> +In the deepest despondency, Harry revisited the scene of his mishap, where the +maid, who was still waiting, very honestly returned him his hat and the +remainder of the fallen diamonds. Harry thanked her from his heart, and being +now in no humour for economy, made his way to the nearest cab-stand and set off +for Eaton Place by coach. +</p> + +<p> +The house, on his arrival, seemed in some confusion, as if a catastrophe had +happened in the family; and the servants clustered together in the hall, and +were unable, or perhaps not altogether anxious, to suppress their merriment at +the tatterdemalion figure of the secretary. He passed them with as good an air +of dignity as he could assume, and made directly for the boudoir. When he +opened the door an astonishing and even menacing spectacle presented itself to +his eyes; for he beheld the General and his wife and, of all people, Charlie +Pendragon, closeted together and speaking with earnestness and gravity on some +important subject. Harry saw at once that there was little left for him to +explain—plenary confession had plainly been made to the General of the +intended fraud upon his pocket, and the unfortunate miscarriage of the scheme; +and they had all made common cause against a common danger. +</p> + +<p> +“Thank Heaven!” cried Lady Vandeleur, “here he is! The +bandbox, Harry—the bandbox!” +</p> + +<p> +But Harry stood before them silent and downcast. +</p> + +<p> +“Speak!” she cried. “Speak! Where is the bandbox?” +</p> + +<p> +And the men, with threatening gestures, repeated the demand. +</p> + +<p> +Harry drew a handful of jewels from his pocket. He was very white. +</p> + +<p> +“This is all that remains,” said he. “I declare before Heaven +it was through no fault of mine; and if you will have patience, although some +are lost, I am afraid, for ever, others, I am sure, may be still +recovered.” +</p> + +<p> +“Alas!” cried Lady Vandeleur, “all our diamonds are gone, and +I owe ninety thousand pounds for dress!” +</p> + +<p> +“Madam,” said the General, “you might have paved the gutter +with your own trash; you might have made debts to fifty times the sum you +mention; you might have robbed me of my mother’s coronet and ring; and +Nature might have still so far prevailed that I could have forgiven you at +last. But, madam, you have taken the Rajah’s Diamond—the Eye of +Light, as the Orientals poetically termed it—the Pride of Kashgar! You +have taken from me the Rajah’s Diamond,” he cried, raising his +hands, “and all, madam, all is at an end between us!” +</p> + +<p> +“Believe me, General Vandeleur,” she replied, “that is one of +the most agreeable speeches that ever I heard from your lips; and since we are +to be ruined, I could almost welcome the change, if it delivers me from you. +You have told me often enough that I married you for your money; let me tell +you now that I always bitterly repented the bargain; and if you were still +marriageable, and had a diamond bigger than your head, I should counsel even my +maid against a union so uninviting and disastrous. As for you, Mr. +Hartley,” she continued, turning on the secretary, “you have +sufficiently exhibited your valuable qualities in this house; we are now +persuaded that you equally lack manhood, sense, and self-respect; and I can see +only one course open for you—to withdraw instanter, and, if possible, +return no more. For your wages you may rank as a creditor in my late +husband’s bankruptcy.” +</p> + +<p> +Harry had scarcely comprehended this insulting address before the General was +down upon him with another. +</p> + +<p> +“And in the meantime,” said that personage, “follow me before +the nearest Inspector of Police. You may impose upon a simple-minded soldier, +sir, but the eye of the law will read your disreputable secret. If I must spend +my old age in poverty through your underhand intriguing with my wife, I mean at +least that you shall not remain unpunished for your pains; and God, sir, will +deny me a very considerable satisfaction if you do not pick oakum from now +until your dying day.” +</p> + +<p> +With that, the General dragged Harry from the apartment, and hurried him +downstairs and along the street to the police-station of the district. +</p> + +<div class="gapspace"> </div> + +<p> +<i>Here</i> (says my Arabian author) <i>ended this deplorable business of the +bandbox</i>. <i>But to the unfortunate Secretary the whole affair was the +beginning of a new and manlier life</i>. <i>The police were easily persuaded of +his innocence</i>; <i>and</i>, <i>after he had given what help he could in the +subsequent investigations</i>, <i>he was even complemented by one of the chiefs +of the detective department on the probity and simplicity of his behaviour</i>. +<i>Several persons interested themselves in one so unfortunate</i>; <i>and soon +after he inherited a sum of money from a maiden aunt in Worcestershire</i>. +<i>With this he married Prudence</i>, <i>and set sail for Bendigo</i>, <i>or +according to another account</i>, <i>for Trincomalee</i>, <i>exceedingly +content</i>, <i>and will the best of prospects</i>. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap07"></a>STORY OF THE YOUNG MAN IN HOLY ORDERS</h3> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">The</span> Reverend Mr. Simon Rolles had distinguished +himself in the Moral Sciences, and was more than usually proficient in the +study of Divinity. His essay “On the Christian Doctrine of the Social +Obligations” obtained for him, at the moment of its production, a certain +celebrity in the University of Oxford; and it was understood in clerical and +learned circles that young Mr. Rolles had in contemplation a considerable +work—a folio, it was said—on the authority of the Fathers of the +Church. These attainments, these ambitious designs, however, were far from +helping him to any preferment; and he was still in quest of his first curacy +when a chance ramble in that part of London, the peaceful and rich aspect of +the garden, a desire for solitude and study, and the cheapness of the lodging, +led him to take up his abode with Mr. Raeburn, the nurseryman of Stockdove +Lane. +</p> + +<p> +It was his habit every afternoon, after he had worked seven or eight hours on +St. Ambrose or St. Chrysostom, to walk for a while in meditation among the +roses. And this was usually one of the most productive moments of his day. But +even a sincere appetite for thought, and the excitement of grave problems +awaiting solution, are not always sufficient to preserve the mind of the +philosopher against the petty shocks and contacts of the world. And when Mr. +Rolles found General Vandeleur’s secretary, ragged and bleeding, in the +company of his landlord; when he saw both change colour and seek to avoid his +questions; and, above all, when the former denied his own identity with the +most unmoved assurance, he speedily forgot the Saints and Fathers in the vulgar +interest of curiosity. +</p> + +<p> +“I cannot be mistaken,” thought he. “That is Mr. Hartley +beyond a doubt. How comes he in such a pickle? why does he deny his name? and +what can be his business with that black-looking ruffian, my landlord?” +</p> + +<p> +As he was thus reflecting, another peculiar circumstance attracted his +attention. The face of Mr. Raeburn appeared at a low window next the door; and, +as chance directed, his eyes met those of Mr. Rolles. The nurseryman seemed +disconcerted, and even alarmed; and immediately after the blind of the +apartment was pulled sharply down. +</p> + +<p> +“This may all be very well,” reflected Mr. Rolles; “it may be +all excellently well; but I confess freely that I do not think so. Suspicious, +underhand, untruthful, fearful of observation—I believe upon my +soul,” he thought, “the pair are plotting some disgraceful +action.” +</p> + +<p> +The detective that there is in all of us awoke and became clamant in the bosom +of Mr. Rolles; and with a brisk, eager step, that bore no resemblance to his +usual gait, he proceeded to make the circuit of the garden. When he came to the +scene of Harry’s escalade, his eye was at once arrested by a broken +rosebush and marks of trampling on the mould. He looked up, and saw scratches +on the brick, and a rag of trouser floating from a broken bottle. This, then, +was the mode of entrance chosen by Mr. Raeburn’s particular friend! It +was thus that General Vandeleur’s secretary came to admire a +flower-garden! The young clergyman whistled softly to himself as he stooped to +examine the ground. He could make out where Harry had landed from his perilous +leap; he recognised the flat foot of Mr. Raeburn where it had sunk deeply in +the soil as he pulled up the Secretary by the collar; nay, on a closer +inspection, he seemed to distinguish the marks of groping fingers, as though +something had been spilt abroad and eagerly collected. +</p> + +<p> +“Upon my word,” he thought, “the thing grows vastly +interesting.” +</p> + +<p> +And just then he caught sight of something almost entirely buried in the earth. +In an instant he had disinterred a dainty morocco case, ornamented and clasped +in gilt. It had been trodden heavily underfoot, and thus escaped the hurried +search of Mr. Raeburn. Mr. Rolles opened the case, and drew a long breath of +almost horrified astonishment; for there lay before him, in a cradle of green +velvet, a diamond of prodigious magnitude and of the finest water. It was of +the bigness of a duck’s egg; beautifully shaped, and without a flaw; and +as the sun shone upon it, it gave forth a lustre like that of electricity, and +seemed to burn in his hand with a thousand internal fires. +</p> + +<p> +He knew little of precious stones; but the Rajah’s Diamond was a wonder +that explained itself; a village child, if he found it, would run screaming for +the nearest cottage; and a savage would prostrate himself in adoration before +so imposing a fetish. The beauty of the stone flattered the young +clergyman’s eyes; the thought of its incalculable value overpowered his +intellect. He knew that what he held in his hand was worth more than many +years’ purchase of an archiepiscopal see; that it would build cathedrals +more stately than Ely or Cologne; that he who possessed it was set free for +ever from the primal curse, and might follow his own inclinations without +concern or hurry, without let or hindrance. And as he suddenly turned it, the +rays leaped forth again with renewed brilliancy, and seemed to pierce his very +heart. +</p> + +<p> +Decisive actions are often taken in a moment and without any conscious +deliverance from the rational parts of man. So it was now with Mr. Rolles. He +glanced hurriedly round; beheld, like Mr. Raeburn before him, nothing but the +sunlit flower-garden, the tall tree-tops, and the house with blinded windows; +and in a trice he had shut the case, thrust it into his pocket, and was +hastening to his study with the speed of guilt. +</p> + +<p> +The Reverend Simon Rolles had stolen the Rajah’s Diamond. +</p> + +<p> +Early in the afternoon the police arrived with Harry Hartley. The nurseryman, +who was beside himself with terror, readily discovered his hoard; and the +jewels were identified and inventoried in the presence of the Secretary. As for +Mr. Rolles, he showed himself in a most obliging temper, communicated what he +knew with freedom, and professed regret that he could do no more to help the +officers in their duty. +</p> + +<p> +“Still,” he added, “I suppose your business is nearly at an +end.” +</p> + +<p> +“By no means,” replied the man from Scotland Yard; and he narrated +the second robbery of which Harry had been the immediate victim, and gave the +young clergyman a description of the more important jewels that were still not +found, dilating particularly on the Rajah’s Diamond. +</p> + +<p> +“It must be worth a fortune,” observed Mr. Rolles. +</p> + +<p> +“Ten fortunes—twenty fortunes,” cried the officer. +</p> + +<p> +“The more it is worth,” remarked Simon shrewdly, “the more +difficult it must be to sell. Such a thing has a physiognomy not to be +disguised, and I should fancy a man might as easily negotiate St. Paul’s +Cathedral.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, truly!” said the officer; “but if the thief be a man of +any intelligence, he will cut it into three or four, and there will be still +enough to make him rich.” +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you,” said the clergyman. “You cannot imagine how much +your conversation interests me.” +</p> + +<p> +Whereupon the functionary admitted that they knew many strange things in his +profession, and immediately after took his leave. +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Rolles regained his apartment. It seemed smaller and barer than usual; the +materials for his great work had never presented so little interest; and he +looked upon his library with the eye of scorn. He took down, volume by volume, +several Fathers of the Church, and glanced them through; but they contained +nothing to his purpose. +</p> + +<p> +“These old gentlemen,” thought he, “are no doubt very +valuable writers, but they seem to me conspicuously ignorant of life. Here am +I, with learning enough to be a Bishop, and I positively do not know how to +dispose of a stolen diamond. I glean a hint from a common policeman, and, with +all my folios, I cannot so much as put it into execution. This inspires me with +very low ideas of University training.” +</p> + +<p> +Herewith he kicked over his book-shelf and, putting on his hat, hastened from +the house to the club of which he was a member. In such a place of mundane +resort he hoped to find some man of good counsel and a shrewd experience in +life. In the reading-room he saw many of the country clergy and an Archdeacon; +there were three journalists and a writer upon the Higher Metaphysic, playing +pool; and at dinner only the raff of ordinary club frequenters showed their +commonplace and obliterated countenances. None of these, thought Mr. Rolles, +would know more on dangerous topics than he knew himself; none of them were fit +to give him guidance in his present strait. At length in the smoking-room, up +many weary stairs, he hit upon a gentleman of somewhat portly build and dressed +with conspicuous plainness. He was smoking a cigar and reading the +<i>Fortnightly Review</i>; his face was singularly free from all sign of +preoccupation or fatigue; and there was something in his air which seemed to +invite confidence and to expect submission. The more the young clergyman +scrutinised his features, the more he was convinced that he had fallen on one +capable of giving pertinent advice. +</p> + +<p> +“Sir,” said he, “you will excuse my abruptness; but I judge +you from your appearance to be pre-eminently a man of the world.” +</p> + +<p> +“I have indeed considerable claims to that distinction,” replied +the stranger, laying aside his magazine with a look of mingled amusement and +surprise. +</p> + +<p> +“I, sir,” continued the Curate, “am a recluse, a student, a +creature of ink-bottles and patristic folios. A recent event has brought my +folly vividly before my eyes, and I desire to instruct myself in life. By +life,” he added, “I do not mean Thackeray’s novels; but the +crimes and secret possibilities of our society, and the principles of wise +conduct among exceptional events. I am a patient reader; can the thing be +learnt in books?” +</p> + +<p> +“You put me in a difficulty,” said the stranger. “I confess I +have no great notion of the use of books, except to amuse a railway journey; +although, I believe, there are some very exact treatises on astronomy, the use +of the globes, agriculture, and the art of making paper flowers. Upon the less +apparent provinces of life I fear you will find nothing truthful. Yet +stay,” he added, “have you read Gaboriau?” +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Rolles admitted he had never even heard the name. +</p> + +<p> +“You may gather some notions from Gaboriau,” resumed the stranger. +“He is at least suggestive; and as he is an author much studied by Prince +Bismarck, you will, at the worst, lose your time in good society.” +</p> + +<p> +“Sir,” said the Curate, “I am infinitely obliged by your +politeness.” +</p> + +<p> +“You have already more than repaid me,” returned the other. +</p> + +<p> +“How?” inquired Simon. +</p> + +<p> +“By the novelty of your request,” replied the gentleman; and with a +polite gesture, as though to ask permission, he resumed the study of the +<i>Fortnightly Review</i>. +</p> + +<p> +On his way home Mr. Rolles purchased a work on precious stones and several of +Gaboriau’s novels. These last he eagerly skimmed until an advanced hour +in the morning; but although they introduced him to many new ideas, he could +nowhere discover what to do with a stolen diamond. He was annoyed, moreover, to +find the information scattered amongst romantic story-telling, instead of +soberly set forth after the manner of a manual; and he concluded that, even if +the writer had thought much upon these subjects, he was totally lacking in +educational method. For the character and attainments of Lecoq, however, he was +unable to contain his admiration. +</p> + +<p> +“He was truly a great creature,” ruminated Mr. Rolles. “He +knew the world as I know Paley’s Evidences. There was nothing that he +could not carry to a termination with his own hand, and against the largest +odds. Heavens!” he broke out suddenly, “is not this the lesson? +Must I not learn to cut diamonds for myself?” +</p> + +<p> +It seemed to him as if he had sailed at once out of his perplexities; he +remembered that he knew a jeweller, one B. Macculloch, in Edinburgh, who would +be glad to put him in the way of the necessary training; a few months, perhaps +a few years, of sordid toil, and he would be sufficiently expert to divide and +sufficiently cunning to dispose with advantage of the Rajah’s Diamond. +That done, he might return to pursue his researches at leisure, a wealthy and +luxurious student, envied and respected by all. Golden visions attended him +through his slumber, and he awoke refreshed and light-hearted with the morning +sun. +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Raeburn’s house was on that day to be closed by the police, and this +afforded a pretext for his departure. He cheerfully prepared his baggage, +transported it to King’s Cross, where he left it in the cloak-room, and +returned to the club to while away the afternoon and dine. +</p> + +<p> +“If you dine here to-day, Rolles,” observed an acquaintance, +“you may see two of the most remarkable men in England—Prince +Florizel of Bohemia, and old Jack Vandeleur.” +</p> + +<p> +“I have heard of the Prince,” replied Mr. Rolles; “and +General Vandeleur I have even met in society.” +</p> + +<p> +“General Vandeleur is an ass!” returned the other. “This is +his brother John, the biggest adventurer, the best judge of precious stones, +and one of the most acute diplomatists in Europe. Have you never heard of his +duel with the Duc de Val d’Orge? of his exploits and atrocities when he +was Dictator of Paraguay? of his dexterity in recovering Sir Samuel +Levi’s jewellery? nor of his services in the Indian Mutiny—services +by which the Government profited, but which the Government dared not recognise? +You make me wonder what we mean by fame, or even by infamy; for Jack Vandeleur +has prodigious claims to both. Run downstairs,” he continued, “take +a table near them, and keep your ears open. You will hear some strange talk, or +I am much misled.” +</p> + +<p> +“But how shall I know them?” inquired the clergyman. +</p> + +<p> +“Know them!” cried his friend; “why, the Prince is the finest +gentleman in Europe, the only living creature who looks like a king; and as for +Jack Vandeleur, if you can imagine Ulysses at seventy years of age, and with a +sabre-cut across his face, you have the man before you! Know them, indeed! Why, +you could pick either of them out of a Derby day!” +</p> + +<p> +Rolles eagerly hurried to the dining-room. It was as his friend had asserted; +it was impossible to mistake the pair in question. Old John Vandeleur was of a +remarkable force of body, and obviously broken to the most difficult exercises. +He had neither the carriage of a swordsman, nor of a sailor, nor yet of one +much inured to the saddle; but something made up of all these, and the result +and expression of many different habits and dexterities. His features were bold +and aquiline; his expression arrogant and predatory; his whole appearance that +of a swift, violent, unscrupulous man of action; and his copious white hair and +the deep sabre-cut that traversed his nose and temple added a note of savagery +to a head already remarkable and menacing in itself. +</p> + +<p> +In his companion, the Prince of Bohemia, Mr. Rolles was astonished to recognise +the gentleman who had recommended him the study of Gaboriau. Doubtless Prince +Florizel, who rarely visited the club, of which, as of most others, he was an +honorary member, had been waiting for John Vandeleur when Simon accosted him on +the previous evening. +</p> + +<p> +The other diners had modestly retired into the angles of the room, and left the +distinguished pair in a certain isolation, but the young clergyman was +unrestrained by any sentiment of awe, and, marching boldly up, took his place +at the nearest table. +</p> + +<p> +The conversation was, indeed, new to the student’s ears. The ex-Dictator +of Paraguay stated many extraordinary experiences in different quarters of the +world; and the Prince supplied a commentary which, to a man of thought, was +even more interesting than the events themselves. Two forms of experience were +thus brought together and laid before the young clergyman; and he did not know +which to admire the most—the desperate actor or the skilled expert in +life; the man who spoke boldly of his own deeds and perils, or the man who +seemed, like a god, to know all things and to have suffered nothing. The manner +of each aptly fitted with his part in the discourse. The Dictator indulged in +brutalities alike of speech and gesture; his hand opened and shut and fell +roughly on the table; and his voice was loud and heavy. The Prince, on the +other hand, seemed the very type of urbane docility and quiet; the least +movement, the least inflection, had with him a weightier significance than all +the shouts and pantomime of his companion; and if ever, as must frequently have +been the case, he described some experience personal to himself, it was so +aptly dissimulated as to pass unnoticed with the rest. +</p> + +<p> +At length the talk wandered on to the late robberies and the Rajah’s +Diamond. +</p> + +<p> +“That diamond would be better in the sea,” observed Prince +Florizel. +</p> + +<p> +“As a Vandeleur,” replied the Dictator, “your Highness may +imagine my dissent.” +</p> + +<p> +“I speak on grounds of public policy,” pursued the Prince. +“Jewels so valuable should be reserved for the collection of a Prince or +the treasury of a great nation. To hand them about among the common sort of men +is to set a price on Virtue’s head; and if the Rajah of Kashgar—a +Prince, I understand, of great enlightenment—desired vengeance upon the +men of Europe, he could hardly have gone more efficaciously about his purpose +than by sending us this apple of discord. There is no honesty too robust for +such a trial. I myself, who have many duties and many privileges of my +own—I myself, Mr. Vandeleur, could scarce handle the intoxicating crystal +and be safe. As for you, who are a diamond hunter by taste and profession, I do +not believe there is a crime in the calendar you would not perpetrate—I +do not believe you have a friend in the world whom you would not eagerly +betray—I do not know if you have a family, but if you have I declare you +would sacrifice your children—and all this for what? Not to be richer, +nor to have more comforts or more respect, but simply to call this diamond +yours for a year or two until you die, and now and again to open a safe and +look at it as one looks at a picture.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is true,” replied Vandeleur. “I have hunted most things, +from men and women down to mosquitos; I have dived for coral; I have followed +both whales and tigers; and a diamond is the tallest quarry of the lot. It has +beauty and worth; it alone can properly reward the ardours of the chase. At +this moment, as your Highness may fancy, I am upon the trail; I have a sure +knack, a wide experience; I know every stone of price in my brother’s +collection as a shepherd knows his sheep; and I wish I may die if I do not +recover them every one!” +</p> + +<p> +“Sir Thomas Vandeleur will have great cause to thank you,” said the +Prince. +</p> + +<p> +“I am not so sure,” returned the Dictator, with a laugh. “One +of the Vandeleurs will. Thomas or John—Peter or Paul—we are all +apostles.” +</p> + +<p> +“I did not catch your observation,” said the Prince with some +disgust. +</p> + +<p> +And at the same moment the waiter informed Mr. Vandeleur that his cab was at +the door. +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Rolles glanced at the clock, and saw that he also must be moving; and the +coincidence struck him sharply and unpleasantly, for he desired to see no more +of the diamond hunter. +</p> + +<p> +Much study having somewhat shaken the young man’s nerves, he was in the +habit of travelling in the most luxurious manner; and for the present journey +he had taken a sofa in the sleeping carriage. +</p> + +<p> +“You will be very comfortable,” said the guard; “there is no +one in your compartment, and only one old gentleman in the other end.” +</p> + +<p> +It was close upon the hour, and the tickets were being examined, when Mr. +Rolles beheld this other fellow-passenger ushered by several porters into his +place; certainly, there was not another man in the world whom he would not have +preferred—for it was old John Vandeleur, the ex-Dictator. +</p> + +<p> +The sleeping carriages on the Great Northern line were divided into three +compartments—one at each end for travellers, and one in the centre fitted +with the conveniences of a lavatory. A door running in grooves separated each +of the others from the lavatory; but as there were neither bolts nor locks, the +whole suite was practically common ground. +</p> + +<p> +When Mr. Rolles had studied his position, he perceived himself without defence. +If the Dictator chose to pay him a visit in the course of the night, he could +do no less than receive it; he had no means of fortification, and lay open to +attack as if he had been lying in the fields. This situation caused him some +agony of mind. He recalled with alarm the boastful statements of his +fellow-traveller across the dining-table, and the professions of immorality +which he had heard him offering to the disgusted Prince. Some persons, he +remembered to have read, are endowed with a singular quickness of perception +for the neighbourhood of precious metals; through walls and even at +considerable distances they are said to divine the presence of gold. Might it +not be the same with diamonds? he wondered; and if so, who was more likely to +enjoy this transcendental sense than the person who gloried in the appellation +of the Diamond Hunter? From such a man he recognised that he had everything to +fear, and longed eagerly for the arrival of the day. +</p> + +<p> +In the meantime he neglected no precaution, concealed his diamond in the most +internal pocket of a system of great-coats, and devoutly recommended himself to +the care of Providence. +</p> + +<p> +The train pursued its usual even and rapid course; and nearly half the journey +had been accomplished before slumber began to triumph over uneasiness in the +breast of Mr. Rolles. For some time he resisted its influence; but it grew upon +him more and more, and a little before York he was fain to stretch himself upon +one of the couches and suffer his eyes to close; and almost at the same instant +consciousness deserted the young clergyman. His last thought was of his +terrifying neighbour. +</p> + +<p> +When he awoke it was still pitch dark, except for the flicker of the veiled +lamp; and the continual roaring and oscillation testified to the unrelaxed +velocity of the train. He sat upright in a panic, for he had been tormented by +the most uneasy dreams; it was some seconds before he recovered his +self-command; and even after he had resumed a recumbent attitude sleep +continued to flee him, and he lay awake with his brain in a state of violent +agitation, and his eyes fixed upon the lavatory door. He pulled his clerical +felt hat over his brow still farther to shield him from the light; and he +adopted the usual expedients, such as counting a thousand or banishing thought, +by which experienced invalids are accustomed to woo the approach of sleep. In +the case of Mr. Rolles they proved one and all vain; he was harassed by a dozen +different anxieties—the old man in the other end of the carriage haunted +him in the most alarming shapes; and in whatever attitude he chose to lie the +diamond in his pocket occasioned him a sensible physical distress. It burned, +it was too large, it bruised his ribs; and there were infinitesimal fractions +of a second in which he had half a mind to throw it from the window. +</p> + +<p> +While he was thus lying, a strange incident took place. +</p> + +<p> +The sliding-door into the lavatory stirred a little, and then a little more, +and was finally drawn back for the space of about twenty inches. The lamp in +the lavatory was unshaded, and in the lighted aperture thus disclosed, Mr. +Rolles could see the head of Mr. Vandeleur in an attitude of deep attention. He +was conscious that the gaze of the Dictator rested intently on his own face; +and the instinct of self-preservation moved him to hold his breath, to refrain +from the least movement, and keeping his eyes lowered, to watch his visitor +from underneath the lashes. After about a moment, the head was withdrawn and +the door of the lavatory replaced. +</p> + +<p> +The Dictator had not come to attack, but to observe; his action was not that of +a man threatening another, but that of a man who was himself threatened; if Mr. +Rolles was afraid of him, it appeared that he, in his turn, was not quite easy +on the score of Mr. Rolles. He had come, it would seem, to make sure that his +only fellow-traveller was asleep; and, when satisfied on that point, he had at +once withdrawn. +</p> + +<p> +The clergyman leaped to his feet. The extreme of terror had given place to a +reaction of foolhardy daring. He reflected that the rattle of the flying train +concealed all other sounds, and determined, come what might, to return the +visit he had just received. Divesting himself of his cloak, which might have +interfered with the freedom of his action, he entered the lavatory and paused +to listen. As he had expected, there was nothing to be heard above the roar of +the train’s progress; and laying his hand on the door at the farther +side, he proceeded cautiously to draw it back for about six inches. Then he +stopped, and could not contain an ejaculation of surprise. +</p> + +<p> +John Vandeleur wore a fur travelling cap with lappets to protect his ears; and +this may have combined with the sound of the express to keep him in ignorance +of what was going forward. It is certain, at least, that he did not raise his +head, but continued without interruption to pursue his strange employment. +Between his feet stood an open hat-box; in one hand he held the sleeve of his +sealskin great-coat; in the other a formidable knife, with which he had just +slit up the lining of the sleeve. Mr. Rolles had read of persons carrying money +in a belt; and as he had no acquaintance with any but cricket-belts, he had +never been able rightly to conceive how this was managed. But here was a +stranger thing before his eyes; for John Vandeleur, it appeared, carried +diamonds in the lining of his sleeve; and even as the young clergyman gazed, he +could see one glittering brilliant drop after another into the hat-box. +</p> + +<p> +He stood riveted to the spot, following this unusual business with his eyes. +The diamonds were, for the most part, small, and not easily distinguishable +either in shape or fire. Suddenly the Dictator appeared to find a difficulty; +he employed both hands and stooped over his task; but it was not until after +considerable manoeuvring that he extricated a large tiara of diamonds from the +lining, and held it up for some seconds’ examination before he placed it +with the others in the hat-box. The tiara was a ray of light to Mr. Rolles; he +immediately recognised it for a part of the treasure stolen from Harry Hartley +by the loiterer. There was no room for mistake; it was exactly as the detective +had described it; there were the ruby stars, with a great emerald in the +centre; there were the interlacing crescents; and there were the pear-shaped +pendants, each a single stone, which gave a special value to Lady +Vandeleur’s tiara. +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Rolles was hugely relieved. The Dictator was as deeply in the affair as he +was; neither could tell tales upon the other. In the first glow of happiness, +the clergyman suffered a deep sigh to escape him; and as his bosom had become +choked and his throat dry during his previous suspense, the sigh was followed +by a cough. +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Vandeleur looked up; his face contracted with the blackest and most deadly +passion; his eyes opened widely, and his under jaw dropped in an astonishment +that was upon the brink of fury. By an instinctive movement he had covered the +hat-box with the coat. For half a minute the two men stared upon each other in +silence. It was not a long interval, but it sufficed for Mr. Rolles; he was one +of those who think swiftly on dangerous occasions; he decided on a course of +action of a singularly daring nature; and although he felt he was setting his +life upon the hazard, he was the first to break silence. +</p> + +<p> +“I beg your pardon,” said he. +</p> + +<p> +The Dictator shivered slightly, and when he spoke his voice was hoarse. +</p> + +<p> +“What do you want here?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“I take a particular interest in diamonds,” replied Mr. Rolles, +with an air of perfect self-possession. “Two connoisseurs should be +acquainted. I have here a trifle of my own which may perhaps serve for an +introduction.” +</p> + +<p> +And so saying, he quietly took the case from his pocket, showed the +Rajah’s Diamond to the Dictator for an instant, and replaced it in +security. +</p> + +<p> +“It was once your brother’s,” he added. +</p> + +<p> +John Vandeleur continued to regard him with a look of almost painful amazement; +but he neither spoke nor moved. +</p> + +<p> +“I was pleased to observe,” resumed the young man, “that we +have gems from the same collection.” +</p> + +<p> +The Dictator’s surprise overpowered him. +</p> + +<p> +“I beg your pardon,” he said; “I begin to perceive that I am +growing old! I am positively not prepared for little incidents like this. But +set my mind at rest upon one point: do my eyes deceive me, or are you indeed a +parson?” +</p> + +<p> +“I am in holy orders,” answered Mr. Rolles. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” cried the other, “as long as I live I will never hear +another word against the cloth!” +</p> + +<p> +“You flatter me,” said Mr. Rolles. +</p> + +<p> +“Pardon me,” replied Vandeleur; “pardon me, young man. You +are no coward, but it still remains to be seen whether you are not the worst of +fools. Perhaps,” he continued, leaning back upon his seat, “perhaps +you would oblige me with a few particulars. I must suppose you had some object +in the stupefying impudence of your proceedings, and I confess I have a +curiosity to know it.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is very simple,” replied the clergyman; “it proceeds from +my great inexperience of life.” +</p> + +<p> +“I shall be glad to be persuaded,” answered Vandeleur. +</p> + +<p> +Whereupon Mr. Rolles told him the whole story of his connection with the +Rajah’s Diamond, from the time he found it in Raeburn’s garden to +the time when he left London in the Flying Scotchman. He added a brief sketch +of his feelings and thoughts during the journey, and concluded in these +words:— +</p> + +<p> +“When I recognised the tiara I knew we were in the same attitude towards +Society, and this inspired me with a hope, which I trust you will say was not +ill-founded, that you might become in some sense my partner in the difficulties +and, of course, the profits of my situation. To one of your special knowledge +and obviously great experience the negotiation of the diamond would give but +little trouble, while to me it was a matter of impossibility. On the other +part, I judged that I might lose nearly as much by cutting the diamond, and +that not improbably with an unskilful hand, as might enable me to pay you with +proper generosity for your assistance. The subject was a delicate one to +broach; and perhaps I fell short in delicacy. But I must ask you to remember +that for me the situation was a new one, and I was entirely unacquainted with +the etiquette in use. I believe without vanity that I could have married or +baptized you in a very acceptable manner; but every man has his own aptitudes, +and this sort of bargain was not among the list of my accomplishments.” +</p> + +<p> +“I do not wish to flatter you,” replied Vandeleur; “but upon +my word, you have an unusual disposition for a life of crime. You have more +accomplishments than you imagine; and though I have encountered a number of +rogues in different quarters of the world, I never met with one so unblushing +as yourself. Cheer up, Mr. Rolles, you are in the right profession at last! As +for helping you, you may command me as you will. I have only a day’s +business in Edinburgh on a little matter for my brother; and once that is +concluded, I return to Paris, where I usually reside. If you please, you may +accompany me thither. And before the end of a month I believe I shall have +brought your little business to a satisfactory conclusion.” +</p> + +<div class="gapspace"> </div> + +<p> +(<i>At this point</i>, <i>contrary to all the canons of his art</i>, <i>our +Arabian author breaks off the</i> <span class="smcap">Story of the Young Man in +Holy Orders</span>. <i>I regret and condemn such practices</i>; <i>but I must +follow my original</i>, <i>and refer the reader for the conclusion of Mr. +Rolles’ adventures to the next number of the cycle</i>, <i>the</i> <span +class="smcap">Story of the House with the Green Blinds</span>.) +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap08"></a>STORY OF THE HOUSE WITH THE GREEN BLINDS</h3> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">Francis Scrymgeour</span>, a clerk in the Bank of Scotland +at Edinburgh, had attained the age of twenty-five in a sphere of quiet, +creditable, and domestic life. His mother died while he was young; but his +father, a man of sense and probity, had given him an excellent education at +school, and brought him up at home to orderly and frugal habits. Francis, who +was of a docile and affectionate disposition, profited by these advantages with +zeal, and devoted himself heart and soul to his employment. A walk upon +Saturday afternoon, an occasional dinner with members of his family, and a +yearly tour of a fortnight in the Highlands or even on the continent of Europe, +were his principal distractions, and, he grew rapidly in favour with his +superiors, and enjoyed already a salary of nearly two hundred pounds a year, +with the prospect of an ultimate advance to almost double that amount. Few +young men were more contented, few more willing and laborious than Francis +Scrymgeour. Sometimes at night, when he had read the daily paper, he would play +upon the flute to amuse his father, for whose qualities he entertained a great +respect. +</p> + +<p> +One day he received a note from a well-known firm of Writers to the Signet, +requesting the favour of an immediate interview with him. The letter was marked +“Private and Confidential,” and had been addressed to him at the +bank, instead of at home—two unusual circumstances which made him obey +the summons with the more alacrity. The senior member of the firm, a man of +much austerity of manner, made him gravely welcome, requested him to take a +seat, and proceeded to explain the matter in hand in the picked expressions of +a veteran man of business. A person, who must remain nameless, but of whom the +lawyer had every reason to think well—a man, in short, of some station in +the country—desired to make Francis an annual allowance of five hundred +pounds. The capital was to be placed under the control of the lawyer’s +firm and two trustees who must also remain anonymous. There were conditions +annexed to this liberality, but he was of opinion that his new client would +find nothing either excessive or dishonourable in the terms; and he repeated +these two words with emphasis, as though he desired to commit himself to +nothing more. +</p> + +<p> +Francis asked their nature. +</p> + +<p> +“The conditions,” said the Writer to the Signet, “are, as I +have twice remarked, neither dishonourable nor excessive. At the same time I +cannot conceal from you that they are most unusual. Indeed, the whole case is +very much out of our way; and I should certainly have refused it had it not +been for the reputation of the gentleman who entrusted it to my care, and, let +me add, Mr. Scrymgeour, the interest I have been led to take in yourself by +many complimentary and, I have no doubt, well-deserved reports.” +</p> + +<p> +Francis entreated him to be more specific. +</p> + +<p> +“You cannot picture my uneasiness as to these conditions,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +“They are two,” replied the lawyer, “only two; and the sum, +as you will remember, is five hundred a-year—and unburdened, I forgot to +add, unburdened.” +</p> + +<p> +And the lawyer raised his eyebrows at him with solemn gusto. +</p> + +<p> +“The first,” he resumed, “is of remarkable simplicity. You +must be in Paris by the afternoon of Sunday, the 15th; there you will find, at +the box-office of the Comédie Française, a ticket for admission taken in +your name and waiting you. You are requested to sit out the whole performance +in the seat provided, and that is all.” +</p> + +<p> +“I should certainly have preferred a week-day,” replied Francis. +“ But, after all, once in a way—” +</p> + +<p> +“And in Paris, my dear sir,” added the lawyer soothingly. “I +believe I am something of a precisian myself, but upon such a consideration, +and in Paris, I should not hesitate an instant.” +</p> + +<p> +And the pair laughed pleasantly together. +</p> + +<p> +“The other is of more importance,” continued the Writer to the +Signet. “It regards your marriage. My client, taking a deep interest in +your welfare, desires to advise you absolutely in the choice of a wife. +Absolutely, you understand,” he repeated. +</p> + +<p> +“Let us be more explicit, if you please,” returned Francis. +“Am I to marry any one, maid or widow, black or white, whom this +invisible person chooses to propose?” +</p> + +<p> +“I was to assure you that suitability of age and position should be a +principle with your benefactor,” replied the lawyer. “As to race, I +confess the difficulty had not occurred to me, and I failed to inquire; but if +you like I will make a note of it at once, and advise you on the earliest +opportunity.” +</p> + +<p> +“Sir,” said Francis, “it remains to be seen whether this +whole affair is not a most unworthy fraud. The circumstances are +inexplicable—I had almost said incredible; and until I see a little more +daylight, and some plausible motive, I confess I should be very sorry to put a +hand to the transaction. I appeal to you in this difficulty for information. I +must learn what is at the bottom of it all. If you do not know, cannot guess, +or are not at liberty to tell me, I shall take my hat and go back to my bank as +came.” +</p> + +<p> +“I do not know,” answered the lawyer, “but I have an +excellent guess. Your father, and no one else, is at the root of this +apparently unnatural business.” +</p> + +<p> +“My father!” cried Francis, in extreme disdain. “Worthy man, +I know every thought of his mind, every penny of his fortune!” +</p> + +<p> +“You misinterpret my words,” said the lawyer. “I do not refer +to Mr. Scrymgeour, senior; for he is not your father. When he and his wife came +to Edinburgh, you were already nearly one year old, and you had not yet been +three months in their care. The secret has been well kept; but such is the +fact. Your father is unknown, and I say again that I believe him to be the +original of the offers I am charged at present to transmit to you.” +</p> + +<p> +It would be impossible to exaggerate the astonishment of Francis Scrymgeour at +this unexpected information. He pled this confusion to the lawyer. +</p> + +<p> +“Sir,” said he, “after a piece of news so startling, you must +grant me some hours for thought. You shall know this evening what conclusion I +have reached.” +</p> + +<p> +The lawyer commended his prudence; and Francis, excusing himself upon some +pretext at the bank, took a long walk into the country, and fully considered +the different steps and aspects of the case. A pleasant sense of his own +importance rendered him the more deliberate: but the issue was from the first +not doubtful. His whole carnal man leaned irresistibly towards the five hundred +a year, and the strange conditions with which it was burdened; he discovered in +his heart an invincible repugnance to the name of Scrymgeour, which he had +never hitherto disliked; he began to despise the narrow and unromantic +interests of his former life; and when once his mind was fairly made up, he +walked with a new feeling of strength and freedom, and nourished himself with +the gayest anticipations. +</p> + +<p> +He said but a word to the lawyer, and immediately received a cheque for two +quarters’ arrears; for the allowance was ante-dated from the first of +January. With this in his pocket, he walked home. The flat in Scotland Street +looked mean in his eyes; his nostrils, for the first time, rebelled against the +odour of broth; and he observed little defects of manner in his adoptive father +which filled him with surprise and almost with disgust. The next day, he +determined, should see him on his way to Paris. +</p> + +<p> +In that city, where he arrived long before the appointed date, he put up at a +modest hotel frequented by English and Italians, and devoted himself to +improvement in the French tongue; for this purpose he had a master twice a +week, entered into conversation with loiterers in the Champs Elysées, and +nightly frequented the theatre. He had his whole toilette fashionably renewed; +and was shaved and had his hair dressed every morning by a barber in a +neighbouring street. This gave him something of a foreign air, and seemed to +wipe off the reproach of his past years. +</p> + +<p> +At length, on the Saturday afternoon, he betook himself to the box-office of +the theatre in the Rue Richelieu. No sooner had he mentioned his name than the +clerk produced the order in an envelope of which the address was scarcely dry. +</p> + +<p> +“It has been taken this moment,” said the clerk. +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed!” said Francis. “May I ask what the gentleman was +like?” +</p> + +<p> +“Your friend is easy to describe,” replied the official. “He +is old and strong and beautiful, with white hair and a sabre-cut across his +face. You cannot fail to recognise so marked a person.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, indeed,” returned Francis; “and I thank you for your +politeness.” +</p> + +<p> +“He cannot yet be far distant,” added the clerk. “If you make +haste you might still overtake him.” +</p> + +<p> +Francis did not wait to be twice told; he ran precipitately from the theatre +into the middle of the street and looked in all directions. More than one +white-haired man was within sight; but though he overtook each of them in +succession, all wanted the sabre-cut. For nearly half-an-hour he tried one +street after another in the neighbourhood, until at length, recognising the +folly of continued search, he started on a walk to compose his agitated +feelings; for this proximity of an encounter with him to whom he could not +doubt he owed the day had profoundly moved the young man. +</p> + +<p> +It chanced that his way lay up the Rue Drouot and thence up the Rue des +Martyrs; and chance, in this case, served him better than all the forethought +in the world. For on the outer boulevard he saw two men in earnest colloquy +upon a seat. One was dark, young, and handsome, secularly dressed, but with an +indelible clerical stamp; the other answered in every particular to the +description given him by the clerk. Francis felt his heart beat high in his +bosom; he knew he was now about to hear the voice of his father; and making a +wide circuit, he noiselessly took his place behind the couple in question, who +were too much interested in their talk to observe much else. As Francis had +expected, the conversation was conducted in the English language. +</p> + +<p> +“Your suspicions begin to annoy me, Rolles,” said the older man. +“I tell you I am doing my utmost; a man cannot lay his hand on millions +in a moment. Have I not taken you up, a mere stranger, out of pure good-will? +Are you not living largely on my bounty?” +</p> + +<p> +“On your advances, Mr. Vandeleur,” corrected the other. +</p> + +<p> +“Advances, if you choose; and interest instead of goodwill, if you prefer +it,” returned Vandeleur angrily. “I am not here to pick +expressions. Business is business; and your business, let me remind you, is too +muddy for such airs. Trust me, or leave me alone and find some one else; but +let us have an end, for God’s sake, of your jeremiads.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am beginning to learn the world,” replied the other, “and +I see that you have every reason to play me false, and not one to deal +honestly. I am not here to pick expressions either; you wish the diamond for +yourself; you know you do—you dare not deny it. Have you not already +forged my name, and searched my lodging in my absence? I understand the cause +of your delays; you are lying in wait; you are the diamond hunter, forsooth; +and sooner or later, by fair means or foul, you’ll lay your hands upon +it. I tell you, it must stop; push me much further and I promise you a +surprise.” +</p> + +<p> +“It does not become you to use threats,” returned Vandeleur. +“Two can play at that. My brother is here in Paris; the police are on the +alert; and if you persist in wearying me with your caterwauling, I will arrange +a little astonishment for you, Mr. Rolles. But mine shall be once and for all. +Do you understand, or would you prefer me to tell it you in Hebrew? There is an +end to all things, and you have come to the end of my patience. Tuesday, at +seven; not a day, not an hour sooner, not the least part of a second, if it +were to save your life. And if you do not choose to wait, you may go to the +bottomless pit for me, and welcome.” +</p> + +<p> +And so saying, the Dictator arose from the bench, and marched off in the +direction of Montmartre, shaking his head and swinging his cane with a most +furious air; while his companion remained where he was, in an attitude of great +dejection. +</p> + +<p> +Francis was at the pitch of surprise and horror; his sentiments had been +shocked to the last degree; the hopeful tenderness with which he had taken his +place upon the bench was transformed into repulsion and despair; old Mr. +Scrymgeour, he reflected, was a far more kindly and creditable parent than this +dangerous and violent intriguer; but he retained his presence of mind, and +suffered not a moment to elapse before he was on the trail of the Dictator. +</p> + +<p> +That gentleman’s fury carried him forward at a brisk pace, and he was so +completely occupied in his angry thoughts that he never so much as cast a look +behind him till he reached his own door. +</p> + +<p> +His house stood high up in the Rue Lepic, commanding a view of all Paris and +enjoying the pure air of the heights. It was two storeys high, with green +blinds and shutters; and all the windows looking on the street were +hermetically closed. Tops of trees showed over the high garden wall, and the +wall was protected by <i>chevaux-de-frise</i>. The Dictator paused a moment +while he searched his pocket for a key; and then, opening a gate, disappeared +within the enclosure. +</p> + +<p> +Francis looked about him; the neighbourhood was very lonely, the house isolated +in its garden. It seemed as if his observation must here come to an abrupt end. +A second glance, however, showed him a tall house next door presenting a gable +to the garden, and in this gable a single window. He passed to the front and +saw a ticket offering unfurnished lodgings by the month; and, on inquiry, the +room which commanded the Dictator’s garden proved to be one of those to +let. Francis did not hesitate a moment; he took the room, paid an advance upon +the rent, and returned to his hotel to seek his baggage. +</p> + +<p> +The old man with the sabre-cut might or might not be his father; he might or he +might not be upon the true scent; but he was certainly on the edge of an +exciting mystery, and he promised himself that he would not relax his +observation until he had got to the bottom of the secret. +</p> + +<p> +From the window of his new apartment Francis Scrymgeour commanded a complete +view into the garden of the house with the green blinds. Immediately below him +a very comely chestnut with wide boughs sheltered a pair of rustic tables where +people might dine in the height of summer. On all sides save one a dense +vegetation concealed the soil; but there, between the tables and the house, he +saw a patch of gravel walk leading from the verandah to the garden-gate. +Studying the place from between the boards of the Venetian shutters, which he +durst not open for fear of attracting attention, Francis observed but little to +indicate the manners of the inhabitants, and that little argued no more than a +close reserve and a taste for solitude. The garden was conventual, the house +had the air of a prison. The green blinds were all drawn down upon the outside; +the door into the verandah was closed; the garden, as far as he could see it, +was left entirely to itself in the evening sunshine. A modest curl of smoke +from a single chimney alone testified to the presence of living people. +</p> + +<p> +In order that he might not be entirely idle, and to give a certain colour to +his way of life, Francis had purchased Euclid’s Geometry in French, which +he set himself to copy and translate on the top of his portmanteau and seated +on the floor against the wall; for he was equally without chair or table. From +time to time he would rise and cast a glance into the enclosure of the house +with the green blinds; but the windows remained obstinately closed and the +garden empty. +</p> + +<p> +Only late in the evening did anything occur to reward his continued attention. +Between nine and ten the sharp tinkle of a bell aroused him from a fit of +dozing; and he sprang to his observatory in time to hear an important noise of +locks being opened and bars removed, and to see Mr. Vandeleur, carrying a +lantern and clothed in a flowing robe of black velvet with a skull-cap to +match, issue from under the verandah and proceed leisurely towards the garden +gate. The sound of bolts and bars was then repeated; and a moment after Francis +perceived the Dictator escorting into the house, in the mobile light of the +lantern, an individual of the lowest and most despicable appearance. +</p> + +<p> +Half-an-hour afterwards the visitor was reconducted to the street; and Mr. +Vandeleur, setting his light upon one of the rustic tables, finished a cigar +with great deliberation under the foliage of the chestnut. Francis, peering +through a clear space among the leaves, was able to follow his gestures as he +threw away the ash or enjoyed a copious inhalation; and beheld a cloud upon the +old man’s brow and a forcible action of the lips, which testified to some +deep and probably painful train of thought. The cigar was already almost at an +end, when the voice of a young girl was heard suddenly crying the hour from the +interior of the house. +</p> + +<p> +“In a moment,” replied John Vandeleur. +</p> + +<p> +And, with that, he threw away the stump and, taking up the lantern, sailed away +under the verandah for the night. As soon as the door was closed, absolute +darkness fell upon the house; Francis might try his eyesight as much as he +pleased, he could not detect so much as a single chink of light below a blind; +and he concluded, with great good sense, that the bed-chambers were all upon +the other side. +</p> + +<p> +Early the next morning (for he was early awake after an uncomfortable night +upon the floor), he saw cause to adopt a different explanation. The blinds +rose, one after another, by means of a spring in the interior, and disclosed +steel shutters such as we see on the front of shops; these in their turn were +rolled up by a similar contrivance; and for the space of about an hour, the +chambers were left open to the morning air. At the end of that time Mr. +Vandeleur, with his own hand, once more closed the shutters and replaced the +blinds from within. +</p> + +<p> +While Francis was still marvelling at these precautions, the door opened and a +young girl came forth to look about her in the garden. It was not two minutes +before she re-entered the house, but even in that short time he saw enough to +convince him that she possessed the most unusual attractions. His curiosity was +not only highly excited by this incident, but his spirits were improved to a +still more notable degree. The alarming manners and more than equivocal life of +his father ceased from that moment to prey upon his mind; from that moment he +embraced his new family with ardour; and whether the young lady should prove +his sister or his wife, he felt convinced she was an angel in disguise. So much +was this the case that he was seized with a sudden horror when he reflected how +little he really knew, and how possible it was that he had followed the wrong +person when he followed Mr. Vandeleur. +</p> + +<p> +The porter, whom he consulted, could afford him little information; but, such +as it was, it had a mysterious and questionable sound. The person next door was +an English gentleman of extraordinary wealth, and proportionately eccentric in +his tastes and habits. He possessed great collections, which he kept in the +house beside him; and it was to protect these that he had fitted the place with +steel shutters, elaborate fastenings, and <i>chevaux-de-frise</i> along the +garden wall. He lived much alone, in spite of some strange visitors with whom, +it seemed, he had business to transact; and there was no one else in the house, +except Mademoiselle and an old woman servant. +</p> + +<p> +“Is Mademoiselle his daughter?” inquired Francis. +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly,” replied the porter. “Mademoiselle is the +daughter of the house; and strange it is to see how she is made to work. For +all his riches, it is she who goes to market; and every day in the week you may +see her going by with a basket on her arm.” +</p> + +<p> +“And the collections?” asked the other. +</p> + +<p> +“Sir,” said the man, “they are immensely valuable. More I +cannot tell you. Since M. de Vandeleur’s arrival no one in the quarter +has so much as passed the door.” +</p> + +<p> +“Suppose not,” returned Francis, “you must surely have some +notion what these famous galleries contain. Is it pictures, silks, statues, +jewels, or what?” +</p> + +<p> +“My faith, sir,” said the fellow with a shrug, “it might be +carrots, and still I could not tell you. How should I know? The house is kept +like a garrison, as you perceive.” +</p> + +<p> +And then as Francis was returning disappointed to his room, the porter called +him back. +</p> + +<p> +“I have just remembered, sir,” said he. “M. de Vandeleur has +been in all parts of the world, and I once heard the old woman declare that he +had brought many diamonds back with him. If that be the truth, there must be a +fine show behind those shutters.” +</p> + +<p> +By an early hour on Sunday Francis was in his place at the theatre. The seat +which had been taken for him was only two or three numbers from the left-hand +side, and directly opposite one of the lower boxes. As the seat had been +specially chosen there was doubtless something to be learned from its position; +and he judged by an instinct that the box upon his right was, in some way or +other, to be connected with the drama in which he ignorantly played a part. +Indeed, it was so situated that its occupants could safely observe him from +beginning to end of the piece, if they were so minded; while, profiting by the +depth, they could screen themselves sufficiently well from any +counter-examination on his side. He promised himself not to leave it for a +moment out of sight; and whilst he scanned the rest of the theatre, or made a +show of attending to the business of the stage, he always kept a corner of an +eye upon the empty box. +</p> + +<p> +The second act had been some time in progress, and was even drawing towards a +close, when the door opened and two persons entered and ensconced themselves in +the darkest of the shade. Francis could hardly control his emotion. It was Mr. +Vandeleur and his daughter. The blood came and went in his arteries and veins +with stunning activity; his ears sang; his head turned. He dared not look lest +he should awake suspicion; his play-bill, which he kept reading from end to end +and over and over again, turned from white to red before his eyes; and when he +cast a glance upon the stage, it seemed incalculably far away, and he found the +voices and gestures of the actors to the last degree impertinent and absurd. +</p> + +<p> +From time to time he risked a momentary look in the direction which principally +interested him; and once at least he felt certain that his eyes encountered +those of the young girl. A shock passed over his body, and he saw all the +colours of the rainbow. What would he not have given to overhear what passed +between the Vandeleurs? What would he not have given for the courage to take up +his opera-glass and steadily inspect their attitude and expression? There, for +aught he knew, his whole life was being decided—and he not able to +interfere, not able even to follow the debate, but condemned to sit and suffer +where he was, in impotent anxiety. +</p> + +<p> +At last the act came to an end. The curtain fell, and the people around him +began to leave their places, for the interval. It was only natural that he +should follow their example; and if he did so, it was not only natural but +necessary that he should pass immediately in front of the box in question. +Summoning all his courage, but keeping his eyes lowered, Francis drew near the +spot. His progress was slow, for the old gentleman before him moved with +incredible deliberation, wheezing as he went. What was he to do? Should he +address the Vandeleurs by name as he went by? Should he take the flower from +his button-hole and throw it into the box? Should he raise his face and direct +one long and affectionate look upon the lady who was either his sister or his +betrothed? As he found himself thus struggling among so many alternatives, he +had a vision of his old equable existence in the bank, and was assailed by a +thought of regret for the past. +</p> + +<p> +By this time he had arrived directly opposite the box; and although he was +still undetermined what to do or whether to do anything, he turned his head and +lifted his eyes. No sooner had he done so than he uttered a cry of +disappointment and remained rooted to the spot. The box was empty. During his +slow advance Mr. Vandeleur and his daughter had quietly slipped away. +</p> + +<p> +A polite person in his rear reminded him that he was stopping the path; and he +moved on again with mechanical footsteps, and suffered the crowd to carry him +unresisting out of the theatre. Once in the street, the pressure ceasing, he +came to a halt, and the cool night air speedily restored him to the possession +of his faculties. He was surprised to find that his head ached violently, and +that he remembered not one word of the two acts which he had witnessed. As the +excitement wore away, it was succeeded by an overweening appetite for sleep, +and he hailed a cab and drove to his lodging in a state of extreme exhaustion +and some disgust of life. +</p> + +<p> +Next morning he lay in wait for Miss Vandeleur on her road to market, and by +eight o’clock beheld her stepping down a lane. She was simply, and even +poorly, attired; but in the carriage of her head and body there was something +flexible and noble that would have lent distinction to the meanest toilette. +Even her basket, so aptly did she carry it, became her like an ornament. It +seemed to Francis, as he slipped into a doorway, that the sunshine followed and +the shadows fled before her as she walked; and he was conscious, for the first +time, of a bird singing in a cage above the lane. +</p> + +<p> +He suffered her to pass the doorway, and then, coming forth once more, +addressed her by name from behind. “Miss Vandeleur,” said he. +</p> + +<p> +She turned and, when she saw who he was, became deadly pale. +</p> + +<p> +“Pardon me,” he continued; “Heaven knows I had no will to +startle you; and, indeed, there should be nothing startling in the presence of +one who wishes you so well as I do. And, believe me, I am acting rather from +necessity than choice. We have many things in common, and I am sadly in the +dark. There is much that I should be doing, and my hands are tied. I do not +know even what to feel, nor who are my friends and enemies.” +</p> + +<p> +She found her voice with an effort. +</p> + +<p> +“I do not know who you are,” she said. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, yes! Miss Vandeleur, you do,” returned Francis “better +than I do myself. Indeed, it is on that, above all, that I seek light. Tell me +what you know,” he pleaded. “Tell me who I am, who you are, and how +our destinies are intermixed. Give me a little help with my life, Miss +Vandeleur—only a word or two to guide me, only the name of my father, if +you will—and I shall be grateful and content.” +</p> + +<p> +“I will not attempt to deceive you,” she replied. “I know who +you are, but I am not at liberty to say.” +</p> + +<p> +“Tell me, at least, that you have forgiven my presumption, and I shall +wait with all the patience I have,” he said. “If I am not to know, +I must do without. It is cruel, but I can bear more upon a push. Only do not +add to my troubles the thought that I have made an enemy of you.” +</p> + +<p> +“You did only what was natural,” she said, “and I have +nothing to forgive you. Farewell.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is it to be <i>farewell</i>?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Nay, that I do not know myself,” she answered. “Farewell for +the present, if you like.” +</p> + +<p> +And with these words she was gone. +</p> + +<p> +Francis returned to his lodging in a state of considerable commotion of mind. +He made the most trifling progress with his Euclid for that forenoon, and was +more often at the window than at his improvised writing-table. But beyond +seeing the return of Miss Vandeleur, and the meeting between her and her +father, who was smoking a Trichinopoli cigar in the verandah, there was nothing +notable in the neighbourhood of the house with the green blinds before the time +of the mid-day meal. The young man hastily allayed his appetite in a +neighbouring restaurant, and returned with the speed of unallayed curiosity to +the house in the Rue Lepic. A mounted servant was leading a saddle-horse to and +fro before the garden wall; and the porter of Francis’s lodging was +smoking a pipe against the door-post, absorbed in contemplation of the livery +and the steeds. +</p> + +<p> +“Look!” he cried to the young man, “what fine cattle! what an +elegant costume! They belong to the brother of M. de Vandeleur, who is now +within upon a visit. He is a great man, a general, in your country; and you +doubtless know him well by reputation.” +</p> + +<p> +“I confess,” returned Francis, “that I have never heard of +General Vandeleur before. We have many officers of that grade, and my pursuits +have been exclusively civil.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is he,” replied the porter, “who lost the great diamond +of the Indies. Of that at least you must have read often in the papers.” +</p> + +<p> +As soon as Francis could disengage himself from the porter he ran upstairs and +hurried to the window. Immediately below the clear space in the chestnut +leaves, the two gentlemen were seated in conversation over a cigar. The +General, a red, military-looking man, offered some traces of a family +resemblance to his brother; he had something of the same features, something, +although very little, of the same free and powerful carriage; but he was older, +smaller, and more common in air; his likeness was that of a caricature, and he +seemed altogether a poor and debile being by the side of the Dictator. +</p> + +<p> +They spoke in tones so low, leaning over the table with every appearance of +interest, that Francis could catch no more than a word or two on an occasion. +For as little as he heard, he was convinced that the conversation turned upon +himself and his own career; several times the name of Scrymgeour reached his +ear, for it was easy to distinguish, and still more frequently he fancied he +could distinguish the name Francis. +</p> + +<p> +At length the General, as if in a hot anger, broke forth into several violent +exclamations. +</p> + +<p> +“Francis Vandeleur!” he cried, accentuating the last word. +“Francis Vandeleur, I tell you.” +</p> + +<p> +The Dictator made a movement of his whole body, half affirmative, half +contemptuous, but his answer was inaudible to the young man. +</p> + +<p> +Was he the Francis Vandeleur in question? he wondered. Were they discussing the +name under which he was to be married? Or was the whole affair a dream and a +delusion of his own conceit and self-absorption? +</p> + +<p> +After another interval of inaudible talk, dissension seemed again to arise +between the couple underneath the chestnut, and again the General raised his +voice angrily so as to be audible to Francis. +</p> + +<p> +“My wife?” he cried. “I have done with my wife for good. I +will not hear her name. I am sick of her very name.” +</p> + +<p> +And he swore aloud and beat the table with his fist. +</p> + +<p> +The Dictator appeared, by his gestures, to pacify him after a paternal fashion; +and a little after he conducted him to the garden-gate. The pair shook hands +affectionately enough; but as soon as the door had closed behind his visitor, +John Vandeleur fell into a fit of laughter which sounded unkindly and even +devilish in the ears of Francis Scrymgeour. +</p> + +<p> +So another day had passed, and little more learnt. But the young man remembered +that the morrow was Tuesday, and promised himself some curious discoveries; all +might be well, or all might be ill; he was sure, at least, to glean some +curious information, and, perhaps, by good luck, get at the heart of the +mystery which surrounded his father and his family. +</p> + +<p> +As the hour of the dinner drew near many preparations were made in the garden +of the house with the green blinds. That table which was partly visible to +Francis through the chestnut leaves was destined to serve as a sideboard, and +carried relays of plates and the materials for salad: the other, which was +almost entirely concealed, had been set apart for the diners, and Francis could +catch glimpses of white cloth and silver plate. +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Rolles arrived, punctual to the minute; he looked like a man upon his +guard, and spoke low and sparingly. The Dictator, on the other hand, appeared +to enjoy an unusual flow of spirits; his laugh, which was youthful and pleasant +to hear, sounded frequently from the garden; by the modulation and the changes +of his voice it was obvious that he told many droll stories and imitated the +accents of a variety of different nations; and before he and the young +clergyman had finished their vermouth all feeling of distrust was at an end, +and they were talking together like a pair of school companions. +</p> + +<p> +At length Miss Vandeleur made her appearance, carrying the soup-tureen. Mr. +Rolles ran to offer her assistance which she laughingly refused; and there was +an interchange of pleasantries among the trio which seemed to have reference to +this primitive manner of waiting by one of the company. +</p> + +<p> +“One is more at one’s ease,” Mr. Vandeleur was heard to +declare. +</p> + +<p> +Next moment they were all three in their places, and Francis could see as +little as he could hear of what passed. But the dinner seemed to go merrily; +there was a perpetual babble of voices and sound of knives and forks below the +chestnut; and Francis, who had no more than a roll to gnaw, was affected with +envy by the comfort and deliberation of the meal. The party lingered over one +dish after another, and then over a delicate dessert, with a bottle of old wine +carefully uncorked by the hand of the Dictator himself. As it began to grow +dark a lamp was set upon the table and a couple of candles on the sideboard; +for the night was perfectly pure, starry, and windless. Light overflowed +besides from the door and window in the verandah, so that the garden was fairly +illuminated and the leaves twinkled in the darkness. +</p> + +<p> +For perhaps the tenth time Miss Vandeleur entered the house; and on this +occasion she returned with the coffee-tray, which she placed upon the +sideboard. At the same moment her father rose from his seat. +</p> + +<p> +“The coffee is my province,” Francis heard him say. +</p> + +<p> +And next moment he saw his supposed father standing by the sideboard in the +light of the candles. +</p> + +<p> +Talking over his shoulder all the while, Mr. Vandeleur poured out two cups of +the brown stimulant, and then, by a rapid act of prestidigitation, emptied the +contents of a tiny phial into the smaller of the two. The thing was so swiftly +done that even Francis, who looked straight into his face, had hardly time to +perceive the movement before it was completed. And next instant, and still +laughing, Mr. Vandeleur had turned again towards the table with a cup in either +hand. +</p> + +<p> +“Ere we have done with this,” said he, “we may expect our +famous Hebrew.” +</p> + +<p> +It would be impossible to depict the confusion and distress of Francis +Scrymgeour. He saw foul play going forward before his eyes, and he felt bound +to interfere, but knew not how. It might be a mere pleasantry, and then how +should he look if he were to offer an unnecessary warning? Or again, if it were +serious, the criminal might be his own father, and then how should he not +lament if he were to bring ruin on the author of his days? For the first time +he became conscious of his own position as a spy. To wait inactive at such a +juncture and with such a conflict of sentiments in his bosom was to suffer the +most acute torture; he clung to the bars of the shutters, his heart beat fast +and with irregularity, and he felt a strong sweat break forth upon his body. +</p> + +<p> +Several minutes passed. +</p> + +<p> +He seemed to perceive the conversation die away and grow less and less in +vivacity and volume; but still no sign of any alarming or even notable event. +</p> + +<p> +Suddenly the ring of a glass breaking was followed by a faint and dull sound, +as of a person who should have fallen forward with his head upon the table. At +the same moment a piercing scream rose from the garden. +</p> + +<p> +“What have you done?” cried Miss Vandeleur. “He is +dead!” +</p> + +<p> +The Dictator replied in a violent whisper, so strong and sibilant that every +word was audible to the watcher at the window. +</p> + +<p> +“Silence!” said Mr. Vandeleur; “the man is as well as I am. +Take him by the heels whilst I carry him by the shoulders.” +</p> + +<p> +Francis heard Miss Vandeleur break forth into a passion of tears. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you hear what I say?” resumed the Dictator, in the same tones. +“Or do you wish to quarrel with me? I give you your choice, Miss +Vandeleur.” +</p> + +<p> +There was another pause, and the Dictator spoke again. +</p> + +<p> +“Take that man by the heels,” he said. “I must have him +brought into the house. If I were a little younger, I could help myself against +the world. But now that years and dangers are upon me and my hands are +weakened, I must turn to you for aid.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is a crime,” replied the girl. +</p> + +<p> +“I am your father,” said Mr. Vandeleur. +</p> + +<p> +This appeal seemed to produce its effect. A scuffling noise followed upon the +gravel, a chair was overset, and then Francis saw the father and daughter +stagger across the walk and disappear under the verandah, bearing the inanimate +body of Mr. Rolles embraced about the knees and shoulders. The young clergyman +was limp and pallid, and his head rolled upon his shoulders at every step. +</p> + +<p> +Was he alive or dead? Francis, in spite of the Dictator’s declaration, +inclined to the latter view. A great crime had been committed; a great calamity +had fallen upon the inhabitants of the house with the green blinds. To his +surprise, Francis found all horror for the deed swallowed up in sorrow for a +girl and an old man whom he judged to be in the height of peril. A tide of +generous feeling swept into his heart; he, too, would help his father against +man and mankind, against fate and justice; and casting open the shutters he +closed his eyes and threw himself with out-stretched arms into the foliage of +the chestnut. +</p> + +<p> +Branch after branch slipped from his grasp or broke under his weight; then he +caught a stalwart bough under his armpit, and hung suspended for a second; and +then he let himself drop and fell heavily against the table. A cry of alarm +from the house warned him that his entrance had not been effected unobserved. +He recovered himself with a stagger, and in three bounds crossed the +intervening space and stood before the door in the verandah. +</p> + +<p> +In a small apartment, carpeted with matting and surrounded by glazed cabinets +full of rare and costly curios, Mr. Vandeleur was stooping over the body of Mr. +Rolles. He raised himself as Francis entered, and there was an instantaneous +passage of hands. It was the business of a second; as fast as an eye can wink +the thing was done; the young man had not the time to be sure, but it seemed to +him as if the Dictator had taken something from the curate’s breast, +looked at it for the least fraction of time as it lay in his hand, and then +suddenly and swiftly passed it to his daughter. +</p> + +<p> +All this was over while Francis had still one foot upon the threshold, and the +other raised in air. The next instant he was on his knees to Mr. Vandeleur. +</p> + +<p> +“Father!” he cried. “Let me too help you. I will do what you +wish and ask no questions; I will obey you with my life; treat me as a son, and +you will find I have a son’s devotion.” +</p> + +<p> +A deplorable explosion of oaths was the Dictator’s first reply. +</p> + +<p> +“Son and father?” he cried. “Father and son? What d—d +unnatural comedy is all this? How do you come in my garden? What do you want? +And who, in God’s name, are you?” +</p> + +<p> +Francis, with a stunned and shamefaced aspect, got upon his feet again, and +stood in silence. +</p> + +<p> +Then a light seemed to break upon Mr. Vandeleur, and he laughed aloud +</p> + +<p> +“I see,” cried he. “It is the Scrymgeour. Very well, Mr. +Scrymgeour. Let me tell you in a few words how you stand. You have entered my +private residence by force, or perhaps by fraud, but certainly with no +encouragement from me; and you come at a moment of some annoyance, a guest +having fainted at my table, to besiege me with your protestations. You are no +son of mine. You are my brother’s bastard by a fishwife, if you want to +know. I regard you with an indifference closely bordering on aversion; and from +what I now see of your conduct, I judge your mind to be exactly suitable to +your exterior. I recommend you these mortifying reflections for your leisure; +and, in the meantime, let me beseech you to rid us of your presence. If I were +not occupied,” added the Dictator, with a terrifying oath, “I +should give you the unholiest drubbing ere you went!” +</p> + +<p> +Francis listened in profound humiliation. He would have fled had it been +possible; but as he had no means of leaving the residence into which he had so +unfortunately penetrated, he could do no more than stand foolishly where he +was. +</p> + +<p> +It was Miss Vandeleur who broke the silence. +</p> + +<p> +“Father,” she said, “you speak in anger. Mr. Scrymgeour may +have been mistaken, but he meant well and kindly.” +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you for speaking,” returned the Dictator. “You remind +me of some other observations which I hold it a point of honour to make to Mr. +Scrymgeour. My brother,” he continued, addressing the young man, +“has been foolish enough to give you an allowance; he was foolish enough +and presumptuous enough to propose a match between you and this young lady. You +were exhibited to her two nights ago; and I rejoice to tell you that she +rejected the idea with disgust. Let me add that I have considerable influence +with your father; and it shall not be my fault if you are not beggared of your +allowance and sent back to your scrivening ere the week be out.” +</p> + +<p> +The tones of the old man’s voice were, if possible, more wounding than +his language; Francis felt himself exposed to the most cruel, blighting, and +unbearable contempt; his head turned, and he covered his face with his hands, +uttering at the same time a tearless sob of agony. But Miss Vandeleur once +again interfered in his behalf. +</p> + +<p> +“Mr. Scrymgeour,” she said, speaking in clear and even tones, +“you must not be concerned at my father’s harsh expressions. I felt +no disgust for you; on the contrary, I asked an opportunity to make your better +acquaintance. As for what has passed to-night, believe me it has filled my mind +with both pity and esteem.” +</p> + +<p> +Just then Mr. Rolles made a convulsive movement with his arm, which convinced +Francis that he was only drugged, and was beginning to throw off the influence +of the opiate. Mr. Vandeleur stooped over him and examined his face for an +instant. +</p> + +<p> +“Come, come!” cried he, raising his head. “Let there be an +end of this. And since you are so pleased with his conduct, Miss Vandeleur, +take a candle and show the bastard out.” +</p> + +<p> +The young lady hastened to obey. +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you,” said Francis, as soon as he was alone with her in the +garden. “I thank you from my soul. This has been the bitterest evening of +my life, but it will have always one pleasant recollection.” +</p> + +<p> +“I spoke as I felt,” she replied, “and in justice to you. It +made my heart sorry that you should be so unkindly used.” +</p> + +<p> +By this time they had reached the garden gate; and Miss Vandeleur, having set +the candle on the ground, was already unfastening the bolts. +</p> + +<p> +“One word more,” said Francis. “This is not for the last +time—I shall see you again, shall I not?” +</p> + +<p> +“Alas!” she answered. “You have heard my father. What can I +do but obey?” +</p> + +<p> +“Tell me at least that it is not with your consent,” returned +Francis; “tell me that you have no wish to see the last of me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed,” replied she, “I have none. You seem to me both +brave and honest.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then,” said Francis, “give me a keepsake.” +</p> + +<p> +She paused for a moment, with her hand upon the key; for the various bars and +bolts were all undone, and there was nothing left but to open the lock. +</p> + +<p> +“If I agree,” she said, “will you promise to do as I tell you +from point to point?” +</p> + +<p> +“Can you ask?” replied Francis. “I would do so willingly on +your bare word.” +</p> + +<p> +She turned the key and threw open the door. +</p> + +<p> +“Be it so,” said she. “You do not know what you ask, but be +it so. Whatever you hear,” she continued, “whatever happens, do not +return to this house; hurry fast until you reach the lighted and populous +quarters of the city; even there be upon your guard. You are in a greater +danger than you fancy. Promise me you will not so much as look at my keepsake +until you are in a place of safety.” +</p> + +<p> +“I promise,” replied Francis. +</p> + +<p> +She put something loosely wrapped in a handkerchief into the young man’s +hand; and at the same time, with more strength than he could have anticipated, +she pushed him into the street. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, run!” she cried. +</p> + +<p> +He heard the door close behind him, and the noise of the bolts being replaced. +</p> + +<p> +“My faith,” said he, “since I have promised!” +</p> + +<p> +And he took to his heels down the lane that leads into the Rue Ravignan. +</p> + +<p> +He was not fifty paces from the house with the green blinds when the most +diabolical outcry suddenly arose out of the stillness of the night. +Mechanically he stood still; another passenger followed his example; in the +neighbouring floors he saw people crowding to the windows; a conflagration +could not have produced more disturbance in this empty quarter. And yet it +seemed to be all the work of a single man, roaring between grief and rage, like +a lioness robbed of her whelps; and Francis was surprised and alarmed to hear +his own name shouted with English imprecations to the wind. +</p> + +<p> +His first movement was to return to the house; his second, as he remembered +Miss Vandeleur’s advice, to continue his flight with greater expedition +than before; and he was in the act of turning to put his thought in action, +when the Dictator, bareheaded, bawling aloud, his white hair blowing about his +head, shot past him like a ball out of the cannon’s mouth, and went +careering down the street. +</p> + +<p> +“That was a close shave,” thought Francis to himself. “What +he wants with me, and why he should be so disturbed, I cannot think; but he is +plainly not good company for the moment, and I cannot do better than follow +Miss Vandeleur’s advice.” +</p> + +<p> +So saying, he turned to retrace his steps, thinking to double and descend by +the Rue Lepic itself while his pursuer should continue to follow after him on +the other line of street. The plan was ill-devised: as a matter of fact, he +should have taken his seat in the nearest café, and waited there until the +first heat of the pursuit was over. But besides that Francis had no experience +and little natural aptitude for the small war of private life, he was so +unconscious of any evil on his part, that he saw nothing to fear beyond a +disagreeable interview. And to disagreeable interviews he felt he had already +served his apprenticeship that evening; nor could he suppose that Miss +Vandeleur had left anything unsaid. Indeed, the young man was sore both in body +and mind—the one was all bruised, the other was full of smarting arrows; +and he owned to himself that Mr. Vandeleur was master of a very deadly tongue. +</p> + +<p> +The thought of his bruises reminded him that he had not only come without a +hat, but that his clothes had considerably suffered in his descent through the +chestnut. At the first magazine he purchased a cheap wideawake, and had the +disorder of his toilet summarily repaired. The keepsake, still rolled in the +handkerchief, he thrust in the meanwhile into his trousers pocket. +</p> + +<p> +Not many steps beyond the shop he was conscious of a sudden shock, a hand upon +his throat, an infuriated face close to his own, and an open mouth bawling +curses in his ear. The Dictator, having found no trace of his quarry, was +returning by the other way. Francis was a stalwart young fellow; but he was no +match for his adversary whether in strength or skill; and after a few +ineffectual struggles he resigned himself entirely to his captor. +</p> + +<p> +“What do you want with me?” said he. +</p> + +<p> +“We will talk of that at home,” returned the Dictator grimly. +</p> + +<p> +And he continued to march the young man up hill in the direction of the house +with the green blinds. +</p> + +<p> +But Francis, although he no longer struggled, was only waiting an opportunity +to make a bold push for freedom. With a sudden jerk he left the collar of his +coat in the hands of Mr. Vandeleur, and once more made off at his best speed in +the direction of the Boulevards. +</p> + +<p> +The tables were now turned. If the Dictator was the stronger, Francis, in the +top of his youth, was the more fleet of foot, and he had soon effected his +escape among the crowds. Relieved for a moment, but with a growing sentiment of +alarm and wonder in his mind, he walked briskly until he debouched upon the +Place de l’Opéra, lit up like day with electric lamps. +</p> + +<p> +“This, at least,” thought he, “should satisfy Miss +Vandeleur.” +</p> + +<p> +And turning to his right along the Boulevards, he entered the Café Américain +and ordered some beer. It was both late and early for the majority of the +frequenters of the establishment. Only two or three persons, all men, were +dotted here and there at separate tables in the hall; and Francis was too much +occupied by his own thoughts to observe their presence. +</p> + +<p> +He drew the handkerchief from his pocket. The object wrapped in it proved to be +a morocco case, clasped and ornamented in gilt, which opened by means of a +spring, and disclosed to the horrified young man a diamond of monstrous bigness +and extraordinary brilliancy. The circumstance was so inexplicable, the value +of the stone was plainly so enormous, that Francis sat staring into the open +casket without movement, without conscious thought, like a man stricken +suddenly with idiocy. +</p> + +<p> +A hand was laid upon his shoulder, lightly but firmly, and a quiet voice, which +yet had in it the ring of command, uttered these words in his ear— +</p> + +<p> +“Close the casket, and compose your face.” +</p> + +<p> +Looking up, he beheld a man, still young, of an urbane and tranquil presence, +and dressed with rich simplicity. This personage had risen from a neighbouring +table, and, bringing his glass with him, had taken a seat beside Francis. +</p> + +<p> +“Close the casket,” repeated the stranger, “and put it +quietly back into your pocket, where I feel persuaded it should never have +been. Try, if you please, to throw off your bewildered air, and act as though I +were one of your acquaintances whom you had met by chance. So! Touch glasses +with me. That is better. I fear, sir, you must be an amateur.” +</p> + +<p> +And the stranger pronounced these last words with a smile of peculiar meaning, +leaned back in his seat and enjoyed a deep inhalation of tobacco. +</p> + +<p> +“For God’s sake,” said Francis, “tell me who you are +and what this means? Why I should obey your most unusual suggestions I am sure +I know not; but the truth is, I have fallen this evening into so many +perplexing adventures, and all I meet conduct themselves so strangely, that I +think I must either have gone mad or wandered into another planet. Your face +inspires me with confidence; you seem wise, good, and experienced; tell me, for +heaven’s sake, why you accost me in so odd a fashion?” +</p> + +<p> +“All in due time,” replied the stranger. “But I have the +first hand, and you must begin by telling me how the Rajah’s Diamond is +in your possession.” +</p> + +<p> +“The Rajah’s Diamond!” echoed Francis. +</p> + +<p> +“I would not speak so loud, if I were you,” returned the other. +“But most certainly you have the Rajah’s Diamond in your pocket. I +have seen and handled it a score of times in Sir Thomas Vandeleur’s +collection.” +</p> + +<p> +“Sir Thomas Vandeleur! The General! My father!” cried Francis. +</p> + +<p> +“Your father?” repeated the stranger. “I was not aware the +General had any family.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am illegitimate, sir,” replied Francis, with a flush. +</p> + +<p> +The other bowed with gravity. It was a respectful bow, as of a man silently +apologising to his equal; and Francis felt relieved and comforted, he scarce +knew why. The society of this person did him good; he seemed to touch firm +ground; a strong feeling of respect grew up in his bosom, and mechanically he +removed his wideawake as though in the presence of a superior. +</p> + +<p> +“I perceive,” said the stranger, “that your adventures have +not all been peaceful. Your collar is torn, your face is scratched, you have a +cut upon your temple; you will, perhaps, pardon my curiosity when I ask you to +explain how you came by these injuries, and how you happen to have stolen +property to an enormous value in your pocket.” +</p> + +<p> +“I must differ from you!” returned Francis hotly. “I possess +no stolen property. And if you refer to the diamond, it was given to me not an +hour ago by Miss Vandeleur in the Rue Lepic.” +</p> + +<p> +“By Miss Vandeleur of the Rue Lepic!” repeated the other. +“You interest me more than you suppose. Pray continue.” +</p> + +<p> +“Heavens!” cried Francis. +</p> + +<p> +His memory had made a sudden bound. He had seen Mr. Vandeleur take an article +from the breast of his drugged visitor, and that article, he was now persuaded, +was a morocco case. +</p> + +<p> +“You have a light?” inquired the stranger. +</p> + +<p> +“Listen,” replied Francis. “I know not who you are, but I +believe you to be worthy of confidence and helpful; I find myself in strange +waters; I must have counsel and support, and since you invite me I shall tell +you all.” +</p> + +<p> +And he briefly recounted his experiences since the day when he was summoned +from the bank by his lawyer. +</p> + +<p> +“Yours is indeed a remarkable history,” said the stranger, after +the young man had made an end of his narrative; “and your position is +full of difficulty and peril. Many would counsel you to seek out your father, +and give the diamond to him; but I have other views. Waiter!” he cried. +</p> + +<p> +The waiter drew near. +</p> + +<p> +“Will you ask the manager to speak with me a moment?” said he; and +Francis observed once more, both in his tone and manner, the evidence of a +habit of command. +</p> + +<p> +The waiter withdrew, and returned in a moment with manager, who bowed with +obsequious respect. +</p> + +<p> +“What,” said he, “can I do to serve you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Have the goodness,” replied the stranger, indicating Francis, +“to tell this gentleman my name.” +</p> + +<p> +“You have the honour, sir,” said the functionary, addressing young +Scrymgeour, “to occupy the same table with His Highness Prince Florizel +of Bohemia.” +</p> + +<p> +Francis rose with precipitation, and made a grateful reverence to the Prince, +who bade him resume his seat. +</p> + +<p> +“I thank you,” said Florizel, once more addressing the functionary; +“I am sorry to have deranged you for so small a matter.” +</p> + +<p> +And he dismissed him with a movement of his hand. +</p> + +<p> +“And now,” added the Prince, turning to Francis, “give me the +diamond.” +</p> + +<p> +Without a word the casket was handed over. +</p> + +<p> +“You have done right,” said Florizel, “your sentiments have +properly inspired you, and you will live to be grateful for the misfortunes of +to-night. A man, Mr. Scrymgeour, may fall into a thousand perplexities, but if +his heart be upright and his intelligence unclouded, he will issue from them +all without dishonour. Let your mind be at rest; your affairs are in my hand; +and with the aid of heaven I am strong enough to bring them to a good end. +Follow me, if you please, to my carriage.” +</p> + +<p> +So saying the Prince arose and, having left a piece of gold for the waiter, +conducted the young man from the café and along the Boulevard to where an +unpretentious brougham and a couple of servants out of livery awaited his +arrival. +</p> + +<p> +“This carriage,” said he, “is at your disposal; collect your +baggage as rapidly as you can make it convenient, and my servants will conduct +you to a villa in the neighbourhood of Paris where you can wait in some degree +of comfort until I have had time to arrange your situation. You will find there +a pleasant garden, a library of good authors, a cook, a cellar, and some good +cigars, which I recommend to your attention. Jérome,” he added, turning +to one of the servants, “you have heard what I say; I leave Mr. +Scrymgeour in your charge; you will, I know, be careful of my friend.” +</p> + +<p> +Francis uttered some broken phrases of gratitude. +</p> + +<p> +“It will be time enough to thank me,” said the Prince, “when +you are acknowledged by your father and married to Miss Vandeleur.” +</p> + +<p> +And with that the Prince turned away and strolled leisurely in the direction of +Montmartre. He hailed the first passing cab, gave an address, and a quarter of +an hour afterwards, having discharged the driver some distance lower, he was +knocking at Mr. Vandeleur’s garden gate. +</p> + +<p> +It was opened with singular precautions by the Dictator in person. +</p> + +<p> +“Who are you?” he demanded. +</p> + +<p> +“You must pardon me this late visit, Mr. Vandeleur,” replied the +Prince. +</p> + +<p> +“Your Highness is always welcome,” returned Mr. Vandeleur, stepping +back. +</p> + +<p> +The Prince profited by the open space, and without waiting for his host walked +right into the house and opened the door of the <i>salon</i>. Two people were +seated there; one was Miss Vandeleur, who bore the marks of weeping about her +eyes, and was still shaken from time to time by a sob; in the other the Prince +recognised the young man who had consulted him on literary matters about a +month before, in a club smoking-room. +</p> + +<p> +“Good evening, Miss Vandeleur,” said Florizel; “you look +fatigued. Mr. Rolles, I believe? I hope you have profited by the study of +Gaboriau, Mr. Rolles.” +</p> + +<p> +But the young clergyman’s temper was too much embittered for speech; and +he contented himself with bowing stiffly, and continued to gnaw his lip. +</p> + +<p> +“To what good wind,” said Mr. Vandeleur, following his guest, +“am I to attribute the honour of your Highness’s presence?” +</p> + +<p> +“I am come on business,” returned the Prince; “on business +with you; as soon as that is settled I shall request Mr. Rolles to accompany me +for a walk. Mr. Rolles,” he added with severity, “let me remind you +that I have not yet sat down.” +</p> + +<p> +The clergyman sprang to his feet with an apology; whereupon the Prince took an +armchair beside the table, handed his hat to Mr. Vandeleur, his cane to Mr. +Rolles, and, leaving them standing and thus menially employed upon his service, +spoke as follows:— +</p> + +<p> +“I have come here, as I said, upon business; but, had I come looking for +pleasure, I could not have been more displeased with my reception nor more +dissatisfied with my company. You, sir,” addressing Mr. Rolles, +“you have treated your superior in station with discourtesy; you, +Vandeleur, receive me with a smile, but you know right well that your hands are +not yet cleansed from misconduct. I do not desire to be interrupted, +sir,” he added imperiously; “I am here to speak, and not to listen; +and I have to ask you to hear me with respect, and to obey punctiliously. At +the earliest possible date your daughter shall be married at the Embassy to my +friend, Francis Scrymgeour, your brother’s acknowledged son. You will +oblige me by offering not less than ten thousand pounds dowry. For yourself, I +will indicate to you in writing a mission of some importance in Siam which I +destine to your care. And now, sir, you will answer me in two words whether or +not you agree to these conditions.” +</p> + +<p> +“Your Highness will pardon me,” said Mr. Vandeleur, “and +permit me, with all respect, to submit to him two queries?” +</p> + +<p> +“The permission is granted,” replied the Prince. +</p> + +<p> +“Your Highness,” resumed the Dictator, “has called Mr. +Scrymgeour his friend. Believe me, had I known he was thus honoured, I should +have treated him with proportional respect.” +</p> + +<p> +“You interrogate adroitly,” said the Prince; “but it will not +serve your turn. You have my commands; if I had never seen that gentleman +before to-night, it would not render them less absolute.” +</p> + +<p> +“Your Highness interprets my meaning with his usual subtlety,” +returned Vandeleur. “Once more: I have, unfortunately, put the police +upon the track of Mr. Scrymgeour on a charge of theft; am I to withdraw or to +uphold the accusation?” +</p> + +<p> +“You will please yourself,” replied Florizel. “The question +is one between your conscience and the laws of this land. Give me my hat; and +you, Mr. Rolles, give me my cane and follow me. Miss Vandeleur, I wish you good +evening. I judge,” he added to Vandeleur, “that your silence means +unqualified assent.” +</p> + +<p> +“If I can do no better,” replied the old man, “I shall +submit; but I warn you openly it shall not be without a struggle.” +</p> + +<p> +“You are old,” said the Prince; “but years are disgraceful to +the wicked. Your age is more unwise than the youth of others. Do not provoke +me, or you may find me harder than you dream. This is the first time that I +have fallen across your path in anger; take care that it be the last.” +</p> + +<p> +With these words, motioning the clergyman to follow, Florizel left the +apartment and directed his steps towards the garden gate; and the Dictator, +following with a candle, gave them light, and once more undid the elaborate +fastenings with which he sought to protect himself from intrusion. +</p> + +<p> +“Your daughter is no longer present,” said the Prince, turning on +the threshold. “Let me tell you that I understand your threats; and you +have only to lift your hand to bring upon yourself sudden and irremediable +ruin.” +</p> + +<p> +The Dictator made no reply; but as the Prince turned his back upon him in the +lamplight he made a gesture full of menace and insane fury; and the next +moment, slipping round a corner, he was running at full speed for the nearest +cab-stand. +</p> + +<div class="gapspace"> </div> + +<p> +(<i>Here</i>, says my Arabian, <i>the thread of events is finally diverted +from</i> <span class="smcap">The House with the Green Blinds</span>. <i>One +more adventure</i>, he adds, <i>and we have done with</i> <span +class="smcap">The Rajah’s Diamond</span>. <i>That last link in the chain +is known among the inhabitants of Bagdad by the name of</i> <span +class="smcap">The Adventure of Prince Florizel and a Detective</span>.) +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap09"></a>THE ADVENTURE OF PRINCE FLORIZEL AND A DETECTIVE</h3> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">Prince Florizel</span> walked with Mr. Rolles to the door +of a small hotel where the latter resided. They spoke much together, and the +clergyman was more than once affected to tears by the mingled severity and +tenderness of Florizel’s reproaches. +</p> + +<p> +“I have made ruin of my life,” he said at last. “Help me; +tell me what I am to do; I have, alas! neither the virtues of a priest nor the +dexterity of a rogue.” +</p> + +<p> +“Now that you are humbled,” said the Prince, “I command no +longer; the repentant have to do with God and not with princes. But if you will +let me advise you, go to Australia as a colonist, seek menial labour in the +open air, and try to forget that you have ever been a clergyman, or that you +ever set eyes on that accursed stone.” +</p> + +<p> +“Accurst indeed!” replied Mr. Rolles. “Where is it now? What +further hurt is it not working for mankind?” +</p> + +<p> +“It will do no more evil,” returned the Prince. “It is here +in my pocket. And this,” he added kindly, “will show that I place +some faith in your penitence, young as it is.” +</p> + +<p> +“Suffer me to touch your hand,” pleaded Mr. Rolles. +</p> + +<p> +“No,” replied Prince Florizel, “not yet.” +</p> + +<p> +The tone in which he uttered these last words was eloquent in the ears of the +young clergyman; and for some minutes after the Prince had turned away he stood +on the threshold following with his eyes the retreating figure and invoking the +blessing of heaven upon a man so excellent in counsel. +</p> + +<p> +For several hours the Prince walked alone in unfrequented streets. His mind was +full of concern; what to do with the diamond, whether to return it to its +owner, whom he judged unworthy of this rare possession, or to take some +sweeping and courageous measure and put it out of the reach of all mankind at +once and for ever, was a problem too grave to be decided in a moment. The +manner in which it had come into his hands appeared manifestly providential; +and as he took out the jewel and looked at it under the street lamps, its size +and surprising brilliancy inclined him more and more to think of it as of an +unmixed and dangerous evil for the world. +</p> + +<p> +“God help me!” he thought; “if I look at it much oftener, I +shall begin to grow covetous myself.” +</p> + +<p> +At last, though still uncertain in his mind, he turned his steps towards the +small but elegant mansion on the river-side which had belonged for centuries to +his royal family. The arms of Bohemia are deeply graved over the door and upon +the tall chimneys; passengers have a look into a green court set with the most +costly flowers, and a stork, the only one in Paris, perches on the gable all +day long and keeps a crowd before the house. Grave servants are seen passing to +and fro within; and from time to time the great gate is thrown open and a +carriage rolls below the arch. For many reasons this residence was especially +dear to the heart of Prince Florizel; he never drew near to it without enjoying +that sentiment of home-coming so rare in the lives of the great; and on the +present evening he beheld its tall roof and mildly illuminated windows with +unfeigned relief and satisfaction. +</p> + +<p> +As he was approaching the postern door by which he always entered when alone, a +man stepped forth from the shadow and presented himself with an obeisance in +the Prince’s path. +</p> + +<p> +“I have the honour of addressing Prince Florizel of Bohemia?” said +he. +</p> + +<p> +“Such is my title,” replied the Prince. “What do you want +with me?” +</p> + +<p> +“I am,” said the man, “a detective, and I have to present +your Highness with this billet from the Prefect of Police.” +</p> + +<p> +The Prince took the letter and glanced it through by the light of the street +lamp. It was highly apologetic, but requested him to follow the bearer to the +Prefecture without delay. +</p> + +<p> +“In short,” said Florizel, “I am arrested.” +</p> + +<p> +“Your Highness,” replied the officer, “nothing, I am certain, +could be further from the intention of the Prefect. You will observe that he +has not granted a warrant. It is mere formality, or call it, if you prefer, an +obligation that your Highness lays on the authorities.” +</p> + +<p> +“At the same time,” asked the Prince, “if I were to refuse to +follow you?” +</p> + +<p> +“I will not conceal from your Highness that a considerable discretion has +been granted me,” replied the detective with a bow. +</p> + +<p> +“Upon my word,” cried Florizel, “your effrontery astounds me! +Yourself, as an agent, I must pardon; but your superiors shall dearly smart for +their misconduct. What, have you any idea, is the cause of this impolitic and +unconstitutional act? You will observe that I have as yet neither refused nor +consented, and much may depend on your prompt and ingenuous answer. Let me +remind you, officer, that this is an affair of some gravity.” +</p> + +<p> +“Your Highness,” said the detective humbly, “General +Vandeleur and his brother have had the incredible presumption to accuse you of +theft. The famous diamond, they declare, is in your hands. A word from you in +denial will most amply satisfy the Prefect; nay, I go farther: if your Highness +would so far honour a subaltern as to declare his ignorance of the matter even +to myself, I should ask permission to retire upon the spot.” +</p> + +<p> +Florizel, up to the last moment, had regarded his adventure in the light of a +trifle, only serious upon international considerations. At the name of +Vandeleur the horrible truth broke upon him in a moment; he was not only +arrested, but he was guilty. This was not only an annoying incident—it +was a peril to his honour. What was he to say? What was he to do? The +Rajah’s Diamond was indeed an accursed stone; and it seemed as if he were +to be the last victim to its influence. +</p> + +<p> +One thing was certain. He could not give the required assurance to the +detective. He must gain time. +</p> + +<p> +His hesitation had not lasted a second. +</p> + +<p> +“Be it so,” said he, “let us walk together to the +Prefecture.” +</p> + +<p> +The man once more bowed, and proceeded to follow Florizel at a respectful +distance in the rear. +</p> + +<p> +“Approach,” said the Prince. “I am in a humour to talk, and, +if I mistake not, now I look at you again, this is not the first time that we +have met.” +</p> + +<p> +“I count it an honour,” replied the officer, “that your +Highness should recollect my face. It is eight years since I had the pleasure +of an interview.” +</p> + +<p> +“To remember faces,” returned Florizel, “is as much a part of +my profession as it is of yours. Indeed, rightly looked upon, a Prince and a +detective serve in the same corps. We are both combatants against crime; only +mine is the more lucrative and yours the more dangerous rank, and there is a +sense in which both may be made equally honourable to a good man. I had rather, +strange as you may think it, be a detective of character and parts than a weak +and ignoble sovereign.” +</p> + +<p> +The officer was overwhelmed. +</p> + +<p> +“Your Highness returns good for evil,” said he. “To an act of +presumption he replies by the most amiable condescension.” +</p> + +<p> +“How do you know,” replied Florizel, “that I am not seeking +to corrupt you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Heaven preserve me from the temptation!” cried the detective. +</p> + +<p> +“I applaud your answer,” returned the Prince. “It is that of +a wise and honest man. The world is a great place and stocked with wealth and +beauty, and there is no limit to the rewards that may be offered. Such an one +who would refuse a million of money may sell his honour for an empire or the +love of a woman; and I myself, who speak to you, have seen occasions so +tempting, provocations so irresistible to the strength of human virtue, that I +have been glad to tread in your steps and recommend myself to the grace of God. +It is thus, thanks to that modest and becoming habit alone,” he added, +“that you and I can walk this town together with untarnished +hearts.” +</p> + +<p> +“I had always heard that you were brave,” replied the officer, +“but I was not aware that you were wise and pious. You speak the truth, +and you speak it with an accent that moves me to the heart. This world is +indeed a place of trial.” +</p> + +<p> +“We are now,” said Florizel, “in the middle of the bridge. +Lean your elbows on the parapet and look over. As the water rushing below, so +the passions and complications of life carry away the honesty of weak men. Let +me tell you a story.” +</p> + +<p> +“I receive your Highness’s commands,” replied the man. +</p> + +<p> +And, imitating the Prince, he leaned against the parapet, and disposed himself +to listen. The city was already sunk in slumber; had it not been for the +infinity of lights and the outline of buildings on the starry sky, they might +have been alone beside some country river. +</p> + +<p> +“An officer,” began Prince Florizel, “a man of courage and +conduct, who had already risen by merit to an eminent rank, and won not only +admiration but respect, visited, in an unfortunate hour for his peace of mind, +the collections of an Indian Prince. Here he beheld a diamond so extraordinary +for size and beauty that from that instant he had only one desire in life: +honour, reputation, friendship, the love of country, he was ready to sacrifice +all for this lump of sparkling crystal. For three years he served this +semi-barbarian potentate as Jacob served Laban; he falsified frontiers, he +connived at murders, he unjustly condemned and executed a brother-officer who +had the misfortune to displease the Rajah by some honest freedoms; lastly, at a +time of great danger to his native land, he betrayed a body of his +fellow-soldiers, and suffered them to be defeated and massacred by thousands. +In the end, he had amassed a magnificent fortune, and brought home with him the +coveted diamond. +</p> + +<p> +“Years passed,” continued the Prince, “and at length the +diamond is accidentally lost. It falls into the hands of a simple and laborious +youth, a student, a minister of God, just entering on a career of usefulness +and even distinction. Upon him also the spell is cast; he deserts everything, +his holy calling, his studies, and flees with the gem into a foreign country. +The officer has a brother, an astute, daring, unscrupulous man, who learns the +clergyman’s secret. What does he do? Tell his brother, inform the police? +No; upon this man also the Satanic charm has fallen; he must have the stone for +himself. At the risk of murder, he drugs the young priest and seizes the prey. +And now, by an accident which is not important to my moral, the jewel passes +out of his custody into that of another, who, terrified at what he sees, gives +it into the keeping of a man in high station and above reproach. +</p> + +<p> +“The officer’s name is Thomas Vandeleur,” continued Florizel. +“The stone is called the Rajah’s Diamond. And”—suddenly +opening his hand—“you behold it here before your eyes.” +</p> + +<p> +The officer started back with a cry. +</p> + +<p> +“We have spoken of corruption,” said the Prince. “To me this +nugget of bright crystal is as loathsome as though it were crawling with the +worms of death; it is as shocking as though it were compacted out of innocent +blood. I see it here in my hand, and I know it is shining with hell-fire. I +have told you but a hundredth part of its story; what passed in former ages, to +what crimes and treacheries it incited men of yore, the imagination trembles to +conceive; for years and years it has faithfully served the powers of hell; +enough, I say, of blood, enough of disgrace, enough of broken lives and +friendships; all things come to an end, the evil like the good; pestilence as +well as beautiful music; and as for this diamond, God forgive me if I do wrong, +but its empire ends to-night.” +</p> + +<p> +The Prince made a sudden movement with his hand, and the jewel, describing an +arc of light, dived with a splash into the flowing river. +</p> + +<p> +“Amen,” said Florizel with gravity. “I have slain a +cockatrice!” +</p> + +<p> +“God pardon me!” cried the detective. “What have you done? I +am a ruined man.” +</p> + +<p> +“I think,” returned the Prince with a smile, “that many +well-to-do people in this city might envy you your ruin.” +</p> + +<p> +“Alas! your Highness!” said the officer, “and you corrupt me +after all?” +</p> + +<p> +“It seems there was no help for it,” replied Florizel. “And +now let us go forward to the Prefecture.” +</p> + +<div class="gapspace"> </div> + +<p> +Not long after, the marriage of Francis Scrymgeour and Miss Vandeleur was +celebrated in great privacy; and the Prince acted on that occasion as +groomsman. The two Vandeleurs surprised some rumour of what had happened to the +diamond; and their vast diving operations on the River Seine are the wonder and +amusement of the idle. It is true that through some miscalculation they have +chosen the wrong branch of the river. As for the Prince, that sublime person, +having now served his turn, may go, along with the <i>Arabian Author</i>, +topsy-turvy into space. But if the reader insists on more specific information, +I am happy to say that a recent revolution hurled him from the throne of +Bohemia, in consequence of his continued absence and edifying neglect of public +business; and that his Highness now keeps a cigar store in Rupert Street, much +frequented by other foreign refugees. I go there from time to time to smoke and +have a chat, and find him as great a creature as in the days of his prosperity; +he has an Olympian air behind the counter; and although a sedentary life is +beginning to tell upon his waistcoat, he is probably, take him for all in all, +the handsomest tobacconist in London. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap10"></a>THE PAVILION ON THE LINKS</h2> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap11"></a>CHAPTER I<br/> +TELLS HOW I CAMPED IN GRADEN SEA-WOOD, AND BEHELD A LIGHT IN THE PAVILION</h3> + +<p> +I <span class="smcap">was</span> a great solitary when I was young. I made it +my pride to keep aloof and suffice for my own entertainment; and I may say that +I had neither friends nor acquaintances until I met that friend who became my +wife and the mother of my children. With one man only was I on private terms; +this was R. Northmour, Esquire, of Graden Easter, in Scotland. We had met at +college; and though there was not much liking between us, nor even much +intimacy, we were so nearly of a humour that we could associate with ease to +both. Misanthropes, we believed ourselves to be; but I have thought since that +we were only sulky fellows. It was scarcely a companionship, but a coexistence +in unsociability. Northmour’s exceptional violence of temper made it no +easy affair for him to keep the peace with any one but me; and as he respected +my silent ways, and let me come and go as I pleased, I could tolerate his +presence without concern. I think we called each other friends. +</p> + +<p> +When Northmour took his degree and I decided to leave the university without +one, he invited me on a long visit to Graden Easter; and it was thus that I +first became acquainted with the scene of my adventures. The mansion-house of +Graden stood in a bleak stretch of country some three miles from the shore of +the German Ocean. It was as large as a barrack; and as it had been built of a +soft stone, liable to consume in the eager air of the seaside, it was damp and +draughty within and half ruinous without. It was impossible for two young men +to lodge with comfort in such a dwelling. But there stood in the northern part +of the estate, in a wilderness of links and blowing sand-hills, and between a +plantation and the sea, a small Pavilion or Belvidere, of modern design, which +was exactly suited to our wants; and in this hermitage, speaking little, +reading much, and rarely associating except at meals, Northmour and I spent +four tempestuous winter months. I might have stayed longer; but one March night +there sprang up between us a dispute, which rendered my departure necessary. +Northmour spoke hotly, I remember, and I suppose I must have made some tart +rejoinder. He leaped from his chair and grappled me; I had to fight, without +exaggeration, for my life; and it was only with a great effort that I mastered +him, for he was near as strong in body as myself, and seemed filled with the +devil. The next morning, we met on our usual terms; but I judged it more +delicate to withdraw; nor did he attempt to dissuade me. +</p> + +<p> +It was nine years before I revisited the neighbourhood. I travelled at that +time with a tilt cart, a tent, and a cooking-stove, tramping all day beside the +waggon, and at night, whenever it was possible, gipsying in a cove of the +hills, or by the side of a wood. I believe I visited in this manner most of the +wild and desolate regions both in England and Scotland; and, as I had neither +friends nor relations, I was troubled with no correspondence, and had nothing +in the nature of headquarters, unless it was the office of my solicitors, from +whom I drew my income twice a year. It was a life in which I delighted; and I +fully thought to have grown old upon the march, and at last died in a ditch. +</p> + +<p> +It was my whole business to find desolate corners, where I could camp without +the fear of interruption; and hence, being in another part of the same shire, I +bethought me suddenly of the Pavilion on the Links. No thoroughfare passed +within three miles of it. The nearest town, and that was but a fisher village, +was at a distance of six or seven. For ten miles of length, and from a depth +varying from three miles to half a mile, this belt of barren country lay along +the sea. The beach, which was the natural approach, was full of quicksands. +Indeed I may say there is hardly a better place of concealment in the United +Kingdom. I determined to pass a week in the Sea-Wood of Graden Easter, and +making a long stage, reached it about sundown on a wild September day. +</p> + +<p> +The country, I have said, was mixed sand-hill and links; <i>links</i> being a +Scottish name for sand which has ceased drifting and become more or less +solidly covered with turf. The Pavilion stood on an even space; a little behind +it, the wood began in a hedge of elders huddled together by the wind; in front, +a few tumbled sand-hills stood between it and the sea. An outcropping of rock +had formed a bastion for the sand, so that there was here a promontory in the +coast-line between two shallow bays; and just beyond the tides, the rock again +cropped out and formed an islet of small dimensions but strikingly designed. +The quicksands were of great extent at low water, and had an infamous +reputation in the country. Close in shore, between the islet and the +promontory, it was said they would swallow a man in four minutes and a half; +but there may have been little ground for this precision. The district was +alive with rabbits, and haunted by gulls which made a continual piping about +the pavilion. On summer days the outlook was bright and even gladsome; but at +sundown in September, with a high wind, and a heavy surf rolling in close along +the links, the place told of nothing but dead mariners and sea disaster. A ship +beating to windward on the horizon, and a huge truncheon of wreck half buried +in the sands at my feet, completed the innuendo of the scene. +</p> + +<p> +The pavilion—it had been built by the last proprietor, Northmour’s +uncle, a silly and prodigal virtuoso—presented little signs of age. It +was two storeys in height, Italian in design, surrounded by a patch of garden +in which nothing had prospered but a few coarse flowers; and looked, with its +shuttered windows, not like a house that had been deserted, but like one that +had never been tenanted by man. Northmour was plainly from home; whether, as +usual, sulking in the cabin of his yacht, or in one of his fitful and +extravagant appearances in the world of society, I had, of course, no means of +guessing. The place had an air of solitude that daunted even a solitary like +myself; the wind cried in the chimneys with a strange and wailing note; and it +was with a sense of escape, as if I were going indoors, that I turned away and, +driving my cart before me, entered the skirts of the wood. +</p> + +<p> +The Sea-Wood of Graden had been planted to shelter the cultivated fields +behind, and check the encroachments of the blowing sand. As you advanced into +it from coastward, elders were succeeded by other hardy shrubs; but the timber +was all stunted and bushy; it led a life of conflict; the trees were accustomed +to swing there all night long in fierce winter tempests; and even in early +spring, the leaves were already flying, and autumn was beginning, in this +exposed plantation. Inland the ground rose into a little hill, which, along +with the islet, served as a sailing mark for seamen. When the hill was open of +the islet to the north, vessels must bear well to the eastward to clear Graden +Ness and the Graden Bullers. In the lower ground, a streamlet ran among the +trees, and, being dammed with dead leaves and clay of its own carrying, spread +out every here and there, and lay in stagnant pools. One or two ruined cottages +were dotted about the wood; and, according to Northmour, these were +ecclesiastical foundations, and in their time had sheltered pious hermits. +</p> + +<p> +I found a den, or small hollow, where there was a spring of pure water; and +there, clearing away the brambles, I pitched the tent, and made a fire to cook +my supper. My horse I picketed farther in the wood where there was a patch of +sward. The banks of the den not only concealed the light of my fire, but +sheltered me from the wind, which was cold as well as high. +</p> + +<p> +The life I was leading made me both hardy and frugal. I never drank but water, +and rarely ate anything more costly than oatmeal; and I required so little +sleep, that, although I rose with the peep of day, I would often lie long awake +in the dark or starry watches of the night. Thus in Graden Sea-Wood, although I +fell thankfully asleep by eight in the evening I was awake again before eleven +with a full possession of my faculties, and no sense of drowsiness or fatigue. +I rose and sat by the fire, watching the trees and clouds tumultuously tossing +and fleeing overhead, and hearkening to the wind and the rollers along the +shore; till at length, growing weary of inaction, I quitted the den, and +strolled towards the borders of the wood. A young moon, buried in mist, gave a +faint illumination to my steps; and the light grew brighter as I walked forth +into the links. At the same moment, the wind, smelling salt of the open ocean +and carrying particles of sand, struck me with its full force, so that I had to +bow my head. +</p> + +<p> +When I raised it again to look about me, I was aware of a light in the +pavilion. It was not stationary; but passed from one window to another, as +though some one were reviewing the different apartments with a lamp or candle. +</p> + +<p> +I watched it for some seconds in great surprise. When I had arrived in the +afternoon the house had been plainly deserted; now it was as plainly occupied. +It was my first idea that a gang of thieves might have broken in and be now +ransacking Northmour’s cupboards, which were many and not ill supplied. +But what should bring thieves to Graden Easter? And, again, all the shutters +had been thrown open, and it would have been more in the character of such +gentry to close them. I dismissed the notion, and fell back upon another. +Northmour himself must have arrived, and was now airing and inspecting the +pavilion. +</p> + +<p> +I have said that there was no real affection between this man and me; but, had +I loved him like a brother, I was then so much more in love with solitude that +I should none the less have shunned his company. As it was, I turned and ran +for it; and it was with genuine satisfaction that I found myself safely back +beside the fire. I had escaped an acquaintance; I should have one more night in +comfort. In the morning, I might either slip away before Northmour was abroad, +or pay him as short a visit as I chose. +</p> + +<p> +But when morning came, I thought the situation so diverting that I forgot my +shyness. Northmour was at my mercy; I arranged a good practical jest, though I +knew well that my neighbour was not the man to jest with in security; and, +chuckling beforehand over its success, took my place among the elders at the +edge of the wood, whence I could command the door of the pavilion. The shutters +were all once more closed, which I remember thinking odd; and the house, with +its white walls and green venetians, looked spruce and habitable in the morning +light. Hour after hour passed, and still no sign of Northmour. I knew him for a +sluggard in the morning; but, as it drew on towards noon, I lost my patience. +To say the truth, I had promised myself to break my fast in the pavilion, and +hunger began to prick me sharply. It was a pity to let the opportunity go by +without some cause for mirth; but the grosser appetite prevailed, and I +relinquished my jest with regret, and sallied from the wood. +</p> + +<p> +The appearance of the house affected me, as I drew near, with disquietude. It +seemed unchanged since last evening; and I had expected it, I scarce knew why, +to wear some external signs of habitation. But no: the windows were all closely +shuttered, the chimneys breathed no smoke, and the front door itself was +closely padlocked. Northmour, therefore, had entered by the back; this was the +natural and, indeed, the necessary conclusion; and you may judge of my surprise +when, on turning the house, I found the back door similarly secured. +</p> + +<p> +My mind at once reverted to the original theory of thieves; and I blamed myself +sharply for my last night’s inaction. I examined all the windows on the +lower storey, but none of them had been tampered with; I tried the padlocks, +but they were both secure. It thus became a problem how the thieves, if thieves +they were, had managed to enter the house. They must have got, I reasoned, upon +the roof of the outhouse where Northmour used to keep his photographic battery; +and from thence, either by the window of the study or that of my old bedroom, +completed their burglarious entry. +</p> + +<p> +I followed what I supposed was their example; and, getting on the roof, tried +the shutters of each room. Both were secure; but I was not to be beaten; and, +with a little force, one of them flew open, grazing, as it did so, the back of +my hand. I remember, I put the wound to my mouth, and stood for perhaps half a +minute licking it like a dog, and mechanically gazing behind me over the waste +links and the sea; and, in that space of time, my eye made note of a large +schooner yacht some miles to the north-east. Then I threw up the window and +climbed in. +</p> + +<p> +I went over the house, and nothing can express my mystification. There was no +sign of disorder, but, on the contrary, the rooms were unusually clean and +pleasant. I found fires laid, ready for lighting; three bedrooms prepared with +a luxury quite foreign to Northmour’s habits, and with water in the ewers +and the beds turned down; a table set for three in the dining-room; and an +ample supply of cold meats, game, and vegetables on the pantry shelves. There +were guests expected, that was plain; but why guests, when Northmour hated +society? And, above all, why was the house thus stealthily prepared at dead of +night? and why were the shutters closed and the doors padlocked? +</p> + +<p> +I effaced all traces of my visit, and came forth from the window feeling +sobered and concerned. +</p> + +<p> +The schooner yacht was still in the same place; and it flashed for a moment +through my mind that this might be the <i>Red Earl</i> bringing the owner of +the pavilion and his guests. But the vessel’s head was set the other way. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap12"></a>CHAPTER II<br/> +TELLS OF THE NOCTURNAL LANDING FROM THE YACHT</h3> + +<p> +I <span class="smcap">returned</span> to the den to cook myself a meal, of +which I stood in great need, as well as to care for my horse, whom I had +somewhat neglected in the morning. From time to time I went down to the edge of +the wood; but there was no change in the pavilion, and not a human creature was +seen all day upon the links. The schooner in the offing was the one touch of +life within my range of vision. She, apparently with no set object, stood off +and on or lay to, hour after hour; but as the evening deepened, she drew +steadily nearer. I became more convinced that she carried Northmour and his +friends, and that they would probably come ashore after dark; not only because +that was of a piece with the secrecy of the preparations, but because the tide +would not have flowed sufficiently before eleven to cover Graden Floe and the +other sea quags that fortified the shore against invaders. +</p> + +<p> +All day the wind had been going down, and the sea along with it; but there was +a return towards sunset of the heavy weather of the day before. The night set +in pitch dark. The wind came off the sea in squalls, like the firing of a +battery of cannon; now and then there was a flaw of rain, and the surf rolled +heavier with the rising tide. I was down at my observatory among the elders, +when a light was run up to the masthead of the schooner, and showed she was +closer in than when I had last seen her by the dying daylight. I concluded that +this must be a signal to Northmour’s associates on shore; and, stepping +forth into the links, looked around me for something in response. +</p> + +<p> +A small footpath ran along the margin of the wood, and formed the most direct +communication between the pavilion and the mansion-house; and, as I cast my +eyes to that side, I saw a spark of light, not a quarter of a mile away, and +rapidly approaching. From its uneven course it appeared to be the light of a +lantern carried by a person who followed the windings of the path, and was +often staggered and taken aback by the more violent squalls. I concealed myself +once more among the elders, and waited eagerly for the new-comer’s +advance. It proved to be a woman; and, as she passed within half a rod of my +ambush, I was able to recognise the features. The deaf and silent old dame, who +had nursed Northmour in his childhood, was his associate in this underhand +affair. +</p> + +<p> +I followed her at a little distance, taking advantage of the innumerable +heights and hollows, concealed by the darkness, and favoured not only by the +nurse’s deafness, but by the uproar of the wind and surf. She entered the +pavilion, and, going at once to the upper storey, opened and set a light in one +of the windows that looked towards the sea. Immediately afterwards the light at +the schooner’s masthead was run down and extinguished. Its purpose had +been attained, and those on board were sure that they were expected. The old +woman resumed her preparations; although the other shutters remained closed, I +could see a glimmer going to and fro about the house; and a gush of sparks from +one chimney after another soon told me that the fires were being kindled. +</p> + +<p> +Northmour and his guests, I was now persuaded, would come ashore as soon as +there was water on the floe. It was a wild night for boat service; and I felt +some alarm mingle with my curiosity as I reflected on the danger of the +landing. My old acquaintance, it was true, was the most eccentric of men; but +the present eccentricity was both disquieting and lugubrious to consider. A +variety of feelings thus led me towards the beach, where I lay flat on my face +in a hollow within six feet of the track that led to the pavilion. Thence, I +should have the satisfaction of recognising the arrivals, and, if they should +prove to be acquaintances, greeting them as soon as they had landed. +</p> + +<p> +Some time before eleven, while the tide was still dangerously low, a +boat’s lantern appeared close in shore; and, my attention being thus +awakened, I could perceive another still far to seaward, violently tossed, and +sometimes hidden by the billows. The weather, which was getting dirtier as the +night went on, and the perilous situation of the yacht upon a lee shore, had +probably driven them to attempt a landing at the earliest possible moment. +</p> + +<p> +A little afterwards, four yachtsmen carrying a very heavy chest, and guided by +a fifth with a lantern, passed close in front of me as I lay, and were admitted +to the pavilion by the nurse. They returned to the beach, and passed me a +second time with another chest, larger but apparently not so heavy as the +first. A third time they made the transit; and on this occasion one of the +yachtsmen carried a leather portmanteau, and the others a lady’s trunk +and carriage bag. My curiosity was sharply excited. If a woman were among the +guests of Northmour, it would show a change in his habits and an apostasy from +his pet theories of life, well calculated to fill me with surprise. When he and +I dwelt there together, the pavilion had been a temple of misogyny. And now, +one of the detested sex was to be installed under its roof. I remembered one or +two particulars, a few notes of daintiness and almost of coquetry which had +struck me the day before as I surveyed the preparations in the house; their +purpose was now clear, and I thought myself dull not to have perceived it from +the first. +</p> + +<p> +While I was thus reflecting, a second lantern drew near me from the beach. It +was carried by a yachtsman whom I had not yet seen, and who was conducting two +other persons to the pavilion. These two persons were unquestionably the guests +for whom the house was made ready; and, straining eye and ear, I set myself to +watch them as they passed. One was an unusually tall man, in a travelling hat +slouched over his eyes, and a highland cape closely buttoned and turned up so +as to conceal his face. You could make out no more of him than that he was, as +I have said, unusually tall, and walked feebly with a heavy stoop. By his side, +and either clinging to him or giving him support—I could not make out +which—was a young, tall, and slender figure of a woman. She was extremely +pale; but in the light of the lantern her face was so marred by strong and +changing shadows, that she might equally well have been as ugly as sin or as +beautiful as I afterwards found her to be. +</p> + +<p> +When they were just abreast of me, the girl made some remark which was drowned +by the noise of the wind. +</p> + +<p> +“Hush!” said her companion; and there was something in the tone +with which the word was uttered that thrilled and rather shook my spirits. It +seemed to breathe from a bosom labouring under the deadliest terror; I have +never heard another syllable so expressive; and I still hear it again when I am +feverish at night, and my mind runs upon old times. The man turned towards the +girl as he spoke; I had a glimpse of much red beard and a nose which seemed to +have been broken in youth; and his light eyes seemed shining in his face with +some strong and unpleasant emotion. +</p> + +<p> +But these two passed on and were admitted in their turn to the pavilion. +</p> + +<p> +One by one, or in groups, the seamen returned to the beach. The wind brought me +the sound of a rough voice crying, “Shove off!” Then, after a +pause, another lantern drew near. It was Northmour alone. +</p> + +<p> +My wife and I, a man and a woman, have often agreed to wonder how a person +could be, at the same time, so handsome and so repulsive as Northmour. He had +the appearance of a finished gentleman; his face bore every mark of +intelligence and courage; but you had only to look at him, even in his most +amiable moment, to see that he had the temper of a slaver captain. I never knew +a character that was both explosive and revengeful to the same degree; he +combined the vivacity of the south with the sustained and deadly hatreds of the +north; and both traits were plainly written on his face, which was a sort of +danger signal. In person he was tall, strong, and active; his hair and +complexion very dark; his features handsomely designed, but spoiled by a +menacing expression. +</p> + +<p> +At that moment he was somewhat paler than by nature; he wore a heavy frown; and +his lips worked, and he looked sharply round him as he walked, like a man +besieged with apprehensions. And yet I thought he had a look of triumph +underlying all, as though he had already done much, and was near the end of an +achievement. +</p> + +<p> +Partly from a scruple of delicacy—which I dare say came too +late—partly from the pleasure of startling an acquaintance, I desired to +make my presence known to him without delay. +</p> + +<p> +I got suddenly to my feet, and stepped forward. “Northmour!” said +I. +</p> + +<p> +I have never had so shocking a surprise in all my days. He leaped on me without +a word; something shone in his hand; and he struck for my heart with a dagger. +At the same moment I knocked him head over heels. Whether it was my quickness, +or his own uncertainty, I know not; but the blade only grazed my shoulder, +while the hilt and his fist struck me violently on the mouth. +</p> + +<p> +I fled, but not far. I had often and often observed the capabilities of the +sand-hills for protracted ambush or stealthy advances and retreats; and, not +ten yards from the scene of the scuffle, plumped down again upon the grass. The +lantern had fallen and gone out. But what was my astonishment to see Northmour +slip at a bound into the pavilion, and hear him bar the door behind him with a +clang of iron! +</p> + +<p> +He had not pursued me. He had run away. Northmour, whom I knew for the most +implacable and daring of men, had run away! I could scarce believe my reason; +and yet in this strange business, where all was incredible, there was nothing +to make a work about in an incredibility more or less. For why was the pavilion +secretly prepared? Why had Northmour landed with his guests at dead of night, +in half a gale of wind, and with the floe scarce covered? Why had he sought to +kill me? Had he not recognised my voice? I wondered. And, above all, how had he +come to have a dagger ready in his hand? A dagger, or even a sharp knife, +seemed out of keeping with the age in which we lived; and a gentleman landing +from his yacht on the shore of his own estate, even although it was at night +and with some mysterious circumstances, does not usually, as a matter of fact, +walk thus prepared for deadly onslaught. The more I reflected, the further I +felt at sea. I recapitulated the elements of mystery, counting them on my +fingers: the pavilion secretly prepared for guests; the guests landed at the +risk of their lives and to the imminent peril of the yacht; the guests, or at +least one of them, in undisguised and seemingly causeless terror; Northmour +with a naked weapon; Northmour stabbing his most intimate acquaintance at a +word; last, and not least strange, Northmour fleeing from the man whom he had +sought to murder, and barricading himself, like a hunted creature, behind the +door of the pavilion. Here were at least six separate causes for extreme +surprise; each part and parcel with the others, and forming all together one +consistent story. I felt almost ashamed to believe my own senses. +</p> + +<p> +As I thus stood, transfixed with wonder, I began to grow painfully conscious of +the injuries I had received in the scuffle; skulked round among the sand-hills; +and, by a devious path, regained the shelter of the wood. On the way, the old +nurse passed again within several yards of me, still carrying her lantern, on +the return journey to the mansion-house of Graden. This made a seventh +suspicious feature in the case—Northmour and his guests, it appeared, +were to cook and do the cleaning for themselves, while the old woman continued +to inhabit the big empty barrack among the policies. There must surely be great +cause for secrecy, when so many inconveniences were confronted to preserve it. +</p> + +<p> +So thinking, I made my way to the den. For greater security, I trod out the +embers of the fire, and lit my lantern to examine the wound upon my shoulder. +It was a trifling hurt, although it bled somewhat freely, and I dressed it as +well as I could (for its position made it difficult to reach) with some rag and +cold water from the spring. While I was thus busied, I mentally declared war +against Northmour and his mystery. I am not an angry man by nature, and I +believe there was more curiosity than resentment in my heart. But war I +certainly declared; and, by way of preparation, I got out my revolver, and, +having drawn the charges, cleaned and reloaded it with scrupulous care. Next I +became preoccupied about my horse. It might break loose, or fall to neighing, +and so betray my camp in the Sea-Wood. I determined to rid myself of its +neighbourhood; and long before dawn I was leading it over the links in the +direction of the fisher village. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap13"></a>CHAPTER III<br/> +TELLS HOW I BECAME ACQUAINTED WITH MY WIFE</h3> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">For</span> two days I skulked round the pavilion, profiting +by the uneven surface of the links. I became an adept in the necessary tactics. +These low hillocks and shallow dells, running one into another, became a kind +of cloak of darkness for my enthralling, but perhaps dishonourable, pursuit. +Yet, in spite of this advantage, I could learn but little of Northmour or his +guests. +</p> + +<p> +Fresh provisions were brought under cover of darkness by the old woman from the +mansion-house. Northmour, and the young lady, sometimes together, but more +often singly, would walk for an hour or two at a time on the beach beside the +quicksand. I could not but conclude that this promenade was chosen with an eye +to secrecy; for the spot was open only to the seaward. But it suited me not +less excellently; the highest and most accidented of the sand-hills immediately +adjoined; and from these, lying flat in a hollow, I could overlook Northmour or +the young lady as they walked. +</p> + +<p> +The tall man seemed to have disappeared. Not only did he never cross the +threshold, but he never so much as showed face at a window; or, at least, not +so far as I could see; for I dared not creep forward beyond a certain distance +in the day, since the upper floor commanded the bottoms of the links; and at +night, when I could venture farther, the lower windows were barricaded as if to +stand a siege. Sometimes I thought the tall man must be confined to bed, for I +remembered the feebleness of his gait; and sometimes I thought he must have +gone clear away, and that Northmour and the young lady remained alone together +in the pavilion. The idea, even then, displeased me. +</p> + +<p> +Whether or not this pair were man and wife, I had seen abundant reason to doubt +the friendliness of their relation. Although I could hear nothing of what they +said, and rarely so much as glean a decided expression on the face of either, +there was a distance, almost a stiffness, in their bearing which showed them to +be either unfamiliar or at enmity. The girl walked faster when she was with +Northmour than when she was alone; and I conceived that any inclination between +a man and a woman would rather delay than accelerate the step. Moreover, she +kept a good yard free of him, and trailed her umbrella, as if it were a +barrier, on the side between them. Northmour kept sidling closer; and, as the +girl retired from his advance, their course lay at a sort of diagonal across +the beach, and would have landed them in the surf had it been long enough +continued. But, when this was imminent, the girl would unostentatiously change +sides and put Northmour between her and the sea. I watched these manœuvres, for +my part, with high enjoyment and approval, and chuckled to myself at every +move. +</p> + +<p> +On the morning of the third day, she walked alone for some time, and I +perceived, to my great concern, that she was more than once in tears. You will +see that my heart was already interested more than I supposed. She had a firm +yet airy motion of the body, and carried her head with unimaginable grace; +every step was a thing to look at, and she seemed in my eyes to breathe +sweetness and distinction. +</p> + +<p> +The day was so agreeable, being calm and sunshiny, with a tranquil sea, and yet +with a healthful piquancy and vigour in the air, that, contrary to custom, she +was tempted forth a second time to walk. On this occasion she was accompanied +by Northmour, and they had been but a short while on the beach, when I saw him +take forcible possession of her hand. She struggled, and uttered a cry that was +almost a scream. I sprang to my feet, unmindful of my strange position; but, +ere I had taken a step, I saw Northmour bareheaded and bowing very low, as if +to apologise; and dropped again at once into my ambush. A few words were +interchanged; and then, with another bow, he left the beach to return to the +pavilion. He passed not far from me, and I could see him, flushed and lowering, +and cutting savagely with his cane among the grass. It was not without +satisfaction that I recognised my own handiwork in a great cut under his right +eye, and a considerable discolouration round the socket. +</p> + +<p> +For some time the girl remained where he had left her, looking out past the +islet and over the bright sea. Then with a start, as one who throws off +preoccupation and puts energy again upon its mettle, she broke into a rapid and +decisive walk. She also was much incensed by what had passed. She had forgotten +where she was. And I beheld her walk straight into the borders of the quicksand +where it is most abrupt and dangerous. Two or three steps farther and her life +would have been in serious jeopardy, when I slid down the face of the +sand-hill, which is there precipitous, and, running half-way forward, called to +her to stop. +</p> + +<p> +She did so, and turned round. There was not a tremor of fear in her behaviour, +and she marched directly up to me like a queen. I was barefoot, and clad like a +common sailor, save for an Egyptian scarf round my waist; and she probably took +me at first for some one from the fisher village, straying after bait. As for +her, when I thus saw her face to face, her eyes set steadily and imperiously +upon mine, I was filled with admiration and astonishment, and thought her even +more beautiful than I had looked to find her. Nor could I think enough of one +who, acting with so much boldness, yet preserved a maidenly air that was both +quaint and engaging; for my wife kept an old-fashioned precision of manner +through all her admirable life—an excellent thing in woman, since it sets +another value on her sweet familiarities. +</p> + +<p> +“What does this mean?” she asked. +</p> + +<p> +“You were walking,” I told her, “directly into Graden +Floe.” +</p> + +<p> +“You do not belong to these parts,” she said again. “You +speak like an educated man.” +</p> + +<p> +“I believe I have right to that name,” said I, “although in +this disguise.” +</p> + +<p> +But her woman’s eye had already detected the sash. “Oh!” she +said; “your sash betrays you.” +</p> + +<p> +“You have said the word <i>betray</i>,” I resumed. “May I ask +you not to betray me? I was obliged to disclose myself in your interest; but if +Northmour learned my presence it might be worse than disagreeable for +me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you know,” she asked, “to whom you are speaking?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not to Mr. Northmour’s wife?” I asked, by way of answer. +</p> + +<p> +She shook her head. All this while she was studying my face with an +embarrassing intentness. Then she broke out— +</p> + +<p> +“You have an honest face. Be honest like your face, sir, and tell me what +you want and what you are afraid of. Do you think I could hurt you? I believe +you have far more power to injure me! And yet you do not look unkind. What do +you mean—you, a gentleman—by skulking like a spy about this +desolate place? Tell me,” she said, “who is it you hate?” +</p> + +<p> +“I hate no one,” I answered; “and I fear no one face to face. +My name is Cassilis—Frank Cassilis. I lead the life of a vagabond for my +own good pleasure. I am one of Northmour’s oldest friends; and three +nights ago, when I addressed him on these links, he stabbed me in the shoulder +with a knife.” +</p> + +<p> +“It was you!” she said. +</p> + +<p> +“Why he did so,” I continued, disregarding the interruption, +“is more than I can guess, and more than I care to know. I have not many +friends, nor am I very susceptible to friendship; but no man shall drive me +from a place by terror. I had camped in Graden Sea-Wood ere he came; I camp in +it still. If you think I mean harm to you or yours, madam, the remedy is in +your hand. Tell him that my camp is in the Hemlock Den, and to-night he can +stab me in safety while I sleep.” +</p> + +<p> +With this I doffed my cap to her, and scrambled up once more among the +sand-hills. I do not know why, but I felt a prodigious sense of injustice, and +felt like a hero and a martyr; while, as a matter of fact, I had not a word to +say in my defence, nor so much as one plausible reason to offer for my conduct. +I had stayed at Graden out of a curiosity natural enough, but undignified; and +though there was another motive growing in along with the first, it was not one +which, at that period, I could have properly explained to the lady of my heart. +</p> + +<p> +Certainly, that night, I thought of no one else; and, though her whole conduct +and position seemed suspicious, I could not find it in my heart to entertain a +doubt of her integrity. I could have staked my life that she was clear of +blame, and, though all was dark at the present, that the explanation of the +mystery would show her part in these events to be both right and needful. It +was true, let me cudgel my imagination as I pleased, that I could invent no +theory of her relations to Northmour; but I felt none the less sure of my +conclusion because it was founded on instinct in place of reason, and, as I may +say, went to sleep that night with the thought of her under my pillow. +</p> + +<p> +Next day she came out about the same hour alone, and, as soon as the sand-hills +concealed her from the pavilion, drew nearer to the edge, and called me by name +in guarded tones. I was astonished to observe that she was deadly pale, and +seemingly under the influence of strong emotion. +</p> + +<p> +“Mr. Cassilis!” she cried; “Mr. Cassilis!” +</p> + +<p> +I appeared at once, and leaped down upon the beach. A remarkable air of relief +overspread her countenance as soon as she saw me. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh!” she cried, with a hoarse sound, like one whose bosom has been +lightened of a weight. And then, “Thank God you are still safe!” +she added; “I knew, if you were, you would be here.” (Was not this +strange? So swiftly and wisely does Nature prepare our hearts for these great +life-long intimacies, that both my wife and I had been given a presentiment on +this the second day of our acquaintance. I had even then hoped that she would +seek me; she had felt sure that she would find me.) “Do not,” she +went, on swiftly, “do not stay in this place. Promise me that you will +sleep no longer in that wood. You do not know how I suffer; all last night I +could not sleep for thinking of your peril.” +</p> + +<p> +“Peril?” I repeated. “Peril from whom? From Northmour?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not so,” she said. “Did you think I would tell him after +what you said?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not from Northmour?” I repeated. “Then how? From whom? I see +none to be afraid of.” +</p> + +<p> +“You must not ask me,” was her reply, “for I am not free to +tell you. Only believe me, and go hence—believe me, and go away quickly, +quickly, for your life!” +</p> + +<p> +An appeal to his alarm is never a good plan to rid oneself of a spirited young +man. My obstinacy was but increased by what she said, and I made it a point of +honour to remain. And her solicitude for my safety still more confirmed me in +the resolve. +</p> + +<p> +“You must not think me inquisitive, madam,” I replied; “but, +if Graden is so dangerous a place, you yourself perhaps remain here at some +risk.” +</p> + +<p> +She only looked at me reproachfully. +</p> + +<p> +“You and your father—” I resumed; but she interrupted me +almost with a gasp. +</p> + +<p> +“My father! How do you know that?” she cried. +</p> + +<p> +“I saw you together when you landed,” was my answer; and I do not +know why, but it seemed satisfactory to both of us, as indeed it was the truth. +“But,” I continued, “you need have no fear from me. I see you +have some reason to be secret, and, you may believe me, your secret is as safe +with me as if I were in Graden Floe. I have scarce spoken to any one for years; +my horse is my only companion, and even he, poor beast, is not beside me. You +see, then, you may count on me for silence. So tell me the truth, my dear young +lady, are you not in danger?” +</p> + +<p> +“Mr. Northmour says you are an honourable man,” she returned, +“and I believe it when I see you. I will tell you so much; you are right; +we are in dreadful, dreadful danger, and you share it by remaining where you +are.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah!” said I; “you have heard of me from Northmour? And he +gives me a good character?” +</p> + +<p> +“I asked him about you last night,” was her reply. “I +pretended,” she hesitated, “I pretended to have met you long ago, +and spoken to you of him. It was not true; but I could not help myself without +betraying you, and you had put me in a difficulty. He praised you +highly.” +</p> + +<p> +“And—you may permit me one question—does this danger come +from Northmour?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“From Mr. Northmour?” she cried. “Oh no; he stays with us to +share it.” +</p> + +<p> +“While you propose that I should run away?” I said. “You do +not rate me very high.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why should you stay?” she asked. “You are no friend of +ours.” +</p> + +<p> +I know not what came over me, for I had not been conscious of a similar +weakness since I was a child, but I was so mortified by this retort that my +eyes pricked and filled with tears, as I continued to gaze upon her face. +</p> + +<p> +“No, no,” she said, in a changed voice; “I did not mean the +words unkindly.” +</p> + +<p> +“It was I who offended,” I said; and I held out my hand with a look +of appeal that somehow touched her, for she gave me hers at once, and even +eagerly. I held it for awhile in mine, and gazed into her eyes. It was she who +first tore her hand away, and, forgetting all about her request and the promise +she had sought to extort, ran at the top of her speed, and without turning, +till she was out of sight. +</p> + +<p> +And then I knew that I loved her, and thought in my glad heart that +she—she herself—was not indifferent to my suit. Many a time she has +denied it in after days, but it was with a smiling and not a serious denial. +For my part, I am sure our hands would not have lain so closely in each other +if she had not begun to melt to me already. And, when all is said, it is no +great contention, since, by her own avowal, she began to love me on the morrow. +</p> + +<p> +And yet on the morrow very little took place. She came and called me down as on +the day before, upbraided me for lingering at Graden, and, when she found I was +still obdurate, began to ask me more particularly as to my arrival. I told her +by what series of accidents I had come to witness their disembarkation, and how +I had determined to remain, partly from the interest which had been wakened in +me by Northmour’s guests, and partly because of his own murderous attack. +As to the former, I fear I was disingenuous, and led her to regard herself as +having been an attraction to me from the first moment that I saw her on the +links. It relieves my heart to make this confession even now, when my wife is +with God, and already knows all things, and the honesty of my purpose even in +this; for while she lived, although it often pricked my conscience, I had never +the hardihood to undeceive her. Even a little secret, in such a married life as +ours, is like the rose-leaf which kept the Princess from her sleep. +</p> + +<p> +From this the talk branched into other subjects, and I told her much about my +lonely and wandering existence; she, for her part, giving ear, and saying +little. Although we spoke very naturally, and latterly on topics that might +seem indifferent, we were both sweetly agitated. Too soon it was time for her +to go; and we separated, as if by mutual consent, without shaking hands, for +both knew that, between us, it was no idle ceremony. +</p> + +<p> +The next, and that was the fourth day of our acquaintance, we met in the same +spot, but early in the morning, with much familiarity and yet much timidity on +either side. When she had once more spoken about my danger—and that, I +understood, was her excuse for coming—I, who had prepared a great deal of +talk during the night, began to tell her how highly I valued her kind interest, +and how no one had ever cared to hear about my life, nor had I ever cared to +relate it, before yesterday. Suddenly she interrupted me, saying with +vehemence— +</p> + +<p> +“And yet, if you knew who I was, you would not so much as speak to +me!” +</p> + +<p> +I told her such a thought was madness, and, little as we had met, I counted her +already a dear friend; but my protestations seemed only to make her more +desperate. +</p> + +<p> +“My father is in hiding!” she cried. +</p> + +<p> +“My dear,” I said, forgetting for the first time to add +“young lady,” “what do I care? If he were in hiding twenty +times over, would it make one thought of change in you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, but the cause!” she cried, “the cause! It +is—” she faltered for a second—“it is disgraceful to +us!” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap14"></a>CHAPTER IV<br/> +TELLS IN WHAT A STARTLING MANNER I LEARNED THAT I WAS NOT ALONE IN GRADEN +SEA-WOOD</h3> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">This</span> was my wife’s story, as I drew it from +her among tears and sobs. Her name was Clara Huddlestone: it sounded very +beautiful in my ears; but not so beautiful as that other name of Clara +Cassilis, which she wore during the longer and, I thank God, the happier +portion of her life. Her father, Bernard Huddlestone, had been a private banker +in a very large way of business. Many years before, his affairs becoming +disordered, he had been led to try dangerous, and at last criminal, expedients +to retrieve himself from ruin. All was in vain; he became more and more cruelly +involved, and found his honour lost at the same moment with his fortune. About +this period, Northmour had been courting his daughter with great assiduity, +though with small encouragement; and to him, knowing him thus disposed in his +favour, Bernard Huddlestone turned for help in his extremity. It was not merely +ruin and dishonour, nor merely a legal condemnation, that the unhappy man had +brought upon his head. It seems he could have gone to prison with a light +heart. What he feared, what kept him awake at night or recalled him from +slumber into frenzy, was some secret, sudden, and unlawful attempt upon his +life. Hence, he desired to bury his existence and escape to one of the islands +in the South Pacific, and it was in Northmour’s yacht, the <i>Red +Earl</i>, that he designed to go. The yacht picked them up clandestinely upon +the coast of Wales, and had once more deposited them at Graden, till she could +be refitted and provisioned for the longer voyage. Nor could Clara doubt that +her hand had been stipulated as the price of passage. For, although Northmour +was neither unkind nor even discourteous, he had shown himself in several +instances somewhat overbold in speech and manner. +</p> + +<p> +I listened, I need not say, with fixed attention, and put many questions as to +the more mysterious part. It was in vain. She had no clear idea of what the +blow was, nor of how it was expected to fall. Her father’s alarm was +unfeigned and physically prostrating, and he had thought more than once of +making an unconditional surrender to the police. But the scheme was finally +abandoned, for he was convinced that not even the strength of our English +prisons could shelter him from his pursuers. He had had many affairs with +Italy, and with Italians resident in London, in the later years of his +business; and these last, as Clara fancied, were somehow connected with the +doom that threatened him. He had shown great terror at the presence of an +Italian seaman on board the <i>Red Earl</i>, and had bitterly and repeatedly +accused Northmour in consequence. The latter had protested that Beppo (that was +the seaman’s name) was a capital fellow, and could be trusted to the +death; but Mr. Huddlestone had continued ever since to declare that all was +lost, that it was only a question of days, and that Beppo would be the ruin of +him yet. +</p> + +<p> +I regarded the whole story as the hallucination of a mind shaken by calamity. +He had suffered heavy loss by his Italian transactions; and hence the sight of +an Italian was hateful to him, and the principal part in his nightmare would +naturally enough be played by one of that nation. +</p> + +<p> +“What your father wants,” I said, “is a good doctor and some +calming medicine.” +</p> + +<p> +“But Mr. Northmour?” objected your mother. “He is untroubled +by losses, and yet he shares in this terror.” +</p> + +<p> +I could not help laughing at what I considered her simplicity. +</p> + +<p> +“My dear,” said I, “you have told me yourself what reward he +has to look for. All is fair in love, you must remember; and if Northmour +foments your father’s terrors, it is not at all because he is afraid of +any Italian man, but simply because he is infatuated with a charming English +woman.” +</p> + +<p> +She reminded me of his attack upon myself on the night of the disembarkation, +and this I was unable to explain. In short, and from one thing to another, it +was agreed between us, that I should set out at once for the fisher village, +Graden Wester, as it was called, look up all the newspapers I could find, and +see for myself if there seemed any basis of fact for these continued alarms. +The next morning, at the same hour and place, I was to make my report to Clara. +She said no more on that occasion about my departure; nor, indeed, did she make +it a secret that she clung to the thought of my proximity as something helpful +and pleasant; and, for my part, I could not have left her, if she had gone upon +her knees to ask it. +</p> + +<p> +I reached Graden Wester before ten in the forenoon; for in those days I was an +excellent pedestrian, and the distance, as I think I have said, was little over +seven miles; fine walking all the way upon the springy turf. The village is one +of the bleakest on that coast, which is saying much: there is a church in a +hollow; a miserable haven in the rocks, where many boats have been lost as they +returned from fishing; two or three score of stone houses arranged along the +beach and in two streets, one leading from the harbour, and another striking +out from it at right angles; and, at the corner of these two, a very dark and +cheerless tavern, by way of principal hotel. +</p> + +<p> +I had dressed myself somewhat more suitably to my station in life, and at once +called upon the minister in his little manse beside the graveyard. He knew me, +although it was more than nine years since we had met; and when I told him that +I had been long upon a walking tour, and was behind with the news, readily lent +me an armful of newspapers, dating from a month back to the day before. With +these I sought the tavern, and, ordering some breakfast, sat down to study the +“Huddlestone Failure.” +</p> + +<p> +It had been, it appeared, a very flagrant case. Thousands of persons were +reduced to poverty; and one in particular had blown out his brains as soon as +payment was suspended. It was strange to myself that, while I read these +details, I continued rather to sympathise with Mr. Huddlestone than with his +victims; so complete already was the empire of my love for my wife. A price was +naturally set upon the banker’s head; and, as the case was inexcusable +and the public indignation thoroughly aroused, the unusual figure of £750 +was offered for his capture. He was reported to have large sums of money in his +possession. One day, he had been heard of in Spain; the next, there was sure +intelligence that he was still lurking between Manchester and Liverpool, or +along the border of Wales; and the day after, a telegram would announce his +arrival in Cuba or Yucatan. But in all this there was no word of an Italian, +nor any sign of mystery. +</p> + +<p> +In the very last paper, however, there was one item not so clear. The +accountants who were charged to verify the failure had, it seemed, come upon +the traces of a very large number of thousands, which figured for some time in +the transactions of the house of Huddlestone; but which came from nowhere, and +disappeared in the same mysterious fashion. It was only once referred to by +name, and then under the initials “X. X.”; but it had plainly been +floated for the first time into the business at a period of great depression +some six years ago. The name of a distinguished Royal personage had been +mentioned by rumour in connection with this sum. “The cowardly +desperado”—such, I remember, was the editorial expression—was +supposed to have escaped with a large part of this mysterious fund still in his +possession. +</p> + +<p> +I was still brooding over the fact, and trying to torture it into some +connection with Mr. Huddlestone’s danger, when a man entered the tavern +and asked for some bread and cheese with a decided foreign accent. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Siete Italiano</i>?” said I. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Sì</i>, <i>signor</i>,” was his reply. +</p> + +<p> +I said it was unusually far north to find one of his compatriots; at which he +shrugged his shoulders, and replied that a man would go anywhere to find work. +What work he could hope to find at Graden Wester, I was totally unable to +conceive; and the incident struck so unpleasantly upon my mind, that I asked +the landlord, while he was counting me some change, whether he had ever before +seen an Italian in the village. He said he had once seen some Norwegians, who +had been shipwrecked on the other side of Graden Ness and rescued by the +lifeboat from Cauldhaven. +</p> + +<p> +“No!” said I; “but an Italian, like the man who has just had +bread and cheese.” +</p> + +<p> +“What?” cried he, “yon black-avised fellow wi’ the +teeth? Was he an I-talian? Weel, yon’s the first that ever I saw, +an’ I dare say he’s like to be the last.” +</p> + +<p> +Even as he was speaking, I raised my eyes, and, casting a glance into the +street, beheld three men in earnest conversation together, and not thirty yards +away. One of them was my recent companion in the tavern parlour; the other two, +by their handsome, sallow features and soft hats, should evidently belong to +the same race. A crowd of village children stood around them, gesticulating and +talking gibberish in imitation. The trio looked singularly foreign to the bleak +dirty street in which they were standing, and the dark grey heaven that +overspread them; and I confess my incredulity received at that moment a shock +from which it never recovered. I might reason with myself as I pleased, but I +could not argue down the effect of what I had seen, and I began to share in the +Italian terror. +</p> + +<p> +It was already drawing towards the close of the day before I had returned the +newspapers at the manse, and got well forward on to the links on my way home. I +shall never forget that walk. It grew very cold and boisterous; the wind sang +in the short grass about my feet; thin rain showers came running on the gusts; +and an immense mountain range of clouds began to arise out of the bosom of the +sea. It would be hard to imagine a more dismal evening; and whether it was from +these external influences, or because my nerves were already affected by what I +had heard and seen, my thoughts were as gloomy as the weather. +</p> + +<p> +The upper windows of the pavilion commanded a considerable spread of links in +the direction of Graden Wester. To avoid observation, it was necessary to hug +the beach until I had gained cover from the higher sand-hills on the little +headland, when I might strike across, through the hollows, for the margin of +the wood. The sun was about setting; the tide was low, and all the quicksands +uncovered; and I was moving along, lost in unpleasant thought, when I was +suddenly thunderstruck to perceive the prints of human feet. They ran parallel +to my own course, but low down upon the beach instead of along the border of +the turf; and, when I examined them, I saw at once, by the size and coarseness +of the impression, that it was a stranger to me and to those in the pavilion +who had recently passed that way. Not only so; but from the recklessness of the +course which he had followed, steering near to the most formidable portions of +the sand, he was as evidently a stranger to the country and to the ill-repute +of Graden beach. +</p> + +<p> +Step by step I followed the prints; until, a quarter of a mile farther, I +beheld them die away into the south-eastern boundary of Graden Floe. There, +whoever he was, the miserable man had perished. One or two gulls, who had, +perhaps, seen him disappear, wheeled over his sepulchre with their usual +melancholy piping. The sun had broken through the clouds by a last effort, and +coloured the wide level of quicksands with a dusky purple. I stood for some +time gazing at the spot, chilled and disheartened by my own reflections, and +with a strong and commanding consciousness of death. I remember wondering how +long the tragedy had taken, and whether his screams had been audible at the +pavilion. And then, making a strong resolution, I was about to tear myself +away, when a gust fiercer than usual fell upon this quarter of the beach, and I +saw now, whirling high in air, now skimming lightly across the surface of the +sands, a soft, black, felt hat, somewhat conical in shape, such as I had +remarked already on the heads of the Italians. +</p> + +<p> +I believe, but I am not sure, that I uttered a cry. The wind was driving the +hat shoreward, and I ran round the border of the floe to be ready against its +arrival. The gust fell, dropping the hat for a while upon the quicksand, and +then, once more freshening, landed it a few yards from where I stood. I seized +it with the interest you may imagine. It had seen some service; indeed, it was +rustier than either of those I had seen that day upon the street. The lining +was red, stamped with the name of the maker, which I have forgotten, and that +of the place of manufacture, <i>Venedig</i>. This (it is not yet forgotten) was +the name given by the Austrians to the beautiful city of Venice, then, and for +long after, a part of their dominions. +</p> + +<p> +The shock was complete. I saw imaginary Italians upon every side; and for the +first, and, I may say, for the last time in my experience, became overpowered +by what is called a panic terror. I knew nothing, that is, to be afraid of, and +yet I admit that I was heartily afraid; and it was with a sensible reluctance +that I returned to my exposed and solitary camp in the Sea-Wood. +</p> + +<p> +There I ate some cold porridge which had been left over from the night before, +for I was disinclined to make a fire; and, feeling strengthened and reassured, +dismissed all these fanciful terrors from my mind, and lay down to sleep with +composure. +</p> + +<p> +How long I may have slept it is impossible for me to guess; but I was awakened +at last by a sudden, blinding flash of light into my face. It woke me like a +blow. In an instant I was upon my knees. But the light had gone as suddenly as +it came. The darkness was intense. And, as it was blowing great guns from the +sea and pouring with rain, the noises of the storm effectually concealed all +others. +</p> + +<p> +It was, I dare say, half a minute before I regained my self-possession. But for +two circumstances, I should have thought I had been awakened by some new and +vivid form of nightmare. First, the flap of my tent, which I had shut carefully +when I retired, was now unfastened; and, second, I could still perceive, with a +sharpness that excluded any theory of hallucination, the smell of hot metal and +of burning oil. The conclusion was obvious. I had been wakened by some one +flashing a bull’s-eye lantern in my face. It had been but a flash, and +away. He had seen my face, and then gone. I asked myself the object of so +strange a proceeding, and the answer came pat. The man, whoever he was, had +thought to recognise me, and he had not. There was yet another question +unresolved; and to this, I may say, I feared to give an answer; if he had +recognised me, what would he have done? +</p> + +<p> +My fears were immediately diverted from myself, for I saw that I had been +visited in a mistake; and I became persuaded that some dreadful danger +threatened the pavilion. It required some nerve to issue forth into the black +and intricate thicket which surrounded and overhung the den; but I groped my +way to the links, drenched with rain, beaten upon and deafened by the gusts, +and fearing at every step to lay my hand upon some lurking adversary. The +darkness was so complete that I might have been surrounded by an army and yet +none the wiser, and the uproar of the gale so loud that my hearing was as +useless as my sight. +</p> + +<p> +For the rest of that night, which seemed interminably long, I patrolled the +vicinity of the pavilion, without seeing a living creature or hearing any noise +but the concert of the wind, the sea, and the rain. A light in the upper story +filtered through a cranny of the shutter, and kept me company till the approach +of dawn. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap15"></a>CHAPTER V<br/> +TELLS OF AN INTERVIEW BETWEEN NORTHMOUR, CLARA, AND MYSELF</h3> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">With</span> the first peep of day, I retired from the open +to my old lair among the sand-hills, there to await the coming of my wife. The +morning was grey, wild, and melancholy; the wind moderated before sunrise, and +then went about, and blew in puffs from the shore; the sea began to go down, +but the rain still fell without mercy. Over all the wilderness of links there +was not a creature to be seen. Yet I felt sure the neighbourhood was alive with +skulking foes. The light that had been so suddenly and surprisingly flashed +upon my face as I lay sleeping, and the hat that had been blown ashore by the +wind from over Graden Floe, were two speaking signals of the peril that +environed Clara and the party in the pavilion. +</p> + +<p> +It was, perhaps, half-past seven, or nearer eight, before I saw the door open, +and that dear figure come towards me in the rain. I was waiting for her on the +beach before she had crossed the sand-hills. +</p> + +<p> +“I have had such trouble to come!” she cried. “They did not +wish me to go walking in the rain.” +</p> + +<p> +“Clara,” I said, “you are not frightened!” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” said she, with a simplicity that filled my heart with +confidence. For my wife was the bravest as well as the best of women; in my +experience, I have not found the two go always together, but with her they did; +and she combined the extreme of fortitude with the most endearing and beautiful +virtues. +</p> + +<p> +I told her what had happened; and, though her cheek grew visibly paler, she +retained perfect control over her senses. +</p> + +<p> +“You see now that I am safe,” said I, in conclusion. “They do +not mean to harm me; for, had they chosen, I was a dead man last night.” +</p> + +<p> +She laid her hand upon my arm. +</p> + +<p> +“And I had no presentiment!” she cried. +</p> + +<p> +Her accent thrilled me with delight. I put my arm about her, and strained her +to my side; and, before either of us was aware, her hands were on my shoulders +and my lips upon her mouth. Yet up to that moment no word of love had passed +between us. To this day I remember the touch of her cheek, which was wet and +cold with the rain; and many a time since, when she has been washing her face, +I have kissed it again for the sake of that morning on the beach. Now that she +is taken from me, and I finish my pilgrimage alone, I recall our old +lovingkindnesses and the deep honesty and affection which united us, and my +present loss seems but a trifle in comparison. +</p> + +<p> +We may have thus stood for some seconds—for time passes quickly with +lovers—before we were startled by a peal of laughter close at hand. It +was not natural mirth, but seemed to be affected in order to conceal an angrier +feeling. We both turned, though I still kept my left arm about Clara’s +waist; nor did she seek to withdraw herself; and there, a few paces off upon +the beach, stood Northmour, his head lowered, his hands behind his back, his +nostrils white with passion. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! Cassilis!” he said, as I disclosed my face. +</p> + +<p> +“That same,” said I; for I was not at all put about. +</p> + +<p> +“And so, Miss Huddlestone,” he continued slowly but savagely, +“this is how you keep your faith to your father and to me? This is the +value you set upon your father’s life? And you are so infatuated with +this young gentleman that you must brave ruin, and decency, and common human +caution—” +</p> + +<p> +“Miss Huddlestone—” I was beginning to interrupt him, when +he, in his turn, cut in brutally— +</p> + +<p> +“You hold your tongue,” said he; “I am speaking to that +girl.” +</p> + +<p> +“That girl, as you call her, is my wife,” said I; and my wife only +leaned a little nearer, so that I knew she had affirmed my words. +</p> + +<p> +“Your what?” he cried. “You lie!” +</p> + +<p> +“Northmour,” I said, “we all know you have a bad temper, and +I am the last man to be irritated by words. For all that, I propose that you +speak lower, for I am convinced that we are not alone.” +</p> + +<p> +He looked round him, and it was plain my remark had in some degree sobered his +passion. “What do you mean?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +I only said one word: “Italians.” +</p> + +<p> +He swore a round oath, and looked at us, from one to the other. +</p> + +<p> +“Mr. Cassilis knows all that I know,” said my wife. +</p> + +<p> +“What I want to know,” he broke out, “is where the devil Mr. +Cassilis comes from, and what the devil Mr. Cassilis is doing here. You say you +are married; that I do not believe. If you were, Graden Floe would soon divorce +you; four minutes and a half, Cassilis. I keep my private cemetery for my +friends.” +</p> + +<p> +“It took somewhat longer,” said I, “for that Italian.” +</p> + +<p> +He looked at me for a moment half daunted, and then, almost civilly, asked me +to tell my story. “You have too much the advantage of me, +Cassilis,” he added. I complied of course; and he listened, with several +ejaculations, while I told him how I had come to Graden: that it was I whom he +had tried to murder on the night of landing; and what I had subsequently seen +and heard of the Italians. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” said he, when I had done, “it is here at last; there +is no mistake about that. And what, may I ask, do you propose to do?” +</p> + +<p> +“I propose to stay with you and lend a hand,” said I. +</p> + +<p> +“You are a brave man,” he returned, with a peculiar intonation. +</p> + +<p> +“I am not afraid,” said I. +</p> + +<p> +“And so,” he continued, “I am to understand that you two are +married? And you stand up to it before my face, Miss Huddlestone?” +</p> + +<p> +“We are not yet married,” said Clara; “but we shall be as +soon as we can.” +</p> + +<p> +“Bravo!” cried Northmour. “And the bargain? D—n it, +you’re not a fool, young woman; I may call a spade a spade with you. How +about the bargain? You know as well as I do what your father’s life +depends upon. I have only to put my hands under my coat-tails and walk away, +and his throat would he cut before the evening.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, Mr. Northmour,” returned Clara, with great spirit; “but +that is what you will never do. You made a bargain that was unworthy of a +gentleman; but you are a gentleman for all that, and you will never desert a +man whom you have begun to help.” +</p> + +<p> +“Aha!” said he. “You think I will give my yacht for nothing? +You think I will risk my life and liberty for love of the old gentleman; and +then, I suppose, be best man at the wedding, to wind up? Well,” he added, +with an odd smile, “perhaps you are not altogether wrong. But ask +Cassilis here. <i>He</i> knows me. Am I a man to trust? Am I safe and +scrupulous? Am I kind?” +</p> + +<p> +“I know you talk a great deal, and sometimes, I think, very +foolishly,” replied Clara, “but I know you are a gentleman, and I +am not the least afraid.” +</p> + +<p> +He looked at her with a peculiar approval and admiration; then, turning to me, +“Do you think I would give her up without a struggle, Frank?” said +he. “I tell you plainly, you look out. The next time we come to +blows—” +</p> + +<p> +“Will make the third,” I interrupted, smiling. +</p> + +<p> +“Aye, true; so it will,” he said. “I had forgotten. Well, the +third time’s lucky.” +</p> + +<p> +“The third time, you mean, you will have the crew of the <i>Red Earl</i> +to help,” I said. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you hear him?” he asked, turning to my wife. +</p> + +<p> +“I hear two men speaking like cowards,” said she. “I should +despise myself either to think or speak like that. And neither of you believe +one word that you are saying, which makes it the more wicked and silly.” +</p> + +<p> +“She’s a trump!” cried Northmour. “But she’s not +yet Mrs. Cassilis. I say no more. The present is not for me.” Then my +wife surprised me. +</p> + +<p> +“I leave you here,” she said suddenly. “My father has been +too long alone. But remember this: you are to be friends, for you are both good +friends to me.” +</p> + +<p> +She has since told me her reason for this step. As long as she remained, she +declares that we two would have continued to quarrel; and I suppose that she +was right, for when she was gone we fell at once into a sort of +confidentiality. +</p> + +<p> +Northmour stared after her as she went away over the sand-hill +</p> + +<p> +“She is the only woman in the world!” he exclaimed with an oath. +“Look at her action.” +</p> + +<p> +I, for my part, leaped at this opportunity for a little further light. +</p> + +<p> +“See here, Northmour,” said I; “we are all in a tight place, +are we not?” +</p> + +<p> +“I believe you, my boy,” he answered, looking me in the eyes, and +with great emphasis. “We have all hell upon us, that’s the truth. +You may believe me or not, but I’m afraid of my life.” +</p> + +<p> +“Tell me one thing,” said I. “What are they after, these +Italians? What do they want with Mr. Huddlestone?” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t you know?” he cried. “The black old scamp had<i> +carbonaro</i> funds on a deposit—two hundred and eighty thousand; and of +course he gambled it away on stocks. There was to have been a revolution in the +Tridentino, or Parma; but the revolution is off, and the whole wasp’s +nest is after Huddlestone. We shall all be lucky if we can save our +skins.” +</p> + +<p> +“The <i>carbonari</i>!” I exclaimed; “God help him +indeed!” +</p> + +<p> +“Amen!” said Northmour. “And now, look here: I have said that +we are in a fix; and, frankly, I shall be glad of your help. If I can’t +save Huddlestone, I want at least to save the girl. Come and stay in the +pavilion; and, there’s my hand on it, I shall act as your friend until +the old man is either clear or dead. But,” he added, “once that is +settled, you become my rival once again, and I warn you—mind +yourself.” +</p> + +<p> +“Done!” said I; and we shook hands. +</p> + +<p> +“And now let us go directly to the fort,” said Northmour; and he +began to lead the way through the rain. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap16"></a>CHAPTER VI<br/> +TELLS OF MY INTRODUCTION TO THE TALL MAN</h3> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">We</span> were admitted to the pavilion by Clara, and I was +surprised by the completeness and security of the defences. A barricade of +great strength, and yet easy to displace, supported the door against Any +violence from without; and the shutters of the dining-room, into which I was +led directly, and which was feebly illuminated by a lamp, were even more +elaborately fortified. The panels were strengthened by bars and cross-bars; and +these, in their turn, were kept in position by a system of braces and struts, +some abutting on the floor, some on the roof, and others, in fine, against the +opposite wall of the apartment. It was at once a solid and well-designed piece +of carpentry; and I did not seek to conceal my admiration. +</p> + +<p> +“I am the engineer,” said Northmour. “You remember the planks +in the garden? Behold them?” +</p> + +<p> +“I did not know you had so many talents,” said I. +</p> + +<p> +“Are you armed?” he continued, pointing to an array of guns and +pistols, all in admirable order, which stood in line against the wall or were +displayed upon the sideboard. +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you,” I returned; “I have gone armed since our last +encounter. But, to tell you the truth, I have had nothing to eat since early +yesterday evening.” +</p> + +<p> +Northmour produced some cold meat, to which I eagerly set myself, and a bottle +of good Burgundy, by which, wet as I was, I did not scruple to profit. I have +always been an extreme temperance man on principle; but it is useless to push +principle to excess, and on this occasion I believe that I finished +three-quarters of the bottle. As I ate, I still continued to admire the +preparations for defence. +</p> + +<p> +“We could stand a siege,” I said at length. +</p> + +<p> +“Ye-es,” drawled Northmour; “a very little one, per-haps. It +is not so much the strength of the pavilion I misdoubt; it is the doubled anger +that kills me. If we get to shooting, wild as the country is some one is sure +to hear it, and then—why then it’s the same thing, only different, +as they say: caged by law, or killed by <i>carbonari</i>. There’s the +choice. It is a devilish bad thing to have the law against you in this world, +and so I tell the old gentleman upstairs. He is quite of my way of +thinking.” +</p> + +<p> +“Speaking of that,” said I, “what kind of person is +he?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, he!” cried the other; “he’s a rancid fellow, as +far as he goes. I should like to have his neck wrung to-morrow by all the +devils in Italy. I am not in this affair for him. You take me? I made a bargain +for Missy’s hand, and I mean to have it too.” +</p> + +<p> +“That by the way,” said I. “I understand. But how will Mr. +Huddlestone take my intrusion?” +</p> + +<p> +“Leave that to Clara,” returned Northmour. +</p> + +<p> +I could have struck him in the face for this coarse familiarity; but I +respected the truce, as, I am bound to say, did Northmour, and so long as the +danger continued not a cloud arose in our relation. I bear him this testimony +with the most unfeigned satisfaction; nor am I without pride when I look back +upon my own behaviour. For surely no two men were ever left in a position so +invidious and irritating. +</p> + +<p> +As soon as I had done eating, we proceeded to inspect the lower floor. Window +by window we tried the different supports, now and then making an +inconsiderable change; and the strokes of the hammer sounded with startling +loudness through the house. I proposed, I remember, to make loop-holes; but he +told me they were already made in the windows of the upper story. It was an +anxious business this inspection, and left me down-hearted. There were two +doors and five windows to protect, and, counting Clara, only four of us to +defend them against an unknown number of foes. I communicated my doubts to +Northmour, who assured me, with unmoved composure, that he entirely shared +them. +</p> + +<p> +“Before morning,” said he, “we shall all be butchered and +buried in Graden Floe. For me, that is written.” +</p> + +<p> +I could not help shuddering at the mention of the quicksand, but reminded +Northmour that our enemies had spared me in the wood. +</p> + +<p> +“Do not flatter yourself,” said he. “Then you were not in the +same boat with the old gentleman; now you are. It’s the floe for all of +us, mark my words.” +</p> + +<p> +I trembled for Clara; and just then her dear voice was heard calling us to come +upstairs. Northmour showed me the way, and, when he had reached the landing, +knocked at the door of what used to be called <i>My Uncle’s Bedroom</i>, +as the founder of the pavilion had designed it especially for himself. +</p> + +<p> +“Come in, Northmour; come in, dear Mr. Cassilis,” said a voice from +within. +</p> + +<p> +Pushing open the door, Northmour admitted me before him into the apartment. As +I came in I could see the daughter slipping out by the side door into the +study, which had been prepared as her bedroom. In the bed, which was drawn back +against the wall, instead of standing, as I had last seen it, boldly across the +window, sat Bernard Huddlestone, the defaulting banker. Little as I had seen of +him by the shifting light of the lantern on the links, I had no difficulty in +recognising him for the same. He had a long and sallow countenance, surrounded +by a long red beard and side whiskers. His broken nose and high cheekbones gave +him somewhat the air of a Kalmuck, and his light eyes shone with the excitement +of a high fever. He wore a skull-cap of black silk; a huge Bible lay open +before him on the bed, with a pair of gold spectacles in the place, and a pile +of other books lay on the stand by his side. The green curtains lent a +cadaverous shade to his cheek; and, as he sat propped on pillows, his great +stature was painfully hunched, and his head protruded till it overhung his +knees. I believe if he had not died otherwise, he must have fallen a victim to +consumption in the course of but a very few weeks. +</p> + +<p> +He held out to me a hand, long, thin, and disagreeably hairy. +</p> + +<p> +“Come in, come in, Mr. Cassilis,” said he. “Another +protector—ahem!—another protector. Always welcome as a friend of my +daughter’s, Mr. Cassilis. How they have rallied about me, my +daughter’s friends! May God in heaven bless and reward them for +it!” +</p> + +<p> +I gave him my hand, of course, because I could not help it; but the sympathy I +had been prepared to feel for Clara’s father was immediately soured by +his appearance, and the wheedling, unreal tones in which he spoke. +</p> + +<p> +“Cassilis is a good man,” said Northmour; “worth ten.” +</p> + +<p> +“So I hear,” cried Mr. Huddlestone eagerly “so my girl tells +me. Ah, Mr. Cassilis, my sin has found me out, you see! I am very low, very +low; but I hope equally penitent. We must all come to the throne of grace at +last, Mr. Cassilis. For my part, I come late indeed; but with unfeigned +humility, I trust.” +</p> + +<p> +“Fiddle-de-dee!” said Northmour roughly. +</p> + +<p> +“No, no, dear Northmour!” cried the banker. “You must not say +that; you must not try to shake me. You forget, my dear, good boy, you forget I +may be called this very night before my Maker.” +</p> + +<p> +His excitement was pitiful to behold; and I felt myself grow indignant with +Northmour, whose infidel opinions I well knew, and heartily derided, as he +continued to taunt the poor sinner out of his humour of repentance. +</p> + +<p> +“Pooh, my dear Huddlestone!” said he. “You do yourself +injustice. You are a man of the world inside and out, and were up to all kinds +of mischief before I was born. Your conscience is tanned like South American +leather—only you forgot to tan your liver, and that, if you will believe +me, is the seat of the annoyance.” +</p> + +<p> +“Rogue, rogue! bad boy!” said Mr. Huddlestone, shaking his finger. +“I am no precisian, if you come to that; I always hated a precisian; but +I never lost hold of something better through it all. I have been a bad boy, +Mr. Cassilis; I do not seek to deny that; but it was after my wife’s +death, and you know, with a widower, it’s a different thing: +sinful—I won’t say no; but there is a gradation, we shall hope. And +talking of that—Hark!” he broke out suddenly, his hand raised, his +fingers spread, his face racked with interest and terror. “Only the rain, +bless God!” he added, after a pause, and with indescribable relief. +</p> + +<p> +For some seconds he lay back among the pillows like a man near to fainting; +then he gathered himself together, and, in somewhat tremulous tones, began once +more to thank me for the share I was prepared to take in his defence. +</p> + +<p> +“One question, sir,” said I, when he had paused. “Is it true +that you have money with you?” +</p> + +<p> +He seemed annoyed by the question, but admitted with reluctance that he had a +little. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” I continued, “it is their money they are after, is it +not? Why not give it up to them?” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah!” replied he, shaking his head, “I have tried that +already, Mr. Cassilis; and alas that it should be so! but it is blood they +want.” +</p> + +<p> +“Huddlestone, that’s a little less than fair,” said +Northmour. “You should mention that what you offered them was upwards of +two hundred thousand short. The deficit is worth a reference; it is for what +they call a cool sum, Frank. Then, you see, the fellows reason in their clear +Italian way; and it seems to them, as indeed it seems to me, that they may just +as well have both while they’re about it—money and blood together, +by George, and no more trouble for the extra pleasure.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is it in the pavilion?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“It is; and I wish it were in the bottom of the sea instead,” said +Northmour; and then suddenly—“What are you making faces at me +for?” he cried to Mr. Huddlestone, on whom I had unconsciously turned my +back. “Do you think Cassilis would sell you?” +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Huddlestone protested that nothing had been further from his mind. +</p> + +<p> +“It is a good thing,” retorted Northmour in his ugliest manner. +“You might end by wearying us. What were you going to say?” he +added, turning to me. +</p> + +<p> +“I was going to propose an occupation for the afternoon,” said I. +“Let us carry that money out, piece by piece, and lay it down before the +pavilion door. If the <i>carbonari</i> come, why, it’s theirs at any +rate.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, no,” cried Mr. Huddlestone; “it does not, it cannot +belong to them! It should be distributed <i>pro rata</i> among all my +creditors.” +</p> + +<p> +“Come now, Huddlestone,” said Northmour, “none of +that.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, but my daughter,” moaned the wretched man. +</p> + +<p> +“Your daughter will do well enough. Here are two suitors, Cassilis and I, +neither of us beggars, between whom she has to choose. And as for yourself, to +make an end of arguments, you have no right to a farthing, and, unless +I’m much mistaken, you are going to die.” +</p> + +<p> +It was certainly very cruelly said; but Mr. Huddlestone was a man who attracted +little sympathy; and, although I saw him wince and shudder, I mentally endorsed +the rebuke; nay, I added a contribution of my own. +</p> + +<p> +“Northmour and I,” I said, “are willing enough to help you to +save your life, but not to escape with stolen property.” +</p> + +<p> +He struggled for a while with himself, as though he were on the point of giving +way to anger, but prudence had the best of the controversy. +</p> + +<p> +“My dear boys,” he said, “do with me or my money what you +will. I leave all in your hands. Let me compose myself.” +</p> + +<p> +And so we left him, gladly enough I am sure. The last that I saw, he had once +more taken up his great Bible, and with tremulous hands was adjusting his +spectacles to read. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap17"></a>CHAPTER VII<br/> +TELLS HOW A WORD WAS CRIED THROUGH THE PAVILION WINDOW</h3> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">The</span> recollection of that afternoon will always be +graven on my mind. Northmour and I were persuaded that an attack was imminent; +and if it had been in our power to alter in any way the order of events, that +power would have been used to precipitate rather than delay the critical +moment. The worst was to be anticipated; yet we could conceive no extremity so +miserable as the suspense we were now suffering. I have never been an eager, +though always a great, reader; but I never knew books so insipid as those which +I took up and cast aside that afternoon in the pavilion. Even talk became +impossible, as the hours went on. One or other was always listening for some +sound, or peering from an upstairs window over the links. And yet not a sign +indicated the presence of our foes. +</p> + +<p> +We debated over and over again my proposal with regard to the money; and had we +been in complete possession of our faculties, I am sure we should have +condemned it as unwise; but we were flustered with alarm, grasped at a straw, +and determined, although it was as much as advertising Mr. Huddlestone’s +presence in the pavilion, to carry my proposal into effect. +</p> + +<p> +The sum was part in specie, part in bank paper, and part in circular notes +payable to the name of James Gregory. We took it out, counted it, enclosed it +once more in a despatch-box belonging to Northmour, and prepared a letter in +Italian which he tied to the handle. It was signed by both of us under oath, +and declared that this was all the money which had escaped the failure of the +house of Huddlestone. This was, perhaps, the maddest action ever perpetrated by +two persons professing to be sane. Had the despatch-box fallen into other hands +than those for which it was intended, we stood criminally convicted on our own +written testimony; but, as I have said, we were neither of us in a condition to +judge soberly, and had a thirst for action that drove us to do something, right +or wrong, rather than endure the agony of waiting. Moreover, as we were both +convinced that the hollows of the links were alive with hidden spies upon our +movements, we hoped that our appearance with the box might lead to a parley, +and, perhaps, a compromise. +</p> + +<p> +It was nearly three when we issued from the pavilion. The rain had taken off; +the sun shone quite cheerfully. +</p> + +<p> +I have never seen the gulls fly so close about the house or approach so +fearlessly to human beings. On the very doorstep one flapped heavily past our +heads, and uttered its wild cry in my very ear. +</p> + +<p> +“There is an omen for you,” said Northmour, who like all +freethinkers was much under the influence of superstition. “They think we +are already dead.” +</p> + +<p> +I made some light rejoinder, but it was with half my heart; for the +circumstance had impressed me. +</p> + +<p> +A yard or two before the gate, on a patch of smooth turf, we set down the +despatch-box; and Northmour waved a white handkerchief over his head. Nothing +replied. We raised our voices, and cried aloud in Italian that we were there as +ambassadors to arrange the quarrel; but the stillness remained unbroken save by +the sea-gulls and the surf. I had a weight at my heart when we desisted; and I +saw that even Northmour was unusually pale. He looked over his shoulder +nervously, as though he feared that some one had crept between him and the +pavilion door. +</p> + +<p> +“By God,” he said in a whisper, “this is too much for +me!” +</p> + +<p> +I replied in the same key: “Suppose there should be none, after +all!” +</p> + +<p> +“Look there,” he returned, nodding with his head, as though he had +been afraid to point. +</p> + +<p> +I glanced in the direction indicated; and there, from the northern quarter of +the Sea-Wood, beheld a thin column of smoke rising steadily against the now +cloudless sky. +</p> + +<p> +“Northmour,” I said (we still continued to talk in whispers), +“it is not possible to endure this suspense. I prefer death fifty times +over. Stay you here to watch the pavilion; I will go forward and make sure, if +I have to walk right into their camp.” +</p> + +<p> +He looked once again all round him with puckered eyes, and then nodded +assentingly to my proposal. +</p> + +<p> +My heart beat like a sledge-hammer as I set out walking rapidly in the +direction of the smoke; and, though up to that moment I had felt chill and +shivering, I was suddenly conscious of a glow of heat over all my body. The +ground in this direction was very uneven; a hundred men might have lain hidden +in as many square yards about my path. But I had not practised the business in +vain, chose such routes as cut at the very root of concealment, and, by keeping +along the most convenient ridges, commanded several hollows at a time. It was +not long before I was rewarded for my caution. Coming suddenly on to a mound +somewhat more elevated than the surrounding hummocks, I saw, not thirty yards +away, a man bent almost double, and running as fast as his attitude permitted, +along the bottom of a gully. I had dislodged one of the spies from his ambush. +As soon as I sighted him, I called loudly both in English and Italian; and he, +seeing concealment was no longer possible, straightened himself out, leaped +from the gully, and made off as straight as an arrow for the borders of the +wood. +</p> + +<p> +It was none of my business to pursue; I had learned what I wanted—that we +were beleaguered and watched in the pavilion; and I returned at once, and +walking as nearly as possible in my old footsteps, to where Northmour awaited +me beside the despatch-box. He was even paler than when I had left him, and his +voice shook a little. +</p> + +<p> +“Could you see what he was like?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“He kept his back turned,” I replied. +</p> + +<p> +“Let us get into the house, Frank. I don’t think I’m a +coward, but I can stand no more of this,” he whispered. +</p> + +<p> +All was still and sunshiny about the pavilion as we turned to re-enter it; even +the gulls had flown in a wider circuit, and were seen flickering along the +beach and sand-hills; and this loneliness terrified me more than a regiment +under arms. It was not until the door was barricaded that I could draw a full +inspiration and relieve the weight that lay upon my bosom. Northmour and I +exchanged a steady glance; and I suppose each made his own reflections on the +white and startled aspect of the other. +</p> + +<p> +“You were right,” I said. “All is over. Shake hands, old man, +for the last time.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” replied he, “I will shake hands; for, as sure as I am +here, I bear no malice. But, remember, if, by some impossible accident, we +should give the slip to these blackguards, I’ll take the upper hand of +you by fair or foul.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh,” said I, “you weary me!” +</p> + +<p> +He seemed hurt, and walked away in silence to the foot of the stairs, where he +paused. +</p> + +<p> +“You do not understand,” said he. “I am not a swindler, and I +guard myself; that is all. It may weary you or not, Mr. Cassilis, I do not care +a rush; I speak for my own satisfaction, and not for your amusement. You had +better go upstairs and court the girl; for my part, I stay here.” +</p> + +<p> +“And I stay with you,” I returned. “Do you think I would +steal a march, even with your permission?” +</p> + +<p> +“Frank,” he said, smiling, “it’s a pity you are an ass, +for you have the makings of a man. I think I must be <i>fey</i> to-day; you +cannot irritate me even when you try. Do you know,” he continued softly, +“I think we are the two most miserable men in England, you and I? we have +got on to thirty without wife or child, or so much as a shop to look +after—poor, pitiful, lost devils, both! And now we clash about a girl! As +if there were not several millions in the United Kingdom! Ah, Frank, Frank, the +one who loses this throw, be it you or me, he has my pity! It were better for +him—how does the Bible say?—that a millstone were hanged about his +neck and he were cast into the depth of the sea. Let us take a drink,” he +concluded suddenly, but without any levity of tone. +</p> + +<p> +I was touched by his words, and consented. He sat down on the table in the +dining-room, and held up the glass of sherry to his eye. +</p> + +<p> +“If you beat me, Frank,” he said, “I shall take to drink. +What will you do, if it goes the other way?” +</p> + +<p> +“God knows,” I returned. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” said he, “here is a toast in the meantime: +‘<i>Italia irredenta</i>!’” +</p> + +<p> +The remainder of the day was passed in the same dreadful tedium and suspense. I +laid the table for dinner, while Northmour and Clara prepared the meal together +in the kitchen. I could hear their talk as I went to and fro, and was surprised +to find it ran all the time upon myself. Northmour again bracketed us together, +and rallied Clara on a choice of husbands; but he continued to speak of me with +some feeling, and uttered nothing to my prejudice unless he included himself in +the condemnation. This awakened a sense of gratitude in my heart, which +combined with the immediateness of our peril to fill my eyes with tears. After +all, I thought—and perhaps the thought was laughably vain—we were +here three very noble human beings to perish in defence of a thieving banker. +</p> + +<p> +Before we sat down to table, I looked forth from an upstairs window. The day +was beginning to decline; the links were utterly deserted; the despatch-box +still lay untouched where we had left it hours before. +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Huddlestone, in a long yellow dressing-gown, took one end of the table, +Clara the other; while Northmour and I faced each other from the sides. The +lamp was brightly trimmed; the wine was good; the viands, although mostly cold, +excellent of their sort. We seemed to have agreed tacitly; all reference to the +impending catastrophe was carefully avoided; and, considering our tragic +circumstances, we made a merrier party than could have been expected. From time +to time, it is true, Northmour or I would rise from table and make a round of +the defences; and, on each of these occasions, Mr. Huddlestone was recalled to +a sense of his tragic predicament, glanced up with ghastly eyes, and bore for +an instant on his countenance the stamp of terror. But he hastened to empty his +glass, wiped his forehead with his handkerchief, and joined again in the +conversation. +</p> + +<p> +I was astonished at the wit and information he displayed. Mr. +Huddlestone’s was certainly no ordinary character; he had read and +observed for himself; his gifts were sound; and, though I could never have +learned to love the man, I began to understand his success in business, and the +great respect in which he had been held before his failure. He had, above all, +the talent of society; and though I never heard him speak but on this one and +most unfavourable occasion, I set him down among the most brilliant +conversationalists I ever met. +</p> + +<p> +He was relating with great gusto, and seemingly no feeling of shame, the +manœuvres of a scoundrelly commission merchant whom he had known and studied in +his youth, and we were all listening with an odd mixture of mirth and +embarrassment when our little party was brought abruptly to an end in the most +startling manner. +</p> + +<p> +A noise like that of a wet finger on the window-pane interrupted Mr. +Huddlestone’s tale; and in an instant we were all four as white as paper, +and sat tongue-tied and motionless round the table. +</p> + +<p> +“A snail,” I said at last; for I had heard that these animals make +a noise somewhat similar in character. +</p> + +<p> +“Snail be d—d!” said Northmour. “Hush!” +</p> + +<p> +The same sound was repeated twice at regular intervals; and then a formidable +voice shouted through the shutters the Italian word +“<i>Traditore</i>!” +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Huddlestone threw his head in the air; his eyelids quivered; next moment he +fell insensible below the table. Northmour and I had each run to the armoury +and seized a gun. Clara was on her feet with her hand at her throat. +</p> + +<p> +So we stood waiting, for we thought the hour of attack was certainly come; but +second passed after second, and all but the surf remained silent in the +neighbourhood of the pavilion. +</p> + +<p> +“Quick,” said Northmour; “upstairs with him before they +come.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap18"></a>CHAPTER VIII<br/> +TELLS THE LAST OF THE TALL MAN</h3> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">Somehow</span> or other, by hook and crook, and between the +three of us, we got Bernard Huddlestone bundled upstairs and laid upon the bed +in <i>My Uncle’s Room</i>. During the whole process, which was rough +enough, he gave no sign of consciousness, and he remained, as we had thrown +him, without changing the position of a finger. His daughter opened his shirt +and began to wet his head and bosom; while Northmour and I ran to the window. +The weather continued clear; the moon, which was now about full, had risen and +shed a very clear light upon the links; yet, strain our eyes as we might, we +could distinguish nothing moving. A few dark spots, more or less, on the uneven +expanse were not to be identified; they might be crouching men, they might be +shadows; it was impossible to be sure. +</p> + +<p> +“Thank God,” said Northmour, “Aggie is not coming +to-night.” +</p> + +<p> +Aggie was the name of the old nurse; he had not thought of her till now; but +that he should think of her at all, was a trait that surprised me in the man. +</p> + +<p> +We were again reduced to waiting. Northmour went to the fireplace and spread +his hands before the red embers, as if he were cold. I followed him +mechanically with my eyes, and in so doing turned my back upon the window. At +that moment a very faint report was audible from without, and a ball shivered a +pane of glass, and buried itself in the shutter two inches from my head. I +heard Clara scream; and though I whipped instantly out of range and into a +corner, she was there, so to speak, before me, beseeching to know if I were +hurt. I felt that I could stand to be shot at every day and all day long, with +such marks of solicitude for a reward; and I continued to reassure her, with +the tenderest caresses and in complete forgetfulness of our situation, till the +voice of Northmour recalled me to myself. +</p> + +<p> +“An air-gun,” he said. “They wish to make no noise.” +</p> + +<p> +I put Clara aside, and looked at him. He was standing with his back to the fire +and his hands clasped behind him; and I knew by the black look on his face, +that passion was boiling within. I had seen just such a look before he attacked +me, that March night, in the adjoining chamber; and, though I could make every +allowance for his anger, I confess I trembled for the consequences. He gazed +straight before him; but he could see us with the tail of his eye, and his +temper kept rising like a gale of wind. With regular battle awaiting us +outside, this prospect of an internecine strife within the walls began to daunt +me. +</p> + +<p> +Suddenly, as I was thus closely watching his expression and prepared against +the worst, I saw a change, a flash, a look of relief, upon his face. He took up +the lamp which stood beside him on the table, and turned to us with an air of +some excitement. +</p> + +<p> +“There is one point that we must know,” said he. “Are they +going to butcher the lot of us, or only Huddlestone? Did they take you for him, +or fire at you for your own <i>beaux yeux</i>?” +</p> + +<p> +“They took me for him, for certain,” I replied. “I am near as +tall, and my head is fair.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am going to make sure,” returned Northmour; and he stepped up to +the window, holding the lamp above his head, and stood there, quietly +affronting death, for half a minute. +</p> + +<p> +Clara sought to rush forward and pull him from the place of danger; but I had +the pardonable selfishness to hold her back by force. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” said Northmour, turning coolly from the window; +“it’s only Huddlestone they want.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, Mr. Northmour!” cried Clara; but found no more to add; the +temerity she had just witnessed seeming beyond the reach of words. +</p> + +<p> +He, on his part, looked at me, cocking his head, with a fire of triumph in his +eyes; and I understood at once that he had thus hazarded his life, merely to +attract Clara’s notice, and depose me from my position as the hero of the +hour. He snapped his fingers. +</p> + +<p> +“The fire is only beginning,” said he. “When they warm up to +their work, they won’t be so particular.” +</p> + +<p> +A voice was now heard hailing us from the entrance. From the window we could +see the figure of a man in the moonlight; he stood motionless, his face +uplifted to ours, and a rag of something white on his extended arm; and as we +looked right down upon him, though he was a good many yards distant on the +links, we could see the moonlight glitter on his eyes. +</p> + +<p> +He opened his lips again, and spoke for some minutes on end, in a key so loud +that he might have been heard in every corner of the pavilion, and as far away +as the borders of the wood. It was the same voice that had already shouted +“<i>Traditore</i>!” through the shutters of the dining-room; this +time it made a complete and clear statement. If the traitor +“Oddlestone” were given up, all others should be spared; if not, no +one should escape to tell the tale. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, Huddlestone, what do you say to that?” asked Northmour, +turning to the bed. +</p> + +<p> +Up to that moment the banker had given no sign of life, and I, at least, had +supposed him to be still lying in a faint; but he replied at once, and in such +tones as I have never heard elsewhere, save from a delirious patient, adjured +and besought us not to desert him. It was the most hideous and abject +performance that my imagination can conceive. +</p> + +<p> +“Enough,” cried Northmour; and then he threw open the window, +leaned out into the night, and in a tone of exultation, and with a total +forgetfulness of what was due to the presence of a lady, poured out upon the +ambassador a string of the most abominable raillery both in English and +Italian, and bade him be gone where he had come from. I believe that nothing so +delighted Northmour at that moment as the thought that we must all infallibly +perish before the night was out. +</p> + +<p> +Meantime the Italian put his flag of truce into his pocket, and disappeared, at +a leisurely pace, among the sand-hills. +</p> + +<p> +“They make honourable war,” said Northmour. “They are all +gentlemen and soldiers. For the credit of the thing, I wish we could change +sides—you and I, Frank, and you too, Missy, my darling—and leave +that being on the bed to some one else. Tut! Don’t look shocked! We are +all going post to what they call eternity, and may as well be above-board while +there’s time. As far as I’m concerned, if I could first strangle +Huddlestone and then get Clara in my arms, I could die with some pride and +satisfaction. And as it is, by God, I’ll have a kiss!” +</p> + +<p> +Before I could do anything to interfere, he had rudely embraced and repeatedly +kissed the resisting girl. Next moment I had pulled him away with fury, and +flung him heavily against the wall. He laughed loud and long, and I feared his +wits had given way under the strain; for even in the best of days he had been a +sparing and a quiet laugher. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, Frank,” said he, when his mirth was somewhat appeased, +“it’s your turn. Here’s my hand. Good-bye; farewell!” +Then, seeing me stand rigid and indignant, and holding Clara to my +side—“Man!” he broke out, “are you angry? Did you think +we were going to die with all the airs and graces of society? I took a kiss; +I’m glad I had it; and now you can take another if you like, and square +accounts.” +</p> + +<p> +I turned from him with a feeling of contempt which I did not seek to dissemble. +</p> + +<p> +“As you please,” said he. “You’ve been a prig in life; +a prig you’ll die.” +</p> + +<p> +And with that he sat down in a chair, a rifle over his knee, and amused himself +with snapping the lock; but I could see that his ebullition of light spirits +(the only one I ever knew him to display) had already come to an end, and was +succeeded by a sullen, scowling humour. +</p> + +<p> +All this time our assailants might have been entering the house, and we been +none the wiser; we had in truth almost forgotten the danger that so imminently +overhung our days. But just then Mr. Huddlestone uttered a cry, and leaped from +the bed. +</p> + +<p> +I asked him what was wrong. +</p> + +<p> +“Fire!” he cried. “They have set the house on fire!” +</p> + +<p> +Northmour was on his feet in an instant, and he and I ran through the door of +communication with the study. The room was illuminated by a red and angry +light. Almost at the moment of our entrance, a tower of flame arose in front of +the window, and, with a tingling report, a pane fell inwards on the carpet. +They had set fire to the lean-to outhouse, where Northmour used to nurse his +negatives. +</p> + +<p> +“Hot work,” said Northmour. “Let us try in your old +room.” +</p> + +<p> +We ran thither in a breath, threw up the casement, and looked forth. Along the +whole back wall of the pavilion piles of fuel had been arranged and kindled; +and it is probable they had been drenched with mineral oil, for, in spite of +the morning’s rain, they all burned bravely. The fire had taken a firm +hold already on the outhouse, which blazed higher and higher every moment; the +back door was in the centre of a red-hot bonfire; the eaves we could see, as we +looked upward, were already smouldering, for the roof overhung, and was +supported by considerable beams of wood. At the same time, hot, pungent, and +choking volumes of smoke began to fill the house. There was not a human being +to be seen to right or left. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, well!” said Northmour, “here’s the end, thank +God.” +</p> + +<p> +And we returned to <i>My Uncle’s Room</i>. Mr. Huddlestone was putting on +his boots, still violently trembling, but with an air of determination such as +I had not hitherto observed. Clara stood close by him, with her cloak in both +hands ready to throw about her shoulders, and a strange look in her eyes, as if +she were half hopeful, half doubtful of her father. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, boys and girls,” said Northmour, “how about a sally? +The oven is heating; it is not good to stay here and be baked; and, for my +part, I want to come to my hands with them, and be done.” +</p> + +<p> +“There is nothing else left,” I replied. +</p> + +<p> +And both Clara and Mr. Huddlestone, though with a very different intonation, +added, “Nothing.” +</p> + +<p> +As we went downstairs the heat was excessive, and the roaring of the fire +filled our ears; and we had scarce reached the passage before the stairs window +fell in, a branch of flame shot brandishing through the aperture, and the +interior of the pavilion became lit up with that dreadful and fluctuating +glare. At the same moment we heard the fall of something heavy and inelastic in +the upper story. The whole pavilion, it was plain, had gone alight like a box +of matches, and now not only flamed sky-high to land and sea, but threatened +with every moment to crumble and fall in about our ears. +</p> + +<p> +Northmour and I cocked our revolvers. Mr. Huddlestone, who had already refused +a firearm, put us behind him with a manner of command. +</p> + +<p> +“Let Clara open the door,” said he. “So, if they fire a +volley, she will be protected. And in the meantime stand behind me. I am the +scapegoat; my sins have found me out.” +</p> + +<p> +I heard him, as I stood breathless by his shoulder, with my pistol ready, +pattering off prayers in a tremulous, rapid whisper; and I confess, horrid as +the thought may seem, I despised him for thinking of supplications in a moment +so critical and thrilling. In the meantime, Clara, who was dead white but still +possessed her faculties, had displaced the barricade from the front door. +Another moment, and she had pulled it open. Firelight and moonlight illuminated +the links with confused and changeful lustre, and far away against the sky we +could see a long trail of glowing smoke. +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Huddlestone, filled for the moment with a strength greater than his own, +struck Northmour and myself a back-hander in the chest; and while we were thus +for the moment incapacitated from action, lifting his arms above his head like +one about to dive, he ran straight forward out of the pavilion. +</p> + +<p> +“Here am I!” he cried—“Huddlestone! Kill me, and spare +the others!” +</p> + +<p> +His sudden appearance daunted, I suppose, our hidden enemies; for Northmour and +I had time to recover, to seize Clara between us, one by each arm, and to rush +forth to his assistance, ere anything further had taken place. But scarce had +we passed the threshold when there came near a dozen reports and flashes from +every direction among the hollows of the links. Mr. Huddlestone staggered, +uttered a weird and freezing cry, threw up his arms over his head, and fell +backward on the turf. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Traditore</i>! <i>Traditore</i>!” cried the invisible avengers. +</p> + +<p> +And just then, a part of the roof of the pavilion fell in, so rapid was the +progress of the fire. A loud, vague, and horrible noise accompanied the +collapse, and a vast volume of flame went soaring up to heaven. It must have +been visible at that moment from twenty miles out at sea, from the shore at +Graden Wester, and far inland from the peak of Graystiel, the most eastern +summit of the Caulder Hills. Bernard Huddlestone, although God knows what were +his obsequies, had a fine pyre at the moment of his death. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap19"></a>CHAPTER IX<br/> +TELLS HOW NORTHMOUR CARRIED OUT HIS THREAT</h3> + +<p> +I <span class="smcap">should</span> have the greatest difficulty to tell you +what followed next after this tragic circumstance. It is all to me, as I look +back upon it, mixed, strenuous, and ineffectual, like the struggles of a +sleeper in a nightmare. Clara, I remember, uttered a broken sigh and would have +fallen forward to earth, had not Northmour and I supported her insensible body. +I do not think we were attacked; I do not remember even to have seen an +assailant; and I believe we deserted Mr. Huddlestone without a glance. I only +remember running like a man in a panic, now carrying Clara altogether in my own +arms, now sharing her weight with Northmour, now scuffling confusedly for the +possession of that dear burden. Why we should have made for my camp in the +Hemlock Den, or how we reached it, are points lost for ever to my recollection. +The first moment at which I became definitely sure, Clara had been suffered to +fall against the outside of my little tent, Northmour and I were tumbling +together on the ground, and he, with contained ferocity, was striking for my +head with the butt of his revolver. He had already twice wounded me on the +scalp; and it is to the consequent loss of blood that I am tempted to attribute +the sudden clearness of my mind. +</p> + +<p> +I caught him by the wrist. +</p> + +<p> +“Northmour,” I remember saying, “you can kill me afterwards. +Let us first attend to Clara.” +</p> + +<p> +He was at that moment uppermost. Scarcely had the words passed my lips, when he +had leaped to his feet and ran towards the tent; and the next moment, he was +straining Clara to his heart and covering her unconscious hands and face with +his caresses. +</p> + +<p> +“Shame!” I cried. “Shame to you, Northmour!” +</p> + +<p> +And, giddy though I still was, I struck him repeatedly upon the head and +shoulders. +</p> + +<p> +He relinquished his grasp, and faced me in the broken moonlight. +</p> + +<p> +“I had you under, and I let you go,” said he; “and now you +strike me! Coward!” +</p> + +<p> +“You are the coward,” I retorted. “Did she wish your kisses +while she was still sensible of what she wanted? Not she! And now she may be +dying; and you waste this precious time, and abuse her helplessness. Stand +aside, and let me help her.” +</p> + +<p> +He confronted me for a moment, white and menacing; then suddenly he stepped +aside. +</p> + +<p> +“Help her then,” said he. +</p> + +<p> +I threw myself on my knees beside her, and loosened, as well as I was able, her +dress and corset; but while I was thus engaged, a grasp descended on my +shoulder. +</p> + +<p> +“Keep your hands off her,” said Northmour fiercely. “Do you +think I have no blood in my veins?” +</p> + +<p> +“Northmour,” I cried, “if you will neither help her yourself, +nor let me do so, do you know that I shall have to kill you?” +</p> + +<p> +“That is better!” he cried. “Let her die also, where’s +the harm? Step aside from that girl! and stand up to fight” +</p> + +<p> +“You will observe,” said I, half rising, “that I have not +kissed her yet.” +</p> + +<p> +“I dare you to,” he cried. +</p> + +<p> +I do not know what possessed me; it was one of the things I am most ashamed of +in my life, though, as my wife used to say, I knew that my kisses would be +always welcome were she dead or living; down I fell again upon my knees, parted +the hair from her forehead, and, with the dearest respect, laid my lips for a +moment on that cold brow. It was such a caress as a father might have given; it +was such a one as was not unbecoming from a man soon to die to a woman already +dead. +</p> + +<p> +“And now,” said I, “I am at your service, Mr. +Northmour.” +</p> + +<p> +But I saw, to my surprise, that he had turned his back upon me. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you hear?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” said he, “I do. If you wish to fight, I am ready. If +not, go on and save Clara. All is one to me.” +</p> + +<p> +I did not wait to be twice bidden; but, stooping again over Clara, continued my +efforts to revive her. She still lay white and lifeless; I began to fear that +her sweet spirit had indeed fled beyond recall, and horror and a sense of utter +desolation seized upon my heart. I called her by name with the most endearing +inflections; I chafed and beat her hands; now I laid her head low, now +supported it against my knee; but all seemed to be in vain, and the lids still +lay heavy on her eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“Northmour,” I said, “there is my hat. For God’s sake +bring some water from the spring.” +</p> + +<p> +Almost in a moment he was by my side with the water. “I have brought it +in my own,” he said. “You do not grudge me the privilege?” +</p> + +<p> +“Northmour,” I was beginning to say, as I laved her head and +breast; but he interrupted me savagely. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, you hush up!” he said. “The best thing you can do is to +say nothing.” +</p> + +<p> +I had certainly no desire to talk, my mind being swallowed up in concern for my +dear love and her condition; so I continued in silence to do my best towards +her recovery, and, when the hat was empty, returned it to him, with one +word—“More.” He had, perhaps, gone several times upon this +errand, when Clara reopened her eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“Now,” said he, “since she is better, you can spare me, can +you not? I wish you a good night, Mr. Cassilis.” +</p> + +<p> +And with that he was gone among the thicket. I made a fire, for I had now no +fear of the Italians, who had even spared all the little possessions left in my +encampment; and, broken as she was by the excitement and the hideous +catastrophe of the evening, I managed, in one way or another—by +persuasion, encouragement, warmth, and such simple remedies as I could lay my +hand on—to bring her back to some composure of mind and strength of body. +</p> + +<p> +Day had already come, when a sharp “Hist!” sounded from the +thicket. I started from the ground; but the voice of Northmour was heard +adding, in the most tranquil tones: “Come here, Cassilis, and alone; I +want to show you something.” +</p> + +<p> +I consulted Clara with my eyes, and, receiving her tacit permission, left her +alone, and clambered out of the den. At some distance of I saw Northmour +leaning against an elder; and, as soon as he perceived me, he began walking +seaward. I had almost overtaken him as he reached the outskirts of the wood. +</p> + +<p> +“Look,” said he, pausing. +</p> + +<p> +A couple of steps more brought me out of the foliage. The light of the morning +lay cold and clear over that well-known scene. The pavilion was but a blackened +wreck; the roof had fallen in, one of the gables had fallen out; and, far and +near, the face of the links was cicatrised with little patches of burnt furze. +Thick smoke still went straight upwards in the windless air of the morning, and +a great pile of ardent cinders filled the bare walls of the house, like coals +in an open grate. Close by the islet a schooner yacht lay to, and a well-manned +boat was pulling vigorously for the shore. +</p> + +<p> +“The <i>Red Earl</i>!” I cried. “The <i>Red Earl</i> twelve +hours too late!” +</p> + +<p> +“Feel in your pocket, Frank. Are you armed?” asked Northmour. +</p> + +<p> +I obeyed him, and I think I must have become deadly pale. My revolver had been +taken from me. +</p> + +<p> +“You see I have you in my power,” he continued. “I disarmed +you last night while you were nursing Clara; but this +morning—here—take your pistol. No thanks!” he cried, holding +up his hand. “I do not like them; that is the only way you can annoy me +now.” +</p> + +<p> +He began to walk forward across the links to meet the boat, and I followed a +step or two behind. In front of the pavilion I paused to see where Mr. +Huddlestone had fallen; but there was no sign of him, nor so much as a trace of +blood. +</p> + +<p> +“Graden Floe,” said Northmour. +</p> + +<p> +He continued to advance till we had come to the head of the beach. +</p> + +<p> +“No farther, please,” said he. “Would you like to take her to +Graden House?” +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you,” replied I; “I shall try to get her to the +minister’s at Graden Wester.” +</p> + +<p> +The prow of the boat here grated on the beach, and a sailor jumped ashore with +a line in his hand. +</p> + +<p> +“Wait a minute, lads!” cried Northmour; and then lower and to my +private ear: “You had better say nothing of all this to her,” he +added. +</p> + +<p> +“On the contrary!” I broke out, “she shall know everything +that I can tell.” +</p> + +<p> +“You do not understand,” he returned, with an air of great dignity. +“It will be nothing to her; she expects it of me. Good-bye!” he +added, with a nod. +</p> + +<p> +I offered him my hand. +</p> + +<p> +“Excuse me,” said he. “It’s small, I know; but I +can’t push things quite so far as that. I don’t wish any +sentimental business, to sit by your hearth a white-haired wanderer, and all +that. Quite the contrary: I hope to God I shall never again clap eyes on either +one of you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, God bless you, Northmour!” I said heartily. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, yes,” he returned. +</p> + +<p> +He walked down the beach; and the man who was ashore gave him an arm on board, +and then shoved off and leaped into the bows himself. Northmour took the +tiller; the boat rose to the waves, and the oars between the thole-pins sounded +crisp and measured in the morning air. +</p> + +<p> +They were not yet half-way to the <i>Red Earl</i>, and I was still watching +their progress, when the sun rose out of the sea. +</p> + +<p> +One word more, and my story is done. Years after, Northmour was killed fighting +under the colours of Garibaldi for the liberation of the Tyrol. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap20"></a>A LODGING FOR THE NIGHT<br/> +A STORY OF FRANCIS VILLON</h2> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">It</span> was late in November 1456. The snow fell over +Paris with rigorous, relentless persistence; sometimes the wind made a sally +and scattered it in flying vortices; sometimes there was a lull, and flake +after flake descended out of the black night air, silent, circuitous, +interminable. To poor people, looking up under moist eyebrows, it seemed a +wonder where it all came from. Master Francis Villon had propounded an +alternative that afternoon, at a tavern window: was it only Pagan Jupiter +plucking geese upon Olympus? or were the holy angels moulting? He was only a +poor Master of Arts, he went on; and as the question somewhat touched upon +divinity, he durst not venture to conclude. A silly old priest from Montargis, +who was among the company, treated the young rascal to a bottle of wine in +honour of the jest and the grimaces with which it was accompanied, and swore on +his own white beard that he had been just such another irreverent dog when he +was Villon’s age. +</p> + +<p> +The air was raw and pointed, but not far below freezing; and the flakes were +large, damp, and adhesive. The whole city was sheeted up. An army might have +marched from end to end and not a footfall given the alarm. If there were any +belated birds in heaven, they saw the island like a large white patch, and the +bridges like slim white spars, on the black ground of the river. High up +overhead the snow settled among the tracery of the cathedral towers. Many a +niche was drifted full; many a statue wore a long white bonnet on its grotesque +or sainted head. The gargoyles had been transformed into great false noses, +drooping towards the point. The crockets were like upright pillows swollen on +one side. In the intervals of the wind, there was a dull sound of dripping +about the precincts of the church. +</p> + +<p> +The cemetery of St. John had taken its own share of the snow. All the graves +were decently covered; tall white housetops stood around in grave array; worthy +burghers were long ago in bed, benightcapped like their domiciles; there was no +light in all the neighbourhood but a little peep from a lamp that hung swinging +in the church choir, and tossed the shadows to and fro in time to its +oscillations. The clock was hard on ten when the patrol went by with halberds +and a lantern, beating their hands; and they saw nothing suspicious about the +cemetery of St. John. +</p> + +<p> +Yet there was a small house, backed up against the cemetery wall, which was +still awake, and awake to evil purpose, in that snoring district. There was not +much to betray it from without; only a stream of warm vapour from the +chimney-top, a patch where the snow melted on the roof, and a few +half-obliterated footprints at the door. But within, behind the shuttered +windows, Master Francis Villon the poet, and some of the thievish crew with +whom he consorted, were keeping the night alive and passing round the bottle. +</p> + +<p> +A great pile of living embers diffused a strong and ruddy glow from the arched +chimney. Before this straddled Dom Nicolas, the Picardy monk, with his skirts +picked up and his fat legs bared to the comfortable warmth. His dilated shadow +cut the room in half; and the firelight only escaped on either side of his +broad person, and in a little pool between his outspread feet. His face had the +beery, bruised appearance of the continual drinker’s; it was covered with +a network of congested veins, purple in ordinary circumstances, but now pale +violet, for even with his back to the fire the cold pinched him on the other +side. His cowl had half fallen back, and made a strange excrescence on either +side of his bull neck. So he straddled, grumbling, and cut the room in half +with the shadow of his portly frame. +</p> + +<p> +On the right, Villon and Guy Tabary were huddled together over a scrap of +parchment; Villon making a ballade which he was to call the “Ballade of +Roast Fish,” and Tabary spluttering admiration at his shoulder. The poet +was a rag of a man, dark, little, and lean, with hollow cheeks and thin black +locks. He carried his four-and-twenty years with feverish animation. Greed had +made folds about his eyes, evil smiles had puckered his mouth. The wolf and pig +struggled together in his face. It was an eloquent, sharp, ugly, earthly +countenance. His hands were small and prehensile, with fingers knotted like a +cord; and they were continually flickering in front of him in violent and +expressive pantomime. As for Tabary, a broad, complacent, admiring imbecility +breathed from his squash nose and slobbering lips: he had become a thief, just +as he might have become the most decent of burgesses, by the imperious chance +that rules the lives of human geese and human donkeys. +</p> + +<p> +At the monk’s other hand, Montigny and Thevenin Pensete played a game of +chance. About the first there clung some flavour of good birth and training, as +about a fallen angel; something long, lithe, and courtly in the person; +something aquiline and darkling in the face. Thevenin, poor soul, was in great +feather: he had done a good stroke of knavery that afternoon in the Faubourg +St. Jacques, and all night he had been gaining from Montigny. A flat smile +illuminated his face; his bald head shone rosily in a garland of red curls; his +little protuberant stomach shook with silent chucklings as he swept in his +gains. +</p> + +<p> +“Doubles or quits?” said Thevenin. Montigny nodded grimly. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Some may prefer to dine in state</i>,” wrote Villon, +“<i>On bread and cheese on silver plate</i>. Or—or—help me +out, Guido!” +</p> + +<p> +Tabary giggled. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Or parsley on a golden dish</i>,” scribbled the poet. +</p> + +<p> +The wind was freshening without; it drove the snow before it, and sometimes +raised its voice in a victorious whoop, and made sepulchral grumblings in the +chimney. The cold was growing sharper as the night went on. Villon, protruding +his lips, imitated the gust with something between a whistle and a groan. It +was an eerie, uncomfortable talent of the poet’s, much detested by the +Picardy monk. +</p> + +<p> +“Can’t you hear it rattle in the gibbet?” said Villon. +“They are all dancing the devil’s jig on nothing, up there. You may +dance, my gallants, you’ll be none the warmer! Whew! what a gust! Down +went somebody just now! A medlar the fewer on the three-legged +medlar-tree!—I say, Dom Nicolas, it’ll be cold to-night on the St. +Denis Road?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +Dom Nicolas winked both his big eyes, and seemed to choke upon his Adam’s +apple. Montfaucon, the great grisly Paris gibbet, stood hard by the St. Denis +Road, and the pleasantry touched him on the raw. As for Tabary, he laughed +immoderately over the medlars; he had never heard anything more light-hearted; +and he held his sides and crowed. Villon fetched him a fillip on the nose, +which turned his mirth into an attack of coughing. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, stop that row,” said Villon, “and think of rhymes to +‘fish’.” +</p> + +<p> +“Doubles or quits,” said Montigny doggedly. +</p> + +<p> +“With all my heart,” quoth Thevenin. +</p> + +<p> +“Is there any more in that bottle?” asked the monk. +</p> + +<p> +“Open another,” said Villon. “How do you ever hope to fill +that big hogshead, your body, with little things like bottles? And how do you +expect to get to heaven? How many angels, do you fancy, can be spared to carry +up a single monk from Picardy? Or do you think yourself another Elias—and +they’ll send the coach for you?” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Hominibus impossibile</i>,” replied the monk, as he filled his +glass. +</p> + +<p> +Tabary was in ecstasies. +</p> + +<p> +Villon filliped his nose again. +</p> + +<p> +“Laugh at my jokes, if you like,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +“It was very good,” objected Tabary. +</p> + +<p> +Villon made a face at him. “Think of rhymes to ‘fish’,” +he said. “What have you to do with Latin? You’ll wish you knew none +of it at the great assizes, when the devil calls for Guido Tabary, +clericus—the devil with the hump-back and red-hot finger-nails. Talking +of the devil,” he added in a whisper, “look at Montigny!” +</p> + +<p> +All three peered covertly at the gamester. He did not seem to be enjoying his +luck. His mouth was a little to a side; one nostril nearly shut, and the other +much inflated. The black dog was on his back, as people say, in terrifying +nursery metaphor; and he breathed hard under the gruesome burden. +</p> + +<p> +“He looks as if he could knife him,” whispered Tabary, with round +eyes. +</p> + +<p> +The monk shuddered, and turned his face and spread his open hands to the red +embers. It was the cold that thus affected Dom Nicolas, and not any excess of +moral sensibility. +</p> + +<p> +“Come now,” said Villon—“about this ballade. How does +it run so far?” And beating time with his hand, he read it aloud to +Tabary. +</p> + +<p> +They were interrupted at the fourth rhyme by a brief and fatal movement among +the gamesters. The round was completed, and Thevenin was just opening his mouth +to claim another victory, when Montigny leaped up, swift as an adder, and +stabbed him to the heart. The blow took effect before he had time to utter a +cry, before he had time to move. A tremor or two convulsed his frame; his hands +opened and shut, his heels rattled on the floor; then his head rolled backward +over one shoulder with the eyes wide open; and Thevenin Pensete’s spirit +had returned to Him who made it. +</p> + +<p> +Everyone sprang to his feet; but the business was over in two twos. The four +living fellows looked at each other in rather a ghastly fashion; the dead man +contemplating a corner of the roof with a singular and ugly leer. +</p> + +<p> +“My God!” said Tabary; and he began to pray in Latin. +</p> + +<p> +Villon broke out into hysterical laughter. He came a step forward and ducked a +ridiculous bow at Thevenin, and laughed still louder. Then he sat down +suddenly, all of a heap, upon a stool, and continued laughing bitterly as +though he would shake himself to pieces. +</p> + +<p> +Montigny recovered his composure first. +</p> + +<p> +“Let’s see what he has about him,” he remarked; and he picked +the dead man’s pockets with a practised hand, and divided the money into +four equal portions on the table. “There’s for you,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +The monk received his share with a deep sigh, and a single stealthy glance at +the dead Thevenin, who was beginning to sink into himself and topple sideways +of the chair. +</p> + +<p> +“We’re all in for it,” cried Villon, swallowing his mirth. +“It’s a hanging job for every man jack of us that’s +here—not to speak of those who aren’t.” He made a shocking +gesture in the air with his raised right hand, and put out his tongue and threw +his head on one side, so as to counterfeit the appearance of one who has been +hanged. Then he pocketed his share of the spoil, and executed a shuffle with +his feet as if to restore the circulation. +</p> + +<p> +Tabary was the last to help himself; he made a dash at the money, and retired +to the other end of the apartment. +</p> + +<p> +Montigny stuck Thevenin upright in the chair, and drew out the dagger, which +was followed by a jet of blood. +</p> + +<p> +“You fellows had better be moving,” he said, as he wiped the blade +on his victim’s doublet. +</p> + +<p> +“I think we had,” returned Villon with a gulp. “Damn his fat +head!” he broke out. “It sticks in my throat like phlegm. What +right has a man to have red hair when he is dead?” And he fell all of a +heap again upon the stool, and fairly covered his face with his hands. +</p> + +<p> +Montigny and Dom Nicolas laughed aloud, even Tabary feebly chiming in. +</p> + +<p> +“Cry baby,” said the monk. +</p> + +<p> +“I always said he was a woman,” added Montigny with a sneer. +“Sit up, can’t you?” he went on, giving another shake to the +murdered body. “Tread out that fire, Nick!” +</p> + +<p> +But Nick was better employed; he was quietly taking Villon’s purse, as +the poet sat, limp and trembling, on the stool where he had been making a +ballade not three minutes before. Montigny and Tabary dumbly demanded a share +of the booty, which the monk silently promised as he passed the little bag into +the bosom of his gown. In many ways an artistic nature unfits a man for +practical existence. +</p> + +<p> +No sooner had the theft been accomplished than Villon shook himself, jumped to +his feet, and began helping to scatter and extinguish the embers. Meanwhile +Montigny opened the door and cautiously peered into the street. The coast was +clear; there was no meddlesome patrol in sight. Still it was judged wiser to +slip out severally; and as Villon was himself in a hurry to escape from the +neighbourhood of the dead Thevenin, and the rest were in a still greater hurry +to get rid of him before he should discover the loss of his money, he was the +first by general consent to issue forth into the street. +</p> + +<p> +The wind had triumphed and swept all the clouds from heaven. Only a few +vapours, as thin as moonlight, fleeting rapidly across the stars. It was bitter +cold; and by a common optical effect, things seemed almost more definite than +in the broadest daylight. The sleeping city was absolutely still: a company of +white hoods, a field full of little Alps, below the twinkling stars. Villon +cursed his fortune. Would it were still snowing! Now, wherever he went, he left +an indelible trail behind him on the glittering streets; wherever he went he +was still tethered to the house by the cemetery of St. John; wherever he went +he must weave, with his own plodding feet, the rope that bound him to the crime +and would bind him to the gallows. The leer of the dead man came back to him +with a new significance. He snapped his fingers as if to pluck up his own +spirits, and choosing a street at random, stepped boldly forward in the snow. +</p> + +<p> +Two things preoccupied him as he went: the aspect of the gallows at Montfaucon +in this bright windy phase of the night’s existence, for one; and for +another, the look of the dead man with his bald head and garland of red curls. +Both struck cold upon his heart, and he kept quickening his pace as if he could +escape from unpleasant thoughts by mere fleetness of foot. Sometimes he looked +back over his shoulder with a sudden nervous jerk; but he was the only moving +thing in the white streets, except when the wind swooped round a corner and +threw up the snow, which was beginning to freeze, in spouts of glittering dust. +</p> + +<p> +Suddenly he saw, a long way before him, a black clump and a couple of lanterns. +The clump was in motion, and the lanterns swung as though carried by men +walking. It was a patrol. And though it was merely crossing his line of march, +he judged it wiser to get out of eyeshot as speedily as he could. He was not in +the humour to be challenged, and he was conscious of making a very conspicuous +mark upon the snow. Just on his left hand there stood a great hotel, with some +turrets and a large porch before the door; it was half-ruinous, he remembered, +and had long stood empty; and so he made three steps of it and jumped into the +shelter of the porch. It was pretty dark inside, after the glimmer of the snowy +streets, and he was groping forward with outspread hands, when he stumbled over +some substance which offered an indescribable mixture of resistances, hard and +soft, firm and loose. His heart gave a leap, and he sprang two steps back and +stared dreadfully at the obstacle. Then he gave a little laugh of relief. It +was only a woman, and she dead. He knelt beside her to make sure upon this +latter point. She was freezing cold, and rigid like a stick. A little ragged +finery fluttered in the wind about her hair, and her cheeks had been heavily +rouged that same afternoon. Her pockets were quite empty; but in her stocking, +underneath the garter, Villon found two of the small coins that went by the +name of whites. It was little enough; but it was always something; and the poet +was moved with a deep sense of pathos that she should have died before she had +spent her money. That seemed to him a dark and pitiable mystery; and he looked +from the coins in his hand to the dead woman, and back again to the coins, +shaking his head over the riddle of man’s life. Henry V. of England, +dying at Vincennes just after he had conquered France, and this poor jade cut +off by a cold draught in a great man’s doorway, before she had time to +spend her couple of whites—it seemed a cruel way to carry on the world. +Two whites would have taken such a little while to squander; and yet it would +have been one more good taste in the mouth, one more smack of the lips, before +the devil got the soul, and the body was left to birds and vermin. He would +like to use all his tallow before the light was blown out and the lantern +broken. +</p> + +<p> +While these thoughts were passing through his mind, he was feeling, half +mechanically, for his purse. Suddenly his heart stopped beating; a feeling of +cold scales passed up the back of his legs, and a cold blow seemed to fall upon +his scalp. He stood petrified for a moment; then he felt again with one +feverish movement; and then his loss burst upon him, and he was covered at once +with perspiration. To spendthrifts money is so living and actual—it is +such a thin veil between them and their pleasures! There is only one limit to +their fortune—that of time; and a spendthrift with only a few crowns is +the Emperor of Rome until they are spent. For such a person to lose his money +is to suffer the most shocking reverse, and fall from heaven to hell, from all +to nothing, in a breath. And all the more if he has put his head in the halter +for it; if he may be hanged to-morrow for that same purse, so dearly earned, so +foolishly departed! Villon stood and cursed; he threw the two whites into the +street; he shook his fist at heaven; he stamped, and was not horrified to find +himself trampling the poor corpse. Then he began rapidly to retrace his steps +towards the house beside the cemetery. He had forgotten all fear of the patrol, +which was long gone by at any rate, and had no idea but that of his lost purse. +It was in vain that he looked right and left upon the snow: nothing was to be +seen. He had not dropped it in the streets. Had it fallen in the house? He +would have liked dearly to go in and see; but the idea of the grisly occupant +unmanned him. And he saw besides, as he drew near, that their efforts to put +out the fire had been unsuccessful; on the contrary, it had broken into a +blaze, and a changeful light played in the chinks of door and window, and +revived his terror for the authorities and Paris gibbet. +</p> + +<p> +He returned to the hotel with the porch, and groped about upon the snow for the +money he had thrown away in his childish passion. But he could only find one +white; the other had probably struck sideways and sunk deeply in. With a single +white in his pocket, all his projects for a rousing night in some wild tavern +vanished utterly away. And it was not only pleasure that fled laughing from his +grasp; positive discomfort, positive pain, attacked him as he stood ruefully +before the porch. His perspiration had dried upon him; and though the wind had +now fallen, a binding frost was setting in stronger with every hour, and be +felt benumbed and sick at heart. What was to be done? Late as was the hour, +improbable as was success, he would try the house of his adopted father, the +chaplain of St. Benoît. +</p> + +<p> +He ran there all the way, and knocked timidly. There was no answer. He knocked +again and again, taking heart with every stroke; and at last steps were heard +approaching from within. A barred wicket fell open in the iron-studded door, +and emitted a gush of yellow light. +</p> + +<p> +“Hold up your face to the wicket,” said the chaplain from within. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s only me,” whimpered Villon. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, it’s only you, is it?” returned the chaplain; and he +cursed him with foul unpriestly oaths for disturbing him at such an hour, and +bade him be off to hell, where he came from. +</p> + +<p> +“My hands are blue to the wrist,” pleaded Villon; “my feet +are dead and full of twinges; my nose aches with the sharp air; the cold lies +at my heart. I may be dead before morning. Only this once, father, and before +God I will never ask again!” +</p> + +<p> +“You should have come earlier,” said the ecclesiastic coolly. +“Young men require a lesson now and then.” He shut the wicket and +retired deliberately into the interior of the house. +</p> + +<p> +Villon was beside himself; he beat upon the door with his hands and feet, and +shouted hoarsely after the chaplain. +</p> + +<p> +“Wormy old fox!” he cried. “If I had my hand under your +twist, I would send you flying headlong into the bottomless pit.” +</p> + +<p> +A door shut in the interior, faintly audible to the poet down long passages. He +passed his hand over his mouth with an oath. And then the humour of the +situation struck him, and he laughed and looked lightly up to heaven, where the +stars seemed to be winking over his discomfiture. +</p> + +<p> +What was to be done? It looked very like a night in the frosty streets. The +idea of the dead woman popped into his imagination, and gave him a hearty +fright; what had happened to her in the early night might very well happen to +him before morning. And he so young! and with such immense possibilities of +disorderly amusement before him! He felt quite pathetic over the notion of his +own fate, as if it had been some one else’s, and made a little +imaginative vignette of the scene in the morning when they should find his +body. +</p> + +<p> +He passed all his chances under review, turning the white between his thumb and +forefinger. Unfortunately he was on bad terms with some old friends who would +once have taken pity on him in such a plight. He had lampooned them in verses, +he had beaten and cheated them; and yet now, when he was in so close a pinch, +he thought there was at least one who might perhaps relent. It was a chance. It +was worth trying at least, and he would go and see. +</p> + +<p> +On the way, two little accidents happened to him which coloured his musings in +a very different manner. For, first, he fell in with the track of a patrol, and +walked in it for some hundred yards, although it lay out of his direction. And +this spirited him up; at least he had confused his trail; for he was still +possessed with the idea of people tracking him all about Paris over the snow, +and collaring him next morning before he was awake. The other matter affected +him very differently. He passed a street corner, where, not so long before, a +woman and her child had been devoured by wolves. This was just the kind of +weather, he reflected, when wolves might take it into their heads to enter +Paris again; and a lone man in these deserted streets would run the chance of +something worse than a mere scare. He stopped and looked upon the place with an +unpleasant interest—it was a centre where several lanes intersected each +other; and he looked down them all one after another, and held his breath to +listen, lest he should detect some galloping black things on the snow or hear +the sound of howling between him and the river. He remembered his mother +telling him the story and pointing out the spot, while he was yet a child. His +mother! If he only knew where she lived, he might make sure at least of +shelter. He determined he would inquire upon the morrow; nay, he would go and +see her too, poor old girl! So thinking, he arrived at his +destination—his last hope for the night. +</p> + +<p> +The house was quite dark, like its neighbours; and yet after a few taps, he +heard a movement overhead, a door opening, and a cautious voice asking who was +there. The poet named himself in a loud whisper, and waited, not without some +trepidation, the result. Nor had he to wait long. A window was suddenly opened, +and a pailful of slops splashed down upon the doorstep. Villon had not been +unprepared for something of the sort, and had put himself as much in shelter as +the nature of the porch admitted; but for all that, he was deplorably drenched +below the waist. His hose began to freeze almost at once. Death from cold and +exposure stared him in the face; he remembered he was of phthisical tendency, +and began coughing tentatively. But the gravity of the danger steadied his +nerves. He stopped a few hundred yards from the door where he had been so +rudely used, and reflected with his finger to his nose. He could only see one +way of getting a lodging, and that was to take it. He had noticed a house not +far away, which looked as if it might be easily broken into, and thither he +betook himself promptly, entertaining himself on the way with the idea of a +room still hot, with a table still loaded with the remains of supper, where he +might pass the rest of the black hours, and whence he should issue, on the +morrow, with an armful of valuable plate. He even considered on what viands and +what wines he should prefer; and as he was calling the roll of his favourite +dainties, roast fish presented itself to his mind with an odd mixture of +amusement and horror. +</p> + +<p> +“I shall never finish that ballade,” he thought to himself; and +then, with another shudder at the recollection, “Oh, damn his fat +head!” he repeated fervently, and spat upon the snow. +</p> + +<p> +The house in question looked dark at first sight; but as Villon made a +preliminary inspection in search of the handiest point of attack, a little +twinkle of light caught his eye from behind a curtained window. +</p> + +<p> +“The devil!” he thought. “People awake! Some student or some +saint, confound the crew! Can’t they get drunk and lie in bed snoring +like their neighbours? What’s the good of curfew, and poor devils of +bell-ringers jumping at a rope’s end in bell-towers? What’s the use +of day, if people sit up all night? The gripes to them!” He grinned as he +saw where his logic was leading him. “Every man to his business, after +all,” added he, “and if they’re awake, by the Lord, I may +come by a supper honestly for this once, and cheat the devil.” +</p> + +<p> +He went boldly to the door and knocked with an assured hand. On both previous +occasions, he had knocked timidly and with some dread of attracting notice; but +now when he had just discarded the thought of a burglarious entry, knocking at +a door seemed a mighty simple and innocent proceeding. The sound of his blows +echoed through the house with thin, phantasmal reverberations, as though it +were quite empty; but these had scarcely died away before a measured tread drew +near, a couple of bolts were withdrawn, and one wing was opened broadly, as +though no guile or fear of guile were known to those within. A tall figure of a +man, muscular and spare, but a little bent, confronted Villon. The head was +massive in bulk, but finely sculptured; the nose blunt at the bottom, but +refining upward to where it joined a pair of strong and honest eyebrows; the +mouth and eyes surrounded with delicate markings, and the whole face based upon +a thick white beard, boldly and squarely trimmed. Seen as it was by the light +of a flickering hand-lamp, it looked perhaps nobler than it had a right to do; +but it was a fine face, honourable rather than intelligent, strong, simple, and +righteous. +</p> + +<p> +“You knock late, sir,” said the old man in resonant, courteous +tones. +</p> + +<p> +Villon cringed, and brought up many servile words of apology; at a crisis of +this sort, the beggar was uppermost in him, and the man of genius hid his head +with confusion. +</p> + +<p> +“You are cold,” repeated the old man, “and hungry? Well, step +in.” And he ordered him into the house with a noble enough gesture. +</p> + +<p> +“Some great seigneur,” thought Villon, as his host, setting down +the lamp on the flagged pavement of the entry, shot the bolts once more into +their places. +</p> + +<p> +“You will pardon me if I go in front,” he said, when this was done; +and he preceded the poet upstairs into a large apartment, warmed with a pan of +charcoal and lit by a great lamp hanging from the roof. It was very bare of +furniture: only some gold plate on a sideboard; some folios; and a stand of +armour between the windows. Some smart tapestry hung upon the walls, +representing the crucifixion of our Lord in one piece, and in another a scene +of shepherds and shepherdesses by a running stream. Over the chimney was a +shield of arms. +</p> + +<p> +“Will you seat yourself,” said the old man, “and forgive me +if I leave you? I am alone in my house to-night, and if you are to eat I must +forage for you myself.” +</p> + +<p> +No sooner was his host gone than Villon leaped from the chair on which he had +just seated himself, and began examining the room, with the stealth and passion +of a cat. He weighed the gold flagons in his hand, opened all the folios, and +investigated the arms upon the shield, and the stuff with which the seats were +lined. He raised the window curtains, and saw that the windows were set with +rich stained glass in figures, so far as he could see, of martial import. Then +he stood in the middle of the room, drew a long breath, and retaining it with +puffed cheeks, looked round and round him, turning on his heels, as if to +impress every feature of the apartment on his memory. +</p> + +<p> +“Seven pieces of plate,” he said. “If there had been ten, I +would have risked it. A fine house, and a fine old master, so help me all the +saints!” +</p> + +<p> +And just then, hearing the old man’s tread returning along the corridor, +he stole back to his chair, and began humbly toasting his wet legs before the +charcoal pan. +</p> + +<p> +His entertainer had a plate of meat in one hand and a jug of wine in the other. +He set down the plate upon the table, motioning Villon to draw in his chair, +and going to the sideboard, brought back two goblets, which he filled. +</p> + +<p> +“I drink to your better fortune,” he said, gravely touching +Villon’s cup with his own. +</p> + +<p> +“To our better acquaintance,” said the poet, growing bold. A mere +man of the people would have been awed by the courtesy of the old seigneur, but +Villon was hardened in that matter; he had made mirth for great lords before +now, and found them as black rascals as himself. And so he devoted himself to +the viands with a ravenous gusto, while the old man, leaning backward, watched +him with steady, curious eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“You have blood on your shoulder, my man,” he said. Montigny must +have laid his wet right hand upon him as he left the house. He cursed Montigny +in his heart. +</p> + +<p> +“It was none of my shedding,” he stammered. +</p> + +<p> +“I had not supposed so,” returned his host quietly. +</p> + +<p> +“A brawl?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, something of that sort,” Villon admitted with a quaver. +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps a fellow murdered?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh no, not murdered,” said the poet, more and more confused. +“It was all fair play—murdered by accident. I had no hand in it, +God strike me dead!” he added fervently. +</p> + +<p> +“One rogue the fewer, I dare say,” observed the master of the +house. +</p> + +<p> +“You may dare to say that,” agreed Villon, infinitely relieved. +“As big a rogue as there is between here and Jerusalem. He turned up his +toes like a lamb. But it was a nasty thing to look at. I dare say you’ve +seen dead men in your time, my lord?” he added, glancing at the armour. +</p> + +<p> +“Many,” said the old man. “I have followed the wars, as you +imagine.” +</p> + +<p> +Villon laid down his knife and fork, which he had just taken up again. +</p> + +<p> +“Were any of them bald?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh yes, and with hair as white as mine.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t think I should mind the white so much,” said Villon. +“His was red.” And he had a return of his shuddering and tendency +to laughter, which he drowned with a great draught of wine. “I’m a +little put out when I think of it,” he went on. “I knew +him—damn him! And then the cold gives a man fancies—or the fancies +give a man cold, I don’t know which.” +</p> + +<p> +“Have you any money?” asked the old man. +</p> + +<p> +“I have one white,” returned the poet, laughing. “I got it +out of a dead jade’s stocking in a porch. She was as dead as Cæsar, poor +wench, and as cold as a church, with bits of ribbon sticking in her hair. This +is a hard world in winter for wolves and wenches and poor rogues like +me.” +</p> + +<p> +“I,” said the old man, “am Enguerrand de la Feuillée, +seigneur de Brisetout, bailly du Patatrac. Who and what may you be?” +</p> + +<p> +Villon rose and made a suitable reverence. “I am called Francis +Villon,” he said, “a poor Master of Arts of this university. I know +some Latin, and a deal of vice. I can make chansons, ballades, lais, virelais, +and roundels, and I am very fond of wine. I was born in a garret, and I shall +not improbably die upon the gallows. I may add, my lord, that from this night +forward I am your lordship’s very obsequious servant to command.” +</p> + +<p> +“No servant of mine,” said the knight; “my guest for this +evening, and no more.” +</p> + +<p> +“A very grateful guest,” said Villon politely; and he drank in dumb +show to his entertainer. +</p> + +<p> +“You are shrewd,” began the old man, tapping his forehead, +“very shrewd; you have learning; you are a clerk; and yet you take a +small piece of money off a dead woman in the street. Is it not a kind of +theft?” +</p> + +<p> +“It is a kind of theft much practised in the wars, my lord.” +</p> + +<p> +“The wars are the field of honour,” returned the old man proudly. +“There a man plays his life upon the cast; he fights in the name of his +lord the king, his Lord God, and all their lordships the holy saints and +angels.” +</p> + +<p> +“Put it,” said Villon, “that I were really a thief, should I +not play my life also, and against heavier odds?” +</p> + +<p> +“For gain, but not for honour.” +</p> + +<p> +“Gain?” repeated Villon with a shrug. “Gain! The poor fellow +wants supper, and takes it. So does the soldier in a campaign. Why, what are +all these requisitions we hear so much about? If they are not gain to those who +take them, they are loss enough to the others. The men-at-arms drink by a good +fire, while the burgher bites his nails to buy them wine and wood. I have seen +a good many ploughmen swinging on trees about the country, ay, I have seen +thirty on one elm, and a very poor figure they made; and when I asked some one +how all these came to be hanged, I was told it was because they could not +scrape together enough crowns to satisfy the men-at-arms.” +</p> + +<p> +“These things are a necessity of war, which the low-born must endure with +constancy. It is true that some captains drive over hard; there are spirits in +every rank not easily moved by pity; and indeed many follow arms who are no +better than brigands.” +</p> + +<p> +“You see,” said the poet, “you cannot separate the soldier +from the brigand; and what is a thief but an isolated brigand with circumspect +manners? I steal a couple of mutton chops, without so much as disturbing +people’s sleep; the farmer grumbles a bit, but sups none the less +wholesomely on what remains. You come up blowing gloriously on a trumpet, take +away the whole sheep, and beat the farmer pitifully into the bargain. I have no +trumpet; I am only Tom, Dick, or Harry; I am a rogue and a dog, and +hanging’s too good for me—with all my heart; but just you ask the +farmer which of us he prefers, just find out which of us he lies awake to curse +on cold nights.” +</p> + +<p> +“Look at us two,” said his lordship. “I am old, strong, and +honoured. If I were turned from my house to-morrow, hundreds would be proud to +shelter me. Poor people would go out and pass the night in the streets with +their children, if I merely hinted that I wished to be alone. And I find you +up, wandering homeless, and picking farthings off dead women by the wayside! I +fear no man and nothing; I have seen you tremble and lose countenance at a +word. I wait God’s summons contentedly in my own house, or, if it please +the king to call me out again, upon the field of battle. You look for the +gallows; a rough, swift death, without hope or honour. Is there no difference +between these two?” +</p> + +<p> +“As far as to the moon,” Villon acquiesced. “But if I had +been born lord of Brisetout, and you had been the poor scholar Francis, would +the difference have been any the less? Should not I have been warming my knees +at this charcoal pan, and would not you have been groping for farthings in the +snow? Should not I have been the soldier, and you the thief?” +</p> + +<p> +“A thief!” cried the old man. “I a thief! If you understood +your words, you would repent them.” +</p> + +<p> +Villon turned out his hands with a gesture of inimitable impudence. “If +your lordship had done me the honour to follow my argument!” he said. +</p> + +<p> +“I do you too much honour in submitting to your presence,” said the +knight. “Learn to curb your tongue when you speak with old and honourable +men, or some one hastier than I may reprove you in a sharper fashion.” +And he rose and paced the lower end of the apartment, struggling with anger and +antipathy. Villon surreptitiously refilled his cup, and settled himself more +comfortably in the chair, crossing his knees and leaning his head upon one hand +and the elbow against the back of the chair. He was now replete and warm; and +he was in nowise frightened for his host, having gauged him as justly as was +possible between two such different characters. The night was far spent, and in +a very comfortable fashion after all; and he felt morally certain of a safe +departure on the morrow. +</p> + +<p> +“Tell me one thing,” said the old man, pausing in his walk. +“Are you really a thief?” +</p> + +<p> +“I claim the sacred rights of hospitality,” returned the poet. +“My lord, I am.” +</p> + +<p> +“You are very young,” the knight continued. +</p> + +<p> +“I should never have been so old,” replied Villon, showing his +fingers, “if I had not helped myself with these ten talents. They have +been my nursing mothers and my nursing fathers.” +</p> + +<p> +“You may still repent and change.” +</p> + +<p> +“I repent daily,” said the poet. “There are few people more +given to repentance than poor Francis. As for change, let somebody change my +circumstances. A man must continue to eat, if it were only that he may continue +to repent.” +</p> + +<p> +“The change must begin in the heart,” returned the old man +solemnly. +</p> + +<p> +“My dear lord,” answered Villon, “do you really fancy that I +steal for pleasure? I hate stealing, like any other piece of work or of danger. +My teeth chatter when I see a gallows. But I must eat, I must drink, I must mix +in society of some sort. What the devil! Man is not a solitary +animal—<i>Cui Deus fæminam tradit</i>. Make me king’s +pantler—make me abbot of St. Denis; make me bailly of the Patatrac; and +then I shall be changed indeed. But as long as you leave me the poor scholar +Francis Villon, without a farthing, why, of course, I remain the same.” +</p> + +<p> +“The grace of God is all-powerful.” +</p> + +<p> +“I should be a heretic to question it,” said Francis. “It has +made you lord of Brisetout and bailly of the Patatrac; it has given me nothing +but the quick wits under my hat and these ten toes upon my hands. May I help +myself to wine? I thank you respectfully. By God’s grace, you have a very +superior vintage.” +</p> + +<p> +The lord of Brisetout walked to and fro with his hands behind his back. Perhaps +he was not yet quite settled in his mind about the parallel between thieves and +soldiers; perhaps Villon had interested him by some cross-thread of sympathy; +perhaps his wits were simply muddled by so much unfamiliar reasoning; but +whatever the cause, he somehow yearned to convert the young man to a better way +of thinking, and could not make up his mind to drive him forth again into the +street. +</p> + +<p> +“There is something more than I can understand in this,” he said at +length. “Your mouth is full of subtleties, and the devil has led you very +far astray; but the devil is only a very weak spirit before God’s truth, +and all his subtleties vanish at a word of true honour, like darkness at +morning. Listen to me once more. I learned long ago that a gentleman should +live chivalrously and lovingly to God, and the king, and his lady; and though I +have seen many strange things done, I have still striven to command my ways +upon that rule. It is not only written in all noble histories, but in every +man’s heart, if he will take care to read. You speak of food and wine, +and I know very well that hunger is a difficult trial to endure; but you do not +speak of other wants; you say nothing of honour, of faith to God and other men, +of courtesy, of love without reproach. It may be that I am not very +wise—and yet I think I am—but you seem to me like one who has lost +his way and made a great error in life. You are attending to the little wants, +and you have totally forgotten the great and only real ones, like a man who +should be doctoring a toothache on the Judgment Day. For such things as honour +and love and faith are not only nobler than food and drink, but indeed I think +that we desire them more, and suffer more sharply for their absence. I speak to +you as I think you will most easily understand me. Are you not, while careful +to fill your belly, disregarding another appetite in your heart, which spoils +the pleasure of your life and keeps you continually wretched?” +</p> + +<p> +Villon was sensibly nettled under all this sermonising. “You think I have +no sense of honour!” he cried. “I’m poor enough, God knows! +It’s hard to see rich people with their gloves, and you blowing in your +hands. An empty belly is a bitter thing, although you speak so lightly of it. +If you had had as many as I, perhaps you would change your tune. Any way +I’m a thief—make the most of that—but I’m not a devil +from hell, God strike me dead. I would have you to know I’ve an honour of +my own, as good as yours, though I don’t prate about it all day long, as +if it was a God’s miracle to have any. It seems quite natural to me; I +keep it in its box till it’s wanted. Why now, look you here, how long +have I been in this room with you? Did you not tell me you were alone in the +house? Look at your gold plate! You’re strong, if you like, but +you’re old and unarmed, and I have my knife. What did I want but a jerk +of the elbow and here would have been you with the cold steel in your bowels, +and there would have been me, linking in the streets, with an armful of gold +cups! Did you suppose I hadn’t wit enough to see that? And I scorned the +action. There are your damned goblets, as safe as in a church; there are you, +with your heart ticking as good as new; and here am I, ready to go out again as +poor as I came in, with my one white that you threw in my teeth! And you think +I have no sense of honour—God strike me dead!” +</p> + +<p> +The old man stretched out his right arm. “I will tell you what you +are,” he said. “You are a rogue, my man, an impudent and a +black-hearted rogue and vagabond. I have passed an hour with you. Oh! believe +me, I feel myself disgraced! And you have eaten and drunk at my table. But now +I am sick at your presence; the day has come, and the night-bird should be off +to his roost. Will you go before, or after?” +</p> + +<p> +“Which you please,” returned the poet, rising. “I believe you +to be strictly honourable.” He thoughtfully emptied his cup. “I +wish I could add you were intelligent,” he went on, knocking on his head +with his knuckles. “Age, age! the brains stiff and rheumatic.” +</p> + +<p> +The old man preceded him from a point of self-respect; Villon followed, +whistling, with his thumbs in his girdle. +</p> + +<p> +“God pity you,” said the lord of Brisetout at the door. +</p> + +<p> +“Good-bye, papa,” returned Villon with a yawn. “Many thanks +for the cold mutton.” +</p> + +<p> +The door closed behind him. The dawn was breaking over the white roofs. A +chill, uncomfortable morning ushered in the day. Villon stood and heartily +stretched himself in the middle of the road. +</p> + +<p> +“A very dull old gentleman,” he thought. “I wonder what his +goblets may be worth.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap21"></a>THE SIRE DE MALÉTROIT’S DOOR</h2> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">Denis de Beaulieu</span> was not yet two-and-twenty, but he +counted himself a grown man, and a very accomplished cavalier into the bargain. +Lads were early formed in that rough, warfaring epoch; and when one has been in +a pitched battle and a dozen raids, has killed one’s man in an honourable +fashion, and knows a thing or two of strategy and mankind, a certain swagger in +the gait is surely to be pardoned. He had put up his horse with due care, and +supped with due deliberation; and then, in a very agreeable frame of mind, went +out to pay a visit in the grey of the evening. It was not a very wise +proceeding on the young man’s part. He would have done better to remain +beside the fire or go decently to bed. For the town was full of the troops of +Burgundy and England under a mixed command; and though Denis was there on +safe-conduct, his safe-conduct was like to serve him little on a chance +encounter. +</p> + +<p> +It was September 1429; the weather had fallen sharp; a flighty piping wind, +laden with showers, beat about the township; and the dead leaves ran riot along +the streets. Here and there a window was already lighted up; and the noise of +men-at-arms making merry over supper within, came forth in fits and was +swallowed up and carried away by the wind. The night fell swiftly; the flag of +England, fluttering on the spire-top, grew ever fainter and fainter against the +flying clouds—a black speck like a swallow in the tumultuous, leaden +chaos of the sky. As the night fell the wind rose, and began to hoot under +archways and roar amid the tree-tops in the valley below the town. +</p> + +<p> +Denis de Beaulieu walked fast and was soon knocking at his friend’s door; +but though he promised himself to stay only a little while and make an early +return, his welcome was so pleasant, and he found so much to delay him, that it +was already long past midnight before he said good-bye upon the threshold. The +wind had fallen again in the meanwhile; the night was as black as the grave; +not a star, nor a glimmer of moonshine, slipped through the canopy of cloud. +Denis was ill-acquainted with the intricate lanes of Chateau Landon; even by +daylight he had found some trouble in picking his way; and in this absolute +darkness he soon lost it altogether. He was certain of one thing only—to +keep mounting the hill; for his friend’s house lay at the lower end, or +tail, of Chateau Landon, while the inn was up at the head, under the great +church spire. With this clue to go upon he stumbled and groped forward, now +breathing more freely in open places where there was a good slice of sky +overhead, now feeling along the wall in stifling closes. It is an eerie and +mysterious position to be thus submerged in opaque blackness in an almost +unknown town. The silence is terrifying in its possibilities. The touch of cold +window bars to the exploring hand startles the man like the touch of a toad; +the inequalities of the pavement shake his heart into his mouth; a piece of +denser darkness threatens an ambuscade or a chasm in the pathway; and where the +air is brighter, the houses put on strange and bewildering appearances, as if +to lead him farther from his way. For Denis, who had to regain his inn without +attracting notice, there was real danger as well as mere discomfort in the +walk; and he went warily and boldly at once, and at every corner paused to make +an observation. +</p> + +<p> +He had been for some time threading a lane so narrow that he could touch a wall +with either hand, when it began to open out and go sharply downward. Plainly +this lay no longer in the direction of his inn; but the hope of a little more +light tempted him forward to reconnoitre. The lane ended in a terrace with a +bartizan wall, which gave an out-look between high houses, as out of an +embrasure, into the valley lying dark and formless several hundred feet below. +Denis looked down, and could discern a few tree-tops waving and a single speck +of brightness where the river ran across a weir. The weather was clearing up, +and the sky had lightened, so as to show the outline of the heavier clouds and +the dark margin of the hills. By the uncertain glimmer, the house on his left +hand should be a place of some pretensions; it was surmounted by several +pinnacles and turret-tops; the round stern of a chapel, with a fringe of flying +buttresses, projected boldly from the main block; and the door was sheltered +under a deep porch carved with figures and overhung by two long gargoyles. The +windows of the chapel gleamed through their intricate tracery with a light as +of many tapers, and threw out the buttresses and the peaked roof in a more +intense blackness against the sky. It was plainly the hotel of some great +family of the neighbourhood; and as it reminded Denis of a town house of his +own at Bourges, he stood for some time gazing up at it and mentally gauging the +skill of the architects and the consideration of the two families. +</p> + +<p> +There seemed to be no issue to the terrace but the lane by which he had reached +it; he could only retrace his steps, but he had gained some notion of his +whereabouts, and hoped by this means to hit the main thoroughfare and speedily +regain the inn. He was reckoning without that chapter of accidents which was to +make this night memorable above all others in his career; for he had not gone +back above a hundred yards before he saw a light coming to meet him, and heard +loud voices speaking together in the echoing narrows of the lane. It was a +party of men-at-arms going the night round with torches. Denis assured himself +that they had all been making free with the wine-bowl, and were in no mood to +be particular about safe-conducts or the niceties of chivalrous war. It was as +like as not that they would kill him like a dog and leave him where he fell. +The situation was inspiriting but nervous. Their own torches would conceal him +from sight, he reflected; and he hoped that they would drown the noise of his +footsteps with their own empty voices. If he were but fleet and silent, he +might evade their notice altogether. +</p> + +<p> +Unfortunately, as he turned to beat a retreat, his foot rolled upon a pebble; +he fell against the wall with an ejaculation, and his sword rang loudly on the +stones. Two or three voices demanded who went there—some in French, some +in English; but Denis made no reply, and ran the faster down the lane. Once +upon the terrace, he paused to look back. They still kept calling after him, +and just then began to double the pace in pursuit, with a considerable clank of +armour, and great tossing of the torchlight to and fro in the narrow jaws of +the passage. +</p> + +<p> +Denis cast a look around and darted into the porch. There he might escape +observation, or—if that were too much to expect—was in a capital +posture whether for parley or defence. So thinking, he drew his sword and tried +to set his back against the door. To his surprise, it yielded behind his +weight; and though he turned in a moment, continued to swing back on oiled and +noiseless hinges, until it stood wide open on a black interior. When things +fall out opportunely for the person concerned, he is not apt to be critical +about the how or why, his own immediate personal convenience seeming a +sufficient reason for the strangest oddities and resolutions in our sublunary +things; and so Denis, without a moment’s hesitation, stepped within and +partly closed the door behind him to conceal his place of refuge. Nothing was +further from his thoughts than to close it altogether; but for some +inexplicable reason—perhaps by a spring or a weight—the ponderous +mass of oak whipped itself out of his fingers and clanked to, with a formidable +rumble and a noise like the falling of an automatic bar. +</p> + +<p> +The round, at that very moment, debouched upon the terrace and proceeded to +summon him with shouts and curses. He heard them ferreting in the dark corners; +the stock of a lance even rattled along the outer surface of the door behind +which he stood; but these gentlemen were in too high a humour to be long +delayed, and soon made off down a corkscrew pathway which had escaped +Denis’s observation, and passed out of sight and hearing along the +battlements of the town. +</p> + +<p> +Denis breathed again. He gave them a few minutes’ grace for fear of +accidents, and then groped about for some means of opening the door and +slipping forth again. The inner surface was quite smooth, not a handle, not a +moulding, not a projection of any sort. He got his finger-nails round the edges +and pulled, but the mass was immovable. He shook it, it was as firm as a rock. +Denis de Beaulieu frowned and gave vent to a little noiseless whistle. What +ailed the door? he wondered. Why was it open? How came it to shut so easily and +so effectually after him? There was something obscure and underhand about all +this, that was little to the young man’s fancy. It looked like a snare; +and yet who could suppose a snare in such a quiet by-street and in a house of +so prosperous and even noble an exterior? And yet—snare or no snare, +intentionally or unintentionally—here he was, prettily trapped; and for +the life of him he could see no way out of it again. The darkness began to +weigh upon him. He gave ear; all was silent without, but within and close by he +seemed to catch a faint sighing, a faint sobbing rustle, a little stealthy +creak—as though many persons were at his side, holding themselves quite +still, and governing even their respiration with the extreme of slyness. The +idea went to his vitals with a shock, and he faced about suddenly as if to +defend his life. Then, for the first time, he became aware of a light about the +level of his eyes and at some distance in the interior of the house—a +vertical thread of light, widening towards the bottom, such as might escape +between two wings of arras over a doorway. To see anything was a relief to +Denis; it was like a piece of solid ground to a man labouring in a morass; his +mind seized upon it with avidity; and he stood staring at it and trying to +piece together some logical conception of his surroundings. Plainly there was a +flight of steps ascending from his own level to that of this illuminated +doorway; and indeed he thought he could make out another thread of light, as +fine as a needle and as faint as phosphorescence, which might very well be +reflected along the polished wood of a handrail. Since he had begun to suspect +that he was not alone, his heart had continued to beat with smothering +violence, and an intolerable desire for action of any sort had possessed itself +of his spirit. He was in deadly peril, he believed. What could be more natural +than to mount the staircase, lift the curtain, and confront his difficulty at +once? At least he would be dealing with something tangible; at least he would +be no longer in the dark. He stepped slowly forward with outstretched hands, +until his foot struck the bottom step; then he rapidly scaled the stairs, stood +for a moment to compose his expression, lifted the arras and went in. +</p> + +<p> +He found himself in a large apartment of polished stone. There were three +doors; one on each of three sides; all similarly curtained with tapestry. The +fourth side was occupied by two large windows and a great stone chimney-piece, +carved with the arms of the Malétroits. Denis recognised the bearings, and was +gratified to find himself in such good hands. The room was strongly +illuminated; but it contained little furniture except a heavy table and a chair +or two, the hearth was innocent of fire, and the pavement was but sparsely +strewn with rushes clearly many days old. +</p> + +<p> +On a high chair beside the chimney, and directly facing Denis as he entered, +sat a little old gentleman in a fur tippet. He sat with his legs crossed and +his hands folded, and a cup of spiced wine stood by his elbow on a bracket on +the wall. His countenance had a strongly masculine cast; not properly human, +but such as we see in the bull, the goat, or the domestic boar; something +equivocal and wheedling, something greedy, brutal, and dangerous. The upper lip +was inordinately full, as though swollen by a blow or a toothache; and the +smile, the peaked eyebrows, and the small, strong eyes were quaintly and almost +comically evil in expression. Beautiful white hair hung straight all round his +head, like a saint’s, and fell in a single curl upon the tippet. His +beard and moustache were the pink of venerable sweetness. Age, probably in +consequence of inordinate precautions, had left no mark upon his hands; and the +Malétroit hand was famous. It would be difficult to imagine anything at once so +fleshy and so delicate in design; the taper, sensual fingers were like those of +one of Leonardo’s women; the fork of the thumb made a dimpled +protuberance when closed; the nails were perfectly shaped, and of a dead, +surprising whiteness. It rendered his aspect tenfold more redoubtable, that a +man with hands like these should keep them devoutly folded in his lap like a +virgin martyr—that a man with so intense and startling an expression of +face should sit patiently on his seat and contemplate people with an unwinking +stare, like a god, or a god’s statue. His quiescence seemed ironical and +treacherous, it fitted so poorly with his looks. +</p> + +<p> +Such was Alain, Sire de Malétroit. +</p> + +<p> +Denis and he looked silently at each other for a second or two. +</p> + +<p> +“Pray step in,” said the Sire de Malétroit. “I have been +expecting you all the evening.” +</p> + +<p> +He had not risen, but he accompanied his words with a smile and a slight but +courteous inclination of the head. Partly from the smile, partly from the +strange musical murmur with which the Sire prefaced his observation, Denis felt +a strong shudder of disgust go through his marrow. And what with disgust and +honest confusion of mind, he could scarcely get words together in reply. +</p> + +<p> +“I fear,” he said, “that this is a double accident. I am not +the person you suppose me. It seems you were looking for a visit; but for my +part, nothing was further from my thoughts—nothing could be more contrary +to my wishes—than this intrusion.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, well,” replied the old gentleman indulgently, “here +you are, which is the main point. Seat yourself, my friend, and put yourself +entirely at your ease. We shall arrange our little affairs presently.” +</p> + +<p> +Denis perceived that the matter was still complicated with some misconception, +and he hastened to continue his explanations. +</p> + +<p> +“Your door . . . ” he began. +</p> + +<p> +“About my door?” asked the other, raising his peaked eyebrows. +“A little piece of ingenuity.” And he shrugged his shoulders. +“A hospitable fancy! By your own account, you were not desirous of making +my acquaintance. We old people look for such reluctance now and then; and when +it touches our honour, we cast about until we find some way of overcoming it. +You arrive uninvited, but believe me, very welcome.” +</p> + +<p> +“You persist in error, sir,” said Denis. “There can be no +question between you and me. I am a stranger in this countryside. My name is +Denis, damoiseau de Beaulieu. If you see me in your house, it is +only—” +</p> + +<p> +“My young friend,” interrupted the other, “you will permit me +to have my own ideas on that subject. They probably differ from yours at the +present moment,” he added with a leer, “but time will show which of +us is in the right.” +</p> + +<p> +Denis was convinced he had to do with a lunatic. He seated himself with a +shrug, content to wait the upshot; and a pause ensued, during which he thought +he could distinguish a hurried gabbling as of prayer from behind the arras +immediately opposite him. Sometimes there seemed to be but one person engaged, +sometimes two; and the vehemence of the voice, low as it was, seemed to +indicate either great haste or an agony of spirit. It occurred to him that this +piece of tapestry covered the entrance to the chapel he had noticed from +without. +</p> + +<p> +The old gentleman meanwhile surveyed Denis from head to foot with a smile, and +from time to time emitted little noises like a bird or a mouse, which seemed to +indicate a high degree of satisfaction. This state of matters became rapidly +insupportable; and Denis, to put an end to it, remarked politely that the wind +had gone down. +</p> + +<p> +The old gentleman fell into a fit of silent laughter, so prolonged and violent +that he became quite red in the face. Denis got upon his feet at once, and put +on his hat with a flourish. +</p> + +<p> +“Sir,” he said, “if you are in your wits, you have affronted +me grossly. If you are out of them, I flatter myself I can find better +employment for my brains than to talk with lunatics. My conscience is clear; +you have made a fool of me from the first moment; you have refused to hear my +explanations; and now there is no power under God will make me stay here any +longer; and if I cannot make my way out in a more decent fashion, I will hack +your door in pieces with my sword.” +</p> + +<p> +The Sire de Malétroit raised his right hand and wagged it at Denis with the +fore and little fingers extended. +</p> + +<p> +“My dear nephew,” he said, “sit down.” +</p> + +<p> +“Nephew!” retorted Denis, “you lie in your throat;” and +he snapped his fingers in his face. +</p> + +<p> +“Sit down, you rogue!” cried the old gentleman, in a sudden, harsh +voice, like the barking of a dog. “Do you fancy,” he went on, +“that when I had made my little contrivance for the door I had stopped +short with that? If you prefer to be bound hand and foot till your bones ache, +rise and try to go away. If you choose to remain a free young buck, agreeably +conversing with an old gentleman—why, sit where you are in peace, and God +be with you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you mean I am a prisoner?” demanded Denis. +</p> + +<p> +“I state the facts,” replied the other. “I would rather leave +the conclusion to yourself.” +</p> + +<p> +Denis sat down again. Externally he managed to keep pretty calm; but within, he +was now boiling with anger, now chilled with apprehension. He no longer felt +convinced that he was dealing with a madman. And if the old gentleman was sane, +what, in God’s name, had he to look for? What absurd or tragical +adventure had befallen him? What countenance was he to assume? +</p> + +<p> +While he was thus unpleasantly reflecting, the arras that overhung the chapel +door was raised, and a tall priest in his robes came forth and, giving a long, +keen stare at Denis, said something in an undertone to Sire de Malétroit. +</p> + +<p> +“She is in a better frame of spirit?” asked the latter. +</p> + +<p> +“She is more resigned, messire,” replied the priest. +</p> + +<p> +“Now the Lord help her, she is hard to please!” sneered the old +gentleman. “A likely stripling—not ill-born—and of her own +choosing, too? Why, what more would the jade have?” +</p> + +<p> +“The situation is not usual for a young damsel,” said the other, +“and somewhat trying to her blushes.” +</p> + +<p> +“She should have thought of that before she began the dance. It was none +of my choosing, God knows that: but since she is in it, by our Lady, she shall +carry it to the end.” And then addressing Denis, “Monsieur de +Beaulieu,” he asked, “may I present you to my niece? She has been +waiting your arrival, I may say, with even greater impatience than +myself.” +</p> + +<p> +Denis had resigned himself with a good grace—all he desired was to know +the worst of it as speedily as possible; so he rose at once, and bowed in +acquiescence. The Sire de Malétroit followed his example and limped, with the +assistance of the chaplain’s arm, towards the chapel door. The priest +pulled aside the arras, and all three entered. The building had considerable +architectural pretensions. A light groining sprang from six stout columns, and +hung down in two rich pendants from the centre of the vault. The place +terminated behind the altar in a round end, embossed and honeycombed with a +superfluity of ornament in relief, and pierced by many little windows shaped +like stars, trefoils, or wheels. These windows were imperfectly glazed, so that +the night air circulated freely in the chapel. The tapers, of which there must +have been half a hundred burning on the altar, were unmercifully blown about; +and the light went through many different phases of brilliancy and +semi-eclipse. On the steps in front of the altar knelt a young girl richly +attired as a bride. A chill settled over Denis as he observed her costume; he +fought with desperate energy against the conclusion that was being thrust upon +his mind; it could not—it should not—be as he feared. +</p> + +<p> +“Blanche,” said the Sire, in his most flute-like tones, “I +have brought a friend to see you, my little girl; turn round and give him your +pretty hand. It is good to be devout; but it is necessary to be polite, my +niece.” +</p> + +<p> +The girl rose to her feet and turned towards the new comers. She moved all of a +piece; and shame and exhaustion were expressed in every line of her fresh young +body; and she held her head down and kept her eyes upon the pavement, as she +came slowly forward. In the course of her advance, her eyes fell upon Denis de +Beaulieu’s feet—feet of which he was justly vain, be it remarked, +and wore in the most elegant accoutrement even while travelling. She +paused—started, as if his yellow boots had conveyed some shocking +meaning—and glanced suddenly up into the wearer’s countenance. +Their eyes met; shame gave place to horror and terror in her looks; the blood +left her lips; with a piercing scream she covered her face with her hands and +sank upon the chapel floor. +</p> + +<p> +“That is not the man!” she cried. “My uncle, that in not the +man!” +</p> + +<p> +The Sire de Malétroit chirped agreeably. “Of course not,” he said; +“I expected as much. It was so unfortunate you could not remember his +name.” +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed,” she cried, “indeed, I have never seen this person +till this moment—I have never so much as set eyes upon him—I never +wish to see him again. Sir,” she said, turning to Denis, “if you +are a gentleman, you will bear me out. Have I ever seen you—have you ever +seen me—before this accursed hour?” +</p> + +<p> +“To speak for myself, I have never had that pleasure,” answered the +young man. “This is the first time, messire, that I have met with your +engaging niece.” +</p> + +<p> +The old gentleman shrugged his shoulders. +</p> + +<p> +“I am distressed to hear it,” he said. “But it is never too +late to begin. I had little more acquaintance with my own late lady ere I +married her; which proves,” he added with a grimace, “that these +impromptu marriages may often produce an excellent understanding in the +long-run. As the bridegroom is to have a voice in the matter, I will give him +two hours to make up for lost time before we proceed with the ceremony.” +And he turned towards the door, followed by the clergyman. +</p> + +<p> +The girl was on her feet in a moment. “My uncle, you cannot be in +earnest,” she said. “I declare before God I will stab myself rather +than be forced on that young man. The heart rises at it; God forbids such +marriages; you dishonour your white hair. Oh, my uncle, pity me! There is not a +woman in all the world but would prefer death to such a nuptial. Is it +possible,” she added, faltering—“is it possible that you do +not believe me—that you still think this”—and she pointed at +Denis with a tremor of anger and contempt—“that you still think +<i>this</i> to be the man?” +</p> + +<p> +“Frankly,” said the old gentleman, pausing on the threshold, +“I do. But let me explain to you once for all, Blanche de Malétroit, my +way of thinking about this affair. When you took it into your head to dishonour +my family and the name that I have borne, in peace and war, for more than +three-score years, you forfeited, not only the right to question my designs, +but that of looking me in the face. If your father had been alive, he would +have spat on you and turned you out of doors. His was the hand of iron. You may +bless your God you have only to deal with the hand of velvet, mademoiselle. It +was my duty to get you married without delay. Out of pure goodwill, I have +tried to find your own gallant for you. And I believe I have succeeded. But +before God and all the holy angels, Blanche de Malétroit, if I have not, I care +not one jack-straw. So let me recommend you to be polite to our young friend; +for upon my word, your next groom may be less appetising.” +</p> + +<p> +And with that he went out, with the chaplain at his heels; and the arras fell +behind the pair. +</p> + +<p> +The girl turned upon Denis with flashing eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“And what, sir,” she demanded, “may be the meaning of all +this?” +</p> + +<p> +“God knows,” returned Denis gloomily. “I am a prisoner in +this house, which seems full of mad people. More I know not; and nothing do I +understand.” +</p> + +<p> +“And pray how came you here?” she asked. +</p> + +<p> +He told her as briefly as he could. “For the rest,” he added, +“perhaps you will follow my example, and tell me the answer to all these +riddles, and what, in God’s name, is like to be the end of it.” +</p> + +<p> +She stood silent for a little, and he could see her lips tremble and her +tearless eyes burn with a feverish lustre. Then she pressed her forehead in +both hands. +</p> + +<p> +“Alas, how my head aches!” she said wearily—“to say +nothing of my poor heart! But it is due to you to know my story, unmaidenly as +it must seem. I am called Blanche de Malétroit; I have been without father or +mother for—oh! for as long as I can recollect, and indeed I have been +most unhappy all my life. Three months ago a young captain began to stand near +me every day in church. I could see that I pleased him; I am much to blame, but +I was so glad that any one should love me; and when he passed me a letter, I +took it home with me and read it with great pleasure. Since that time he has +written many. He was so anxious to speak with me, poor fellow! and kept asking +me to leave the door open some evening that we might have two words upon the +stair. For he knew how much my uncle trusted me.” She gave something like +a sob at that, and it was a moment before she could go on. “My uncle is a +hard man, but he is very shrewd,” she said at last. “He has +performed many feats in war, and was a great person at court, and much trusted +by Queen Isabeau in old days. How he came to suspect me I cannot tell; but it +is hard to keep anything from his knowledge; and this morning, as we came from +mass, he took my hand in his, forced it open, and read my little billet, +walking by my side all the while. When he had finished, he gave it back to me +with great politeness. It contained another request to have the door left open; +and this has been the ruin of us all. My uncle kept me strictly in my room +until evening, and then ordered me to dress myself as you see me—a hard +mockery for a young girl, do you not think so? I suppose, when he could not +prevail with me to tell him the young captain’s name, he must have laid a +trap for him: into which, alas! you have fallen in the anger of God. I looked +for much confusion; for how could I tell whether he was willing to take me for +his wife on these sharp terms? He might have been trifling with me from the +first; or I might have made myself too cheap in his eyes. But truly I had not +looked for such a shameful punishment as this! I could not think that God would +let a girl be so disgraced before a young man. And now I have told you all; and +I can scarcely hope that you will not despise me.” +</p> + +<p> +Denis made her a respectful inclination. +</p> + +<p> +“Madam,” he said, “you have honoured me by your confidence. +It remains for me to prove that I am not unworthy of the honour. Is Messire de +Malétroit at hand?” +</p> + +<p> +“I believe he is writing in the salle without,” she answered. +</p> + +<p> +“May I lead you thither, madam?” asked Denis, offering his hand +with his most courtly bearing. +</p> + +<p> +She accepted it; and the pair passed out of the chapel, Blanche in a very +drooping and shamefast condition, but Denis strutting and ruffling in the +consciousness of a mission, and the boyish certainty of accomplishing it with +honour. +</p> + +<p> +The Sire de Malétroit rose to meet them with an ironical obeisance. +</p> + +<p> +“Sir,” said Denis, with the grandest possible air, “I believe +I am to have some say in the matter of this marriage; and let me tell you at +once, I will be no party to forcing the inclination of this young lady. Had it +been freely offered to me, I should have been proud to accept her hand, for I +perceive she is as good as she is beautiful; but as things are, I have now the +honour, messire, of refusing.” +</p> + +<p> +Blanche looked at him with gratitude in her eyes; but the old gentleman only +smiled and smiled, until his smile grew positively sickening to Denis. +</p> + +<p> +“I am afraid,” he said, “Monsieur de Beaulieu, that you do +not perfectly understand the choice I have to offer you. Follow me, I beseech +you, to this window.” And he led the way to one of the large windows +which stood open on the night. “You observe,” he went on, +“there is an iron ring in the upper masonry, and reeved through that, a +very efficacious rope. Now, mark my words; if you should find your +disinclination to my niece’s person insurmountable, I shall have you +hanged out of this window before sunrise. I shall only proceed to such an +extremity with the greatest regret, you may believe me. For it is not at all +your death that I desire, but my niece’s establishment in life. At the +same time, it must come to that if you prove obstinate. Your family, Monsieur +de Beaulieu, is very well in its way; but if you sprang from Charlemagne, you +should not refuse the hand of a Malétroit with impunity—not if she had +been as common as the Paris road—not if she were as hideous as the +gargoyle over my door. Neither my niece nor you, nor my own private feelings, +move me at all in this matter. The honour of my house has been compromised; I +believe you to be the guilty person; at least you are now in the secret; and +you can hardly wonder if I request you to wipe out the stain. If you will not, +your blood be on your own head! It will be no great satisfaction to me to have +your interesting relics kicking their heels in the breeze below my windows; but +half a loaf is better than no bread, and if I cannot cure the dishonour, I +shall at least stop the scandal.” +</p> + +<p> +There was a pause. +</p> + +<p> +“I believe there are other ways of settling such imbroglios among +gentlemen,” said Denis. “You wear a sword, and I hear you have used +it with distinction.” +</p> + +<p> +The Sire de Malétroit made a signal to the chaplain, who crossed the room with +long silent strides and raised the arras over the third of the three doors. It +was only a moment before he let it fall again; but Denis had time to see a +dusky passage full of armed men. +</p> + +<p> +“When I was a little younger, I should have been delighted to honour you, +Monsieur de Beaulieu,” said Sire Alain; “but I am now too old. +Faithful retainers are the sinews of age, and I must employ the strength I +have. This is one of the hardest things to swallow as a man grows up in years; +but with a little patience, even this becomes habitual. You and the lady seem +to prefer the salle for what remains of your two hours; and as I have no desire +to cross your preference, I shall resign it to your use with all the pleasure +in the world. No haste!” he added, holding up his hand, as he saw a +dangerous look come into Denis de Beaulieu’s face. “If your mind +revolts against hanging, it will be time enough two hours hence to throw +yourself out of the window or upon the pikes of my retainers. Two hours of life +are always two hours. A great many things may turn up in even as little a while +as that. And, besides, if I understand her appearance, my niece has still +something to say to you. You will not disfigure your last hours by a want of +politeness to a lady?” +</p> + +<p> +Denis looked at Blanche, and she made him an imploring gesture. +</p> + +<p> +It is likely that the old gentleman was hugely pleased at this symptom of an +understanding; for he smiled on both, and added sweetly: “If you will +give me your word of honour, Monsieur de Beaulieu, to await my return at the +end of the two hours before attempting anything desperate, I shall withdraw my +retainers, and let you speak in greater privacy with mademoiselle.” +</p> + +<p> +Denis again glanced at the girl, who seemed to beseech him to agree. +</p> + +<p> +“I give you my word of honour,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +Messire de Malétroit bowed, and proceeded to limp about the apartment, clearing +his throat the while with that odd musical chirp which had already grown so +irritating in the ears of Denis de Beaulieu. He first possessed himself of some +papers which lay upon the table; then he went to the mouth of the passage and +appeared to give an order to the men behind the arras; and lastly he hobbled +out through the door by which Denis had come in, turning upon the threshold to +address a last smiling bow to the young couple, and followed by the chaplain +with a hand-lamp. +</p> + +<p> +No sooner were they alone than Blanche advanced towards Denis with her hands +extended. Her face was flushed and excited, and her eyes shone with tears. +</p> + +<p> +“You shall not die!” she cried, “you shall marry me after +all.” +</p> + +<p> +“You seem to think, madam,” replied Denis, “that I stand much +in fear of death.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh no, no,” she said, “I see you are no poltroon. It is for +my own sake—I could not bear to have you slain for such a scruple.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am afraid,” returned Denis, “that you underrate the +difficulty, madam. What you may be too generous to refuse, I may be too proud +to accept. In a moment of noble feeling towards me, you forgot what you perhaps +owe to others.” +</p> + +<p> +He had the decency to keep his eyes upon the floor as he said this, and after +he had finished, so as not to spy upon her confusion. She stood silent for a +moment, then walked suddenly away, and falling on her uncle’s chair, +fairly burst out sobbing. Denis was in the acme of embarrassment. He looked +round, as if to seek for inspiration, and seeing a stool, plumped down upon it +for something to do. There he sat, playing with the guard of his rapier, and +wishing himself dead a thousand times over, and buried in the nastiest +kitchen-heap in France. His eyes wandered round the apartment, but found +nothing to arrest them. There were such wide spaces between the furniture, the +light fell so baldly and cheerlessly over all, the dark outside air looked in +so coldly through the windows, that he thought he had never seen a church so +vast, nor a tomb so melancholy. The regular sobs of Blanche de Malétroit +measured out the time like the ticking of a clock. He read the device upon the +shield over and over again, until his eyes became obscured; he stared into +shadowy corners until he imagined they were swarming with horrible animals; and +every now and again he awoke with a start, to remember that his last two hours +were running, and death was on the march. +</p> + +<p> +Oftener and oftener, as the time went on, did his glance settle on the girl +herself. Her face was bowed forward and covered with her hands, and she was +shaken at intervals by the convulsive hiccup of grief. Even thus she was not an +unpleasant object to dwell upon, so plump and yet so fine, with a warm brown +skin, and the most beautiful hair, Denis thought, in the whole world of +womankind. Her hands were like her uncle’s; but they were more in place +at the end of her young arms, and looked infinitely soft and caressing. He +remembered how her blue eyes had shone upon him, full of anger, pity, and +innocence. And the more he dwelt on her perfections, the uglier death looked, +and the more deeply was he smitten with penitence at her continued tears. Now +he felt that no man could have the courage to leave a world which contained so +beautiful a creature; and now he would have given forty minutes of his last +hour to have unsaid his cruel speech. +</p> + +<p> +Suddenly a hoarse and ragged peal of cockcrow rose to their ears from the dark +valley below the windows. And this shattering noise in the silence of all +around was like a light in a dark place, and shook them both out of their +reflections. +</p> + +<p> +“Alas, can I do nothing to help you?” she said, looking up. +</p> + +<p> +“Madam,” replied Denis, with a fine irrelevancy, “if I have +said anything to wound you, believe me, it was for your own sake and not for +mine.” +</p> + +<p> +She thanked him with a tearful look. +</p> + +<p> +“I feel your position cruelly,” he went on. “The world has +been bitter hard on you. Your uncle is a disgrace to mankind. Believe me, +madam, there is no young gentleman in all France but would be glad of my +opportunity, to die in doing you a momentary service.” +</p> + +<p> +“I know already that you can be very brave and generous,” she +answered. “What I <i>want</i> to know is whether I can serve +you—now or afterwards,” she added, with a quaver. +</p> + +<p> +“Most certainly,” he answered with a smile. “Let me sit +beside you as if I were a friend, instead of a foolish intruder; try to forget +how awkwardly we are placed to one another; make my last moments go pleasantly; +and you will do me the chief service possible.” +</p> + +<p> +“You are very gallant,” she added, with a yet deeper sadness . . . +“very gallant . . . and it somehow pains me. But draw nearer, if you +please; and if you find anything to say to me, you will at least make certain +of a very friendly listener. Ah! Monsieur de Beaulieu,” she broke +forth—“ah! Monsieur de Beaulieu, how can I look you in the +face?” And she fell to weeping again with a renewed effusion. +</p> + +<p> +“Madam,” said Denis, taking her hand in both of his, “reflect +on the little time I have before me, and the great bitterness into which I am +cast by the sight of your distress. Spare me, in my last moments, the spectacle +of what I cannot cure even with the sacrifice of my life.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am very selfish,” answered Blanche. “I will be braver, +Monsieur de Beaulieu, for your sake. But think if I can do you no kindness in +the future—if you have no friends to whom I could carry your adieux. +Charge me as heavily as you can; every burden will lighten, by so little, the +invaluable gratitude I owe you. Put it in my power to do something more for you +than weep.” +</p> + +<p> +“My mother is married again, and has a young family to care for. My +brother Guichard will inherit my fiefs; and if I am not in error, that will +content him amply for my death. Life is a little vapour that passeth away, as +we are told by those in holy orders. When a man is in a fair way and sees all +life open in front of him, he seems to himself to make a very important figure +in the world. His horse whinnies to him; the trumpets blow and the girls look +out of window as he rides into town before his company; he receives many +assurances of trust and regard—sometimes by express in a +letter—sometimes face to face, with persons of great consequence falling +on his neck. It is not wonderful if his head is turned for a time. But once he +is dead, were he as brave as Hercules or as wise as Solomon, he is soon +forgotten. It is not ten years since my father fell, with many other knights +around him, in a very fierce encounter, and I do not think that any one of +them, nor so much as the name of the fight, is now remembered. No, no, madam, +the nearer you come to it, you see that death is a dark and dusty corner, where +a man gets into his tomb and has the door shut after him till the judgment day. +I have few friends just now, and once I am dead I shall have none.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, Monsieur de Beaulieu!” she exclaimed, “you forget +Blanche de Malétroit.” +</p> + +<p> +“You have a sweet nature, madam, and you are pleased to estimate a little +service far beyond its worth.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is not that,” she answered. “You mistake me if you think +I am so easily touched by my own concerns. I say so, because you are the +noblest man I have ever met; because I recognise in you a spirit that would +have made even a common person famous in the land.” +</p> + +<p> +“And yet here I die in a mouse-trap—with no more noise about it +than my own squeaking,” answered he. +</p> + +<p> +A look of pain crossed her face, and she was silent for a little while. Then a +fight came into her eyes, and with a smile she spoke again. +</p> + +<p> +“I cannot have my champion think meanly of himself. Any one who gives his +life for another will be met in Paradise by all the heralds and angels of the +Lord God. And you have no such cause to hang your head. For . . . Pray, do you +think me beautiful?” she asked, with a deep flush. +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed, madam, I do,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +“I am glad of that,” she answered heartily. “Do you think +there are many men in France who have been asked in marriage by a beautiful +maiden—with her own lips—and who have refused her to her face? I +know you men would half despise such a triumph; but believe me, we women know +more of what is precious in love. There is nothing that should set a person +higher in his own esteem; and we women would prize nothing more dearly.” +</p> + +<p> +“You are very good,” he said; “but you cannot make me forget +that I was asked in pity and not for love.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am not so sure of that,” she replied, holding down her head. +“Hear me to an end, Monsieur de Beaulieu. I know how you must despise me; +I feel you are right to do so; I am too poor a creature to occupy one thought +of your mind, although, alas! you must die for me this morning. But when I +asked you to marry me, indeed, and indeed, it was because I respected and +admired you, and loved you with my whole soul, from the very moment that you +took my part against my uncle. If you had seen yourself, and how noble you +looked, you would pity rather than despise me. And now,” she went on, +hurriedly checking him with her hand, “although I have laid aside all +reserve and told you so much, remember that I know your sentiments towards me +already. I would not, believe me, being nobly born, weary you with +importunities into consent. I too have a pride of my own: and I declare before +the holy mother of God, if you should now go back from your word already given, +I would no more marry you than I would marry my uncle’s groom.” +</p> + +<p> +Denis smiled a little bitterly. +</p> + +<p> +“It is a small love,” he said, “that shies at a little +pride.” +</p> + +<p> +She made no answer, although she probably had her own thoughts. +</p> + +<p> +“Come hither to the window,” he said, with a sigh. “Here is +the dawn.” +</p> + +<p> +And indeed the dawn was already beginning. The hollow of the sky was full of +essential daylight, colourless and clean; and the valley underneath was flooded +with a grey reflection. A few thin vapours clung in the coves of the forest or +lay along the winding course of the river. The scene disengaged a surprising +effect of stillness, which was hardly interrupted when the cocks began once +more to crow among the steadings. Perhaps the same fellow who had made so +horrid a clangour in the darkness not half-an-hour before, now sent up the +merriest cheer to greet the coming day. A little wind went bustling and eddying +among the tree-tops underneath the windows. And still the daylight kept +flooding insensibly out of the east, which was soon to grow incandescent and +cast up that red-hot cannon-ball, the rising sun. +</p> + +<p> +Denis looked out over all this with a bit of a shiver. He had taken her hand, +and retained it in his almost unconsciously. +</p> + +<p> +“Has the day begun already?” she said; and then, illogically +enough: “the night has been so long! Alas, what shall we say to my uncle +when he returns?” +</p> + +<p> +“What you will,” said Denis, and he pressed her fingers in his. +</p> + +<p> +She was silent. +</p> + +<p> +“Blanche,” he said, with a swift, uncertain, passionate utterance, +“you have seen whether I fear death. You must know well enough that I +would as gladly leap out of that window into the empty air as lay a finger on +you without your free and full consent. But if you care for me at all do not +let me lose my life in a misapprehension; for I love you better than the whole +world; and though I will die for you blithely, it would be like all the joys of +Paradise to live on and spend my life in your service.” +</p> + +<p> +As he stopped speaking, a bell began to ring loudly in the interior of the +house; and a clatter of armour in the corridor showed that the retainers were +returning to their post, and the two hours were at an end. +</p> + +<p> +“After all that you have heard?” she whispered, leaning towards him +with her lips and eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“I have heard nothing,” he replied. +</p> + +<p> +“The captain’s name was Florimond de Champdivers,” she said +in his ear. +</p> + +<p> +“I did not hear it,” he answered, taking her supple body in his +arms and covering her wet face with kisses. +</p> + +<p> +A melodious chirping was audible behind, followed by a beautiful chuckle, and +the voice of Messire de Malétroit wished his new nephew a good morning. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap22"></a>PROVIDENCE AND THE GUITAR</h2> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3>CHAPTER I</h3> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">Monsieur Léon Berthelini</span> had a great care of his +appearance, and sedulously suited his deportment to the costume of the hour. He +affected something Spanish in his air, and something of the bandit, with a +flavour of Rembrandt at home. In person he was decidedly small and inclined to +be stout; his face was the picture of good humour; his dark eyes, which were +very expressive, told of a kind heart, a brisk, merry nature, and the most +indefatigable spirits. If he had worn the clothes of the period you would have +set him down for a hitherto undiscovered hybrid between the barber, the +innkeeper, and the affable dispensing chemist. But in the outrageous bravery of +velvet jacket and flapped hat, with trousers that were more accurately +described as fleshings, a white handkerchief cavalierly knotted at his neck, a +shock of Olympian curls upon his brow, and his feet shod through all weathers +in the slenderest of Molière shoes—you had but to look at him and you +knew you were in the presence of a Great Creature. When he wore an overcoat he +scorned to pass the sleeves; a single button held it round his shoulders; it +was tossed backwards after the manner of a cloak, and carried with the gait and +presence of an Almaviva. I am of opinion that M. Berthelini was nearing forty. +But he had a boy’s heart, gloried in his finery, and walked through life +like a child in a perpetual dramatic performance. If he were not Almaviva after +all, it was not for lack of making believe. And he enjoyed the artist’s +compensation. If he were not really Almaviva, he was sometimes just as happy as +though he were. +</p> + +<p> +I have seen him, at moments when he has fancied himself alone with his Maker, +adopt so gay and chivalrous a bearing, and represent his own part with so much +warmth and conscience, that the illusion became catching, and I believed +implicitly in the Great Creature’s pose. +</p> + +<p> +But, alas! life cannot be entirely conducted on these principles; man cannot +live by Almavivery alone; and the Great Creature, having failed upon several +theatres, was obliged to step down every evening from his heights, and sing +from half-a-dozen to a dozen comic songs, twang a guitar, keep a country +audience in good humour, and preside finally over the mysteries of a tombola. +</p> + +<p> +Madame Berthelini, who was art and part with him in these undignified labours, +had perhaps a higher position in the scale of beings, and enjoyed a natural +dignity of her own. But her heart was not any more rightly placed, for that +would have been impossible; and she had acquired a little air of melancholy, +attractive enough in its way, but not good to see like the wholesome, +sky-scraping, boyish spirits of her lord. +</p> + +<p> +He, indeed, swam like a kite on a fair wind, high above earthly troubles. +Detonations of temper were not unfrequent in the zones he travelled; but sulky +fogs and tearful depressions were there alike unknown. A well-delivered blow +upon a table, or a noble attitude, imitated from Mélingne or Frederic, relieved +his irritation like a vengeance. Though the heaven had fallen, if he had played +his part with propriety, Berthelini had been content! And the man’s +atmosphere, if not his example, reacted on his wife; for the couple doated on +each other, and although you would have thought they walked in different +worlds, yet continued to walk hand in hand. +</p> + +<p> +It chanced one day that Monsieur and Madame Berthelini descended with two boxes +and a guitar in a fat case at the station of the little town of +Castel-le-Gâchis, and the omnibus carried them with their effects to the Hotel +of the Black Head. This was a dismal, conventual building in a narrow street, +capable of standing siege when once the gates were shut, and smelling strangely +in the interior of straw and chocolate and old feminine apparel. Berthelini +paused upon the threshold with a painful premonition. In some former state, it +seemed to him, he had visited a hostelry that smelt not otherwise, and been ill +received. +</p> + +<p> +The landlord, a tragic person in a large felt hat, rose from a business table +under the key-rack, and came forward, removing his hat with both hands as he +did so. +</p> + +<p> +“Sir, I salute you. May I inquire what is your charge for artists?” +inquired Berthelini, with a courtesy at once splendid and insinuating. +</p> + +<p> +“For artists?” said the landlord. His countenance fell and the +smile of welcome disappeared. “Oh, artists!” he added brutally; +“four francs a day.” And he turned his back upon these +inconsiderable customers. +</p> + +<p> +A commercial traveller is received, he also, upon a reduction—yet is he +welcome, yet can he command the fatted calf; but an artist, had he the manners +of an Almaviva, were he dressed like Solomon in all his glory, is received like +a dog and served like a timid lady travelling alone. +</p> + +<p> +Accustomed as he was to the rubs of his profession, Berthelini was unpleasantly +affected by the landlord’s manner. +</p> + +<p> +“Elvira,” said he to his wife, “mark my words: +Castel-le-Gâchis is a tragic folly.” +</p> + +<p> +“Wait till we see what we take,” replied Elvira. +</p> + +<p> +“We shall take nothing,” returned Berthelini; “we shall feed +upon insults. I have an eye, Elvira: I have a spirit of divination; and this +place is accursed. The landlord has been discourteous, the Commissary will be +brutal, the audience will be sordid and uproarious, and you will take a cold +upon your throat. We have been besotted enough to come; the die is +cast—it will be a second Sédan.” +</p> + +<p> +Sédan was a town hateful to the Berthelinis, not only from patriotism (for they +were French, and answered after the flesh to the somewhat homely name of +Duval), but because it had been the scene of their most sad reverses. In that +place they had lain three weeks in pawn for their hotel bill, and had it not +been for a surprising stroke of fortune they might have been lying there in +pawn until this day. To mention the name of Sédan was for the Berthelinis to +dip the brush in earthquake and eclipse. Count Almaviva slouched his hat with a +gesture expressive of despair, and even Elvira felt as if ill-fortune had been +personally invoked. +</p> + +<p> +“Let us ask for breakfast,” said she, with a woman’s tact. +</p> + +<p> +The Commissary of Police of Castel-le-Gâchis was a large red Commissary, +pimpled, and subject to a strong cutaneous transpiration. I have repeated the +name of his office because he was so very much more a Commissary than a man. +The spirit of his dignity had entered into him. He carried his corporation as +if it were something official. Whenever he insulted a common citizen it seemed +to him as if he were adroitly flattering the Government by a side wind; in +default of dignity he was brutal from an overweening sense of duty. His office +was a den, whence passers-by could hear rude accents laying down, not the law, +but the good pleasure of the Commissary. +</p> + +<p> +Six several times in the course of the day did M. Berthelini hurry thither in +quest of the requisite permission for his evening’s entertainment; six +several times he found the official was abroad. Léon Berthelini began to grow +quite a familiar figure in the streets of Castel-le-Gâchis; he became a local +celebrity, and was pointed out as “the man who was looking for the +Commissary.” Idle children attached themselves to his footsteps, and +trotted after him back and forward between the hotel and the office. Léon might +try as he liked; he might roll cigarettes, he might straddle, he might cock his +hat at a dozen different jaunty inclinations—the part of Almaviva was, +under the circumstances, difficult to play. +</p> + +<p> +As he passed the market-place upon the seventh excursion the Commissary was +pointed out to him, where he stood, with his waistcoat unbuttoned and his hands +behind his back, to superintend the sale and measurement of butter. Berthelini +threaded his way through the market stalls and baskets, and accosted the +dignitary with a bow which was a triumph of the histrionic art. +</p> + +<p> +“I have the honour,” he asked, “of meeting M. le +Commissaire?” +</p> + +<p> +The Commissary was affected by the nobility of his address. He excelled Léon in +the depth if not in the airy grace of his salutation. +</p> + +<p> +“The honour,” said he, “is mine!” +</p> + +<p> +“I am,” continued the strolling-player, “I am, sir, an +artist, and I have permitted myself to interrupt you on an affair of business. +To-night I give a trifling musical entertainment at the Café of the Triumphs of +the Plough—permit me to offer you this little programme—and I have +come to ask you for the necessary authorisation.” +</p> + +<p> +At the word “artist,” the Commissary had replaced his hat with the +air of a person who, having condescended too far, should suddenly remember the +duties of his rank. +</p> + +<p> +“Go, go,” said he, “I am busy—I am measuring +butter.” +</p> + +<p> +“Heathen Jew!” thought Léon. “Permit me, sir,” he +resumed aloud. “I have gone six times already—” +</p> + +<p> +“Put up your bills if you choose,” interrupted the Commissary. +“In an hour or so I will examine your papers at the office. But now go; I +am busy.” +</p> + +<p> +“Measuring butter!” thought Berthelini. “Oh, France, and it +is for this that we made ’93!” +</p> + +<p> +The preparations were soon made; the bills posted, programmes laid on the +dinner-table of every hotel in the town, and a stage erected at one end of the +Café of the Triumphs of the Plough; but when Léon returned to the office, the +Commissary was once more abroad. +</p> + +<p> +“He is like Madame Benoîton,” thought Léon, “Fichu +Commissaire!” +</p> + +<p> +And just then he met the man face to face. +</p> + +<p> +“Here, sir,” said he, “are my papers. Will you be pleased to +verify?” +</p> + +<p> +But the Commissary was now intent upon dinner. +</p> + +<p> +“No use,” he replied, “no use; I am busy; I am quite +satisfied. Give your entertainment.” +</p> + +<p> +And he hurried on. +</p> + +<p> +“Fichu Commissaire!” thought Léon. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3>CHAPTER II</h3> + +<p> +The audience was pretty large; and the proprietor of the café made a good thing +of it in beer. But the Berthelinis exerted themselves in vain. +</p> + +<p> +Léon was radiant in velveteen; he had a rakish way of smoking a cigarette +between his songs that was worth money in itself; he underlined his comic +points, so that the dullest numskull in Castel-le-Gâchis had a notion when to +laugh; and he handled his guitar in a manner worthy of himself. Indeed his play +with that instrument was as good as a whole romantic drama; it was so dashing, +so florid, and so cavalier. +</p> + +<p> +Elvira, on the other hand, sang her patriotic and romantic songs with more than +usual expression; her voice had charm and plangency; and as Léon looked at her, +in her low-bodied maroon dress, with her arms bare to the shoulder, and a red +flower set provocatively in her corset, he repeated to himself for the many +hundredth time that she was one of the loveliest creatures in the world of +women. +</p> + +<p> +Alas! when she went round with the tambourine, the golden youth of +Castel-le-Gâchis turned from her coldly. Here and there a single halfpenny was +forthcoming; the net result of a collection never exceeded half a franc; and +the Maire himself, after seven different applications, had contributed exactly +twopence. A certain chill began to settle upon the artists themselves; it +seemed as if they were singing to slugs; Apollo himself might have lost heart +with such an audience. The Berthelinis struggled against the impression; they +put their back into their work, they sang loud and louder, the guitar twanged +like a living thing; and at last Léon arose in his might, and burst with +inimitable conviction into his great song, “Y a des honnêtes gens +partout!” Never had he given more proof of his artistic mastery; it was +his intimate, indefeasible conviction that Castel-le-Gâchis formed an exception +to the law he was now lyrically proclaiming, and was peopled exclusively by +thieves and bullies; and yet, as I say, he flung it down like a challenge, he +trolled it forth like an article of faith; and his face so beamed the while +that you would have thought he must make converts of the benches. +</p> + +<p> +He was at the top of his register, with his head thrown back and his mouth +open, when the door was thrown violently open, and a pair of new comers marched +noisily into the café. It was the Commissary, followed by the Garde Champêtre. +</p> + +<p> +The undaunted Berthelini still continued to proclaim, “Y a des honnêtes +gens partout!” But now the sentiment produced an audible titter among the +audience. Berthelini wondered why; he did not know the antecedents of the Garde +Champêtre; he had never heard of a little story about postage stamps. But the +public knew all about the postage stamps and enjoyed the coincidence hugely. +</p> + +<p> +The Commissary planted himself upon a vacant chair with somewhat the air of +Cromwell visiting the Rump, and spoke in occasional whispers to the Garde +Champêtre, who remained respectfully standing at his back. The eyes of both +were directed upon Berthelini, who persisted in his statement. +</p> + +<p> +“Y a des honnêtes gens partout,” he was just chanting for the +twentieth time; when up got the Commissary upon his feet and waved brutally to +the singer with his cane. +</p> + +<p> +“Is it me you want?” inquired Léon, stopping in his song. +</p> + +<p> +“It is you,” replied the potentate. +</p> + +<p> +“Fichu Commissaire!” thought Léon, and he descended from the stage +and made his way to the functionary. +</p> + +<p> +“How does it happen, sir,” said the Commissary, swelling in person, +“that I find you mountebanking in a public café without my +permission?” +</p> + +<p> +“Without?” cried the indignant Léon. “Permit me to remind +you—” +</p> + +<p> +“Come, come, sir!” said the Commissary, “I desire no +explanations.” +</p> + +<p> +“I care nothing about what you desire,” returned the singer. +“I choose to give them, and I will not be gagged. I am an artist, sir, a +distinction that you cannot comprehend. I received your permission and stand +here upon the strength of it; interfere with me who dare.” +</p> + +<p> +“You have not got my signature, I tell you,” cried the Commissary. +“Show me my signature! Where is my signature?” +</p> + +<p> +That was just the question; where was his signature? Léon recognised that he +was in a hole; but his spirit rose with the occasion, and he blustered nobly, +tossing back his curls. The Commissary played up to him in the character of +tyrant; and as the one leaned farther forward, the other leaned farther +back—majesty confronting fury. The audience had transferred their +attention to this new performance, and listened with that silent gravity common +to all Frenchmen in the neighbourhood of the Police. Elvira had sat down, she +was used to these distractions, and it was rather melancholy than fear that now +oppressed her. +</p> + +<p> +“Another word,” cried the Commissary, “and I arrest +you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Arrest me?” shouted Léon. “I defy you!” +</p> + +<p> +“I am the Commissary of Police,” said the official. +</p> + +<p> +Léon commanded his feelings, and replied, with great delicacy of +innuendo— +</p> + +<p> +“So it would appear.” +</p> + +<p> +The point was too refined for Castel-le-Gâchis; it did not raise a smile; and +as for the Commissary, he simply bade the singer follow him to his office, and +directed his proud footsteps towards the door. There was nothing for it but to +obey. Léon did so with a proper pantomime of indifference, but it was a leek to +eat, and there was no denying it. +</p> + +<p> +The Maire had slipped out and was already waiting at the Commissary’s +door. Now the Maire, in France, is the refuge of the oppressed. He stands +between his people and the boisterous rigours of the Police. He can sometimes +understand what is said to him; he is not always puffed up beyond measure by +his dignity. ’Tis a thing worth the knowledge of travellers. When all +seems over, and a man has made up his mind to injustice, he has still, like the +heroes of romance, a little bugle at his belt whereon to blow; and the Maire, a +comfortable <i>deus ex machinâ</i>, may still descend to deliver him from the +minions of the law. The Maire of Castel-le-Gâchis, although inaccessible to the +charms of music as retailed by the Berthelinis, had no hesitation whatever as +to the rights of the matter. He instantly fell foul of the Commissary in very +high terms, and the Commissary, pricked by this humiliation, accepted battle on +the point of fact. The argument lasted some little while with varying success, +until at length victory inclined so plainly to the Commissary’s side that +the Maire was fain to reassert himself by an exercise of authority. He had been +out-argued, but he was still the Maire. And so, turning from his interlocutor, +he briefly but kindly recommended Léon to get back instanter to his concert. +</p> + +<p> +“It is already growing late,” he added. +</p> + +<p> +Léon did not wait to be told twice. He returned to the Café of the Triumphs of +the Plough with all expedition. Alas! the audience had melted away during his +absence; Elvira was sitting in a very disconsolate attitude on the guitar-box; +she had watched the company dispersing by twos and threes, and the prolonged +spectacle had somewhat overwhelmed her spirits. Each man, she reflected, +retired with a certain proportion of her earnings in his pocket, and she saw +to-night’s board and to-morrow’s railway expenses, and finally even +to-morrow’s dinner, walk one after another out of the café door and +disappear into the night. +</p> + +<p> +“What was it?” she asked languidly. But Léon did not answer. He was +looking round him on the scene of defeat. Scarce a score of listeners remained, +and these of the least promising sort. The minute hand of the clock was already +climbing upward towards eleven. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s a lost battle,” said he, and then taking up the +money-box he turned it out. “Three francs seventy-five!” he cried, +“as against four of board and six of railway fares; and no time for the +tombola! Elvira, this is Waterloo.” And he sat down and passed both hands +desperately among his curls. “O Fichu Commissaire!” he cried, +“Fichu Commissaire!” +</p> + +<p> +“Let us get the things together and be off,” returned Elvira. +“We might try another song, but there is not six halfpence in the +room.” +</p> + +<p> +“Six halfpence?” cried Léon, “six hundred thousand devils! +There is not a human creature in the town—nothing but pigs and dogs and +commissaires! Pray heaven, we get safe to bed.” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t imagine things!” exclaimed Elvira, with a shudder. +</p> + +<p> +And with that they set to work on their preparations. The tobacco-jar, the +cigarette-holder, the three papers of shirt-studs, which were to have been the +prices of the tombola had the tombola come off, were made into a bundle with +the music; the guitar was stowed into the fat guitar-case; and Elvira having +thrown a thin shawl about her neck and shoulders, the pair issued from the café +and set off for the Black Head. +</p> + +<p> +As they crossed the market-place the church bell rang out eleven. It was a +dark, mild night, and there was no one in the streets. +</p> + +<p> +“It is all very fine,” said Léon; “but I have a presentiment. +The night is not yet done.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3>CHAPTER III</h3> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">The</span> “Black Head” presented not a single +chink of light upon the street, and the carriage gate was closed. +</p> + +<p> +“This is unprecedented,” observed Léon. “An inn closed by +five minutes after eleven! And there were several commercial travellers in the +café up to a late hour. Elvira, my heart misgives me. Let us ring the +bell.” +</p> + +<p> +The bell had a potent note; and being swung under the arch it filled the house +from top to bottom with surly, clanging reverberations. The sound accentuated +the conventual appearance of the building; a wintry sentiment, a thought of +prayer and mortification, took hold upon Elvira’s mind; and, as for Léon, +he seemed to be reading the stage directions for a lugubrious fifth act. +</p> + +<p> +“This is your fault,” said Elvira: “this is what comes of +fancying things!” +</p> + +<p> +Again Léon pulled the bell-rope; again the solemn tocsin awoke the echoes of +the inn; and ere they had died away, a light glimmered in the carriage +entrance, and a powerful voice was heard upraised and tremulous with wrath. +</p> + +<p> +“What’s all this?” cried the tragic host through the spars of +the gate. “Hard upon twelve, and you come clamouring like Prussians at +the door of a respectable hotel? Oh!” he cried, “I know you now! +Common singers! People in trouble with the police! And you present yourselves +at midnight like lords and ladies? Be off with you!” +</p> + +<p> +“You will permit me to remind you,” replied Léon, in thrilling +tones, “that I am a guest in your house, that I am properly inscribed, +and that I have deposited baggage to the value of four hundred francs.” +</p> + +<p> +“You cannot get in at this hour,” returned the man. “This is +no thieves’ tavern, for mohocks and night rakes and +organ-grinders.” +</p> + +<p> +“Brute!” cried Elvira, for the organ-grinders touched her home. +</p> + +<p> +“Then I demand my baggage,” said Léon, with unabated dignity. +</p> + +<p> +“I know nothing of your baggage,” replied the landlord. +</p> + +<p> +“You detain my baggage? You dare to detain my baggage?” cried the +singer. +</p> + +<p> +“Who are you?” returned the landlord. “It is dark—I +cannot recognise you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very well, then—you detain my baggage,” concluded Léon. +“You shall smart for this. I will weary out your life with persecutions; +I will drag you from court to court; if there is justice to be had in France, +it shall be rendered between you and me. And I will make you a by-word—I +will put you in a song—a scurrilous song—an indecent song—a +popular song—which the boys shall sing to you in the street, and come and +howl through these spars at midnight!” +</p> + +<p> +He had gone on raising his voice at every phrase, for all the while the +landlord was very placidly retiring; and now, when the last glimmer of light +had vanished from the arch, and the last footstep died away in the interior, +Léon turned to his wife with a heroic countenance. +</p> + +<p> +“Elvira,” said he, “I have now a duty in life. I shall +destroy that man as Eugène Sue destroyed the concierge. Let us come at once to +the Gendarmerie and begin our vengeance.” +</p> + +<p> +He picked up the guitar-case, which had been propped against the wall, and they +set forth through the silent and ill-lighted town with burning hearts. +</p> + +<p> +The Gendarmerie was concealed beside the telegraph office at the bottom of a +vast court, which was partly laid out in gardens; and here all the shepherds of +the public lay locked in grateful sleep. It took a deal of knocking to waken +one; and he, when he came at last to the door, could find no other remark but +that “it was none of his business.” Léon reasoned with him, +threatened him, besought him; “here,” he said, “was Madame +Berthelini in evening dress—a delicate woman—in an interesting +condition”—the last was thrown in, I fancy, for effect; and to all +this the man-at-arms made the same answer: +</p> + +<p> +“It is none of my business,” said he. +</p> + +<p> +“Very well,” said Léon, “then we shall go to the +Commissary.” Thither they went; the office was closed and dark; but the +house was close by, and Léon was soon swinging the bell like a madman. The +Commissary’s wife appeared at a window. She was a thread-paper creature, +and informed them that the Commissary had not yet come home. +</p> + +<p> +“Is he at the Maire’s?” demanded Léon. +</p> + +<p> +She thought that was not unlikely. +</p> + +<p> +“Where is the Maire’s house?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +And she gave him some rather vague information on that point. +</p> + +<p> +“Stay you here, Elvira,” said Léon, “lest I should miss him +by the way. If, when I return, I find you here no longer, I shall follow at +once to the Black Head.” +</p> + +<p> +And he set out to find the Maire’s. It took him some ten minutes +wandering among blind lanes, and when he arrived it was already half-an-hour +past midnight. A long white garden wall overhung by some thick chestnuts, a +door with a letter-box, and an iron bell-pull, that was all that could be seen +of the Maire’s domicile. Léon took the bell-pull in both hands, and +danced furiously upon the side-walk. The bell itself was just upon the other +side of the wall, it responded to his activity, and scattered an alarming +clangour far and wide into the night. +</p> + +<p> +A window was thrown open in a house across the street, and a voice inquired the +cause of this untimely uproar. +</p> + +<p> +“I wish the Maire,” said Léon. +</p> + +<p> +“He has been in bed this hour,” returned the voice. +</p> + +<p> +“He must get up again,” retorted Léon, and he was for tackling the +bell-pull once more. +</p> + +<p> +“You will never make him hear,” responded the voice. “The +garden is of great extent, the house is at the farther end, and both the Maire +and his housekeeper are deaf.” +</p> + +<p> +“Aha!” said Léon, pausing. “The Maire is deaf, is he? That +explains.” And he thought of the evening’s concert with a momentary +feeling of relief. “Ah!” he continued, “and so the Maire is +deaf, and the garden vast, and the house at the far end?” +</p> + +<p> +“And you might ring all night,” added the voice, “and be none +the better for it. You would only keep me awake.” +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you, neighbour,” replied the singer. “You shall +sleep.” +</p> + +<p> +And he made off again at his best pace for the Commissary’s. Elvira was +still walking to and fro before the door. +</p> + +<p> +“He has not come?” asked Léon. +</p> + +<p> +“Not he,” she replied. +</p> + +<p> +“Good,” returned Léon. “I am sure our man’s inside. Let +me see the guitar-case. I shall lay this siege in form, Elvira; I am angry; I +am indignant; I am truculently inclined; but I thank my Maker I have still a +sense of fun. The unjust judge shall be importuned in a serenade, Elvira. Set +him up—and set him up.” +</p> + +<p> +He had the case opened by this time, struck a few chords, and fell into an +attitude which was irresistibly Spanish. +</p> + +<p> +“Now,” he continued, “feel your voice. Are you ready? Follow +me!” +</p> + +<p> +The guitar twanged, and the two voices upraised, in harmony and with a +startling loudness, the chorus of a song of old Béranger’s:— +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +“Commissaire! Commissaire!<br/> +Colin bat sa ménagère.” +</p> + +<p> +The stones of Castel-le-Gâchis thrilled at this audacious innovation. Hitherto +had the night been sacred to repose and nightcaps; and now what was this? +Window after window was opened; matches scratched, and candles began to +flicker; swollen sleepy faces peered forth into the starlight. There were the +two figures before the Commissary’s house, each bolt upright, with head +thrown back and eyes interrogating the starry heavens; the guitar wailed, +shouted, and reverberated like half an orchestra; and the voices, with a crisp +and spirited delivery, hurled the appropriate burden at the Commissary’s +window. All the echoes repeated the functionary’s name. It was more like +an entr’acte in a farce of Molière’s than a passage of real life in +Castel-le-Gâchis. +</p> + +<p> +The Commissary, if he was not the first, was not the last of the neighbours to +yield to the influence of music, and furiously throw open the window of his +bedroom. He was beside himself with rage. He leaned far over the window-sill, +raving and gesticulating; the tassel of his white night-cap danced like a thing +of life: he opened his mouth to dimensions hitherto unprecedented, and yet his +voice, instead of escaping from it in a roar, came forth shrill and choked and +tottering. A little more serenading, and it was clear he would be better +acquainted with the apoplexy. +</p> + +<p> +I scorn to reproduce his language; he touched upon too many serious topics by +the way for a quiet story-teller. Although he was known for a man who was +prompt with his tongue, and had a power of strong expression at command, he +excelled himself so remarkably this night that one maiden lady, who had got out +of bed like the rest to hear the serenade, was obliged to shut her window at +the second clause. Even what she had heard disquieted her conscience; and next +day she said she scarcely reckoned as a maiden lady any longer. +</p> + +<p> +Léon tried to explain his predicament, but he received nothing but threats of +arrest by way of answer. +</p> + +<p> +“If I come down to you!” cried the Commissary. +</p> + +<p> +“Aye,” said Léon, “do!” +</p> + +<p> +“I will not!” cried the Commissary. +</p> + +<p> +“You dare not!” answered Léon. +</p> + +<p> +At that the Commissary closed his window. +</p> + +<p> +“All is over,” said the singer. “The serenade was perhaps +ill-judged. These boors have no sense of humour.” +</p> + +<p> +“Let us get away from here,” said Elvira, with a shiver. “All +these people looking—it is so rude and so brutal.” And then giving +way once more to passion—“Brutes!” she cried aloud to the +candle-lit spectators—“brutes! brutes! brutes!” +</p> + +<p> +“Sauve qui peut,” said Léon. “You have done it now!” +</p> + +<p> +And taking the guitar in one hand and the case in the other, he led the way +with something too precipitate to be merely called precipitation from the scene +of this absurd adventure. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3>CHAPTER IV</h3> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">To</span> the west of Castel-le-Gâchis four rows of +venerable lime-trees formed, in this starry night, a twilit avenue with two +side aisles of pitch darkness. Here and there stone benches were disposed +between the trunks. There was not a breath of wind; a heavy atmosphere of +perfume hung about the alleys; and every leaf stood stock-still upon its twig. +Hither, after vainly knocking at an inn or two, the Berthelinis came at length +to pass the night. After an amiable contention, Léon insisted on giving his +coat to Elvira, and they sat down together on the first bench in silence. Léon +made a cigarette, which he smoked to an end, looking up into the trees, and, +beyond them, at the constellations, of which he tried vainly to recall the +names. The silence was broken by the church bell; it rang the four quarters on +a light and tinkling measure; then followed a single deep stroke that died +slowly away with a thrill; and stillness resumed its empire. +</p> + +<p> +“One,” said Léon. “Four hours till daylight. It is warm; it +is starry; I have matches and tobacco. Do not let us exaggerate, +Elvira—the experience is positively charming. I feel a glow within me; I +am born again. This is the poetry of life. Think of Cooper’s novels, my +dear.” +</p> + +<p> +“Léon,” she said fiercely, “how can you talk such wicked, +infamous nonsense? To pass all night out-of-doors—it is like a nightmare! +We shall die.” +</p> + +<p> +“You suffer yourself to be led away,” he replied soothingly. +“It is not unpleasant here; only you brood. Come, now, let us repeat a +scene. Shall we try Alceste and Célimène? No? Or a passage from the ‘Two +Orphans’? Come, now, it will occupy your mind; I will play up to you as I +never have played before; I feel art moving in my bones.” +</p> + +<p> +“Hold your tongue,” she cried, “or you will drive me mad! +Will nothing solemnise you—not even this hideous situation?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, hideous!” objected Léon. “Hideous is not the word. Why, +where would you be? ‘Dites, la jeune belle, où voulez-vous +aller?’” he carolled. “Well, now,” he went on, opening +the guitar-case, “there’s another idea for you—sing. Sing +‘Dites, la jeune belle!’ It will compose your spirits, Elvira, I am +sure.” +</p> + +<p> +And without waiting an answer he began to strum the symphony. The first chords +awoke a young man who was lying asleep upon a neighbouring bench. +</p> + +<p> +“Hullo!” cried the young man, “who are you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Under which king, Bezonian?” declaimed the artist. “Speak or +die!” +</p> + +<p> +Or if it was not exactly that, it was something to much the same purpose from a +French tragedy. +</p> + +<p> +The young man drew near in the twilight. He was a tall, powerful, gentlemanly +fellow, with a somewhat puffy face, dressed in a grey tweed suit, with a +deer-stalker hat of the same material; and as he now came forward he carried a +knapsack slung upon one arm. +</p> + +<p> +“Are you camping out here too?” he asked, with a strong English +accent. “I’m not sorry for company.” +</p> + +<p> +Léon explained their misadventure; and the other told them that he was a +Cambridge undergraduate on a walking tour, that he had run short of money, +could no longer pay for his night’s lodging, had already been camping out +for two nights, and feared he should require to continue the same manœuvre for +at least two nights more. +</p> + +<p> +“Luckily, it’s jolly weather,” he concluded. +</p> + +<p> +“You hear that, Elvira,” said Léon. “Madame +Berthelini,” he went on, “is ridiculously affected by this trifling +occurrence. For my part, I find it romantic and far from uncomfortable; or at +least,” he added, shifting on the stone bench, “not quite so +uncomfortable as might have been expected. But pray be seated.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” returned the undergraduate, sitting down, “it’s +rather nice than otherwise when once you’re used to it; only it’s +devilish difficult to get washed. I like the fresh air and these stars and +things.” +</p> + +<p> +“Aha!” said Léon, “Monsieur is an artist.” +</p> + +<p> +“An artist?” returned the other, with a blank stare. “Not if +I know it!” +</p> + +<p> +“Pardon me,” said the actor. “What you said this moment about +the orbs of heaven—” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, nonsense!” cried the Englishman. “A fellow may admire +the stars and be anything he likes.” +</p> + +<p> +“You have an artist’s nature, however, Mr.—I beg your pardon; +may I, without indiscretion, inquire your name?” asked Léon. +</p> + +<p> +“My name is Stubbs,” replied the Englishman. +</p> + +<p> +“I thank you,” returned Léon. “Mine is Berthelini—Léon +Berthelini, ex-artist of the theatres of Montrouge, Belleville, and Montmartre. +Humble as you see me, I have created with applause more than one important +<i>rôle</i>. The Press were unanimous in praise of my Howling Devil of the +Mountains, in the piece of the same name. Madame, whom I now present to you, is +herself an artist, and I must not omit to state, a better artist than her +husband. She also is a creator; she created nearly twenty successful songs at +one of the principal Parisian music-halls. But, to continue, I was saying you +had an artist’s nature, Monsieur Stubbs, and you must permit me to be a +judge in such a question. I trust you will not falsify your instincts; let me +beseech you to follow the career of an artist.” +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you,” returned Stubbs, with a chuckle. “I’m +going to be a banker.” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” said Léon, “do not say so. Not that. A man with such a +nature as yours should not derogate so far. What are a few privations here and +there, so long as you are working for a high and noble goal?” +</p> + +<p> +“This fellow’s mad,” thought Stubbs; “but the +woman’s rather pretty, and he’s not bad fun himself, if you come to +that.” What he said was different. “I thought you said you were an +actor?” +</p> + +<p> +“I certainly did so,” replied Léon. “I am one, or, alas! I +was.” +</p> + +<p> +“And so you want me to be an actor, do you?” continued the +undergraduate. “Why, man, I could never so much as learn the stuff; my +memory’s like a sieve; and as for acting, I’ve no more idea than a +cat.” +</p> + +<p> +“The stage is not the only course,” said Léon. “Be a +sculptor, be a dancer, be a poet or a novelist; follow your heart, in short, +and do some thorough work before you die.” +</p> + +<p> +“And do you call all these things <i>art</i>?” inquired Stubbs. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, certainly!” returned Léon. “Are they not all +branches?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! I didn’t know,” replied the Englishman. “I thought +an artist meant a fellow who painted.” +</p> + +<p> +The singer stared at him in some surprise. +</p> + +<p> +“It is the difference of language,” he said at last. “This +Tower of Babel, when shall we have paid for it? If I could speak English you +would follow me more readily.” +</p> + +<p> +“Between you and me, I don’t believe I should,” replied the +other. “You seem to have thought a devil of a lot about this business. +For my part, I admire the stars, and like to have them shining—it’s +so cheery—but hang me if I had an idea it had anything to do with art! +It’s not in my line, you see. I’m not intellectual; I have no end +of trouble to scrape through my exams., I can tell you! But I’m not a bad +sort at bottom,” he added, seeing his interlocutor looked distressed even +in the dim starshine, “and I rather like the play, and music, and +guitars, and things.” +</p> + +<p> +Léon had a perception that the understanding was incomplete. He changed the +subject. +</p> + +<p> +“And so you travel on foot?” he continued. “How romantic! How +courageous! And how are you pleased with my land? How does the scenery affect +you among these wild hills of ours?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, the fact is,” began Stubbs—he was about to say that he +didn’t care for scenery, which was not at all true, being, on the +contrary, only an athletic undergraduate pretension; but he had begun to +suspect that Berthelini liked a different sort of meat, and substituted +something else—“The fact is, I think it jolly. They told me it was +no good up here; even the guide-book said so; but I don’t know what they +meant. I think it is deuced pretty—upon my word, I do.” +</p> + +<p> +At this moment, in the most unexpected manner, Elvira burst into tears. +</p> + +<p> +“My voice!” she cried. “Léon, if I stay here longer I shall +lose my voice!” +</p> + +<p> +“You shall not stay another moment,” cried the actor. “If I +have to beat in a door, if I have to burn the town, I shall find you +shelter.” +</p> + +<p> +With that he replaced the guitar, and comforting her with some caresses, drew +her arm through his. +</p> + +<p> +“Monsieur Stubbs,” said he, taking of his hat, “the reception +I offer you is rather problematical; but let me beseech you to give us the +pleasure of your society. You are a little embarrassed for the moment; you +must, indeed, permit me to advance what may be necessary. I ask it as a favour; +we must not part so soon after having met so strangely.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, come, you know,” said Stubbs, “I can’t let a +fellow like you—” And there he paused, feeling somehow or other on +a wrong tack. +</p> + +<p> +“I do not wish to employ menaces,” continued Léon, with a smile; +“but if you refuse, indeed I shall not take it kindly.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t quite see my way out of it,” thought the +undergraduate; and then, after a pause, he said, aloud and ungraciously enough, +“All right. I—I’m very much obliged, of course.” And he +proceeded to follow them, thinking in his heart, “But it’s bad +form, all the same, to force an obligation on a fellow.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3>CHAPTER V</h3> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">Léon</span> strode ahead as if he knew exactly where he was +going; the sobs of Madame were still faintly audible, and no one uttered a +word. A dog barked furiously in a courtyard as they went by; then the church +clock struck two, and many domestic clocks followed or preceded it in piping +tones. And just then Berthelini spied a light. It burned in a small house on +the outskirts of the town, and thither the party now directed their steps. +</p> + +<p> +“It is always a chance,” said Léon. +</p> + +<p> +The house in question stood back from the street behind an open space, part +garden, part turnip-field; and several outhouses stood forward from either wing +at right angles to the front. One of these had recently undergone some change. +An enormous window, looking towards the north, had been effected in the wall +and roof, and Léon began to hope it was a studio. +</p> + +<p> +“If it’s only a painter,” he said with a chuckle, “ten +to one we get as good a welcome as we want.” +</p> + +<p> +“I thought painters were principally poor,” said Stubbs. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah!” cried Léon, “you do not know the world as I do. The +poorer the better for us!” +</p> + +<p> +And the trio advanced into the turnip-field. +</p> + +<p> +The light was in the ground floor; as one window was brightly illuminated and +two others more faintly, it might be supposed that there was a single lamp in +one corner of a large apartment; and a certain tremulousness and temporary +dwindling showed that a live fire contributed to the effect. The sound of a +voice now became audible; and the trespassers paused to listen. It was pitched +in a high, angry key, but had still a good, full, and masculine note in it. The +utterance was voluble, too voluble even to be quite distinct; a stream of +words, rising and falling, with ever and again a phrase thrown out by itself, +as if the speaker reckoned on its virtue. +</p> + +<p> +Suddenly another voice joined in. This time it was a woman’s; and if the +man were angry, the woman was incensed to the degree of fury. There was that +absolutely blank composure known to suffering males; that colourless unnatural +speech which shows a spirit accurately balanced between homicide and hysterics; +the tone in which the best of women sometimes utter words worse than death to +those most dear to them. If Abstract Bones-and-Sepulchre were to be endowed +with the gift of speech, thus, and not otherwise, would it discourse. Léon was +a brave man, and I fear he was somewhat sceptically given (he had been educated +in a Papistical country), but the habit of childhood prevailed, and he crossed +himself devoutly. He had met several women in his career. It was obvious that +his instinct had not deceived him, for the male voice broke forth instantly in +a towering passion. +</p> + +<p> +The undergraduate, who had not understood the significance of the woman’s +contribution, pricked up his ears at the change upon the man. +</p> + +<p> +“There’s going to be a free fight,” he opined. +</p> + +<p> +There was another retort from the woman, still calm but a little higher. +</p> + +<p> +“Hysterics?” asked Léon of his wife. “Is that the stage +direction?” +</p> + +<p> +“How should I know?” returned Elvira, somewhat tartly. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, woman, woman!” said Léon, beginning to open the guitar-case. +“It is one of the burdens of my life, Monsieur Stubbs; they support each +other; they always pretend there is no system; they say it’s nature. Even +Madame Berthelini, who is a dramatic artist!” +</p> + +<p> +“You are heartless, Léon,” said Elvira; “that woman is in +trouble.” +</p> + +<p> +“And the man, my angel?” inquired Berthelini, passing the ribbon of +his guitar. “And the man, <i>m’amour</i>?” +</p> + +<p> +“He is a man,” she answered. +</p> + +<p> +“You hear that?” said Léon to Stubbs. “It is not too late for +you. Mark the intonation. And now,” he continued, “what are we to +give them?” +</p> + +<p> +“Are you going to sing?” asked Stubbs. +</p> + +<p> +“I am a troubadour,” replied Léon. “I claim a welcome by and +for my art. If I were a banker could I do as much?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, you wouldn’t need, you know,” answered the +undergraduate. +</p> + +<p> +“Egad,” said Léon, “but that’s true. Elvira, that is +true.” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course it is,” she replied. “Did you not know it?” +</p> + +<p> +“My dear,” answered Léon impressively, “I know nothing but +what is agreeable. Even my knowledge of life is a work of art superiorly +composed. But what are we to give them? It should be something +appropriate.” +</p> + +<p> +Visions of “Let dogs delight” passed through the +undergraduate’s mind; but it occurred to him that the poetry was English +and that he did not know the air. Hence he contributed no suggestion. +</p> + +<p> +“Something about our houselessness,” said Elvira. +</p> + +<p> +“I have it,” cried Léon. And he broke forth into a song of Pierre +Dupont’s:— +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +“Savez-vous où gite,<br/> +Mai, ce joli mois?” +</p> + +<p> +Elvira joined in; so did Stubbs, with a good ear and voice, but an imperfect +acquaintance with the music. Léon and the guitar were equal to the situation. +The actor dispensed his throat-notes with prodigality and enthusiasm; and, as +he looked up to heaven in his heroic way, tossing the black ringlets, it seemed +to him that the very stars contributed a dumb applause to his efforts, and the +universe lent him its silence for a chorus. That is one of the best features of +the heavenly bodies, that they belong to everybody in particular; and a man +like Léon, a chronic Endymion who managed to get along without encouragement, +is always the world’s centre for himself. +</p> + +<p> +He alone—and it is to be noted, he was the worst singer of the +three—took the music seriously to heart, and judged the serenade from a +high artistic point of view. Elvira, on the other hand, was preoccupied about +their reception; and, as for Stubbs, he considered the whole affair in the +light of a broad joke. +</p> + +<p> +“Know you the lair of May, the lovely month?” went the three voices +in the turnip-field. +</p> + +<p> +The inhabitants were plainly fluttered; the light moved to and fro, +strengthening in one window, paling in another; and then the door was thrown +open, and a man in a blouse appeared on the threshold carrying a lamp. He was a +powerful young fellow, with bewildered hair and beard, wearing his neck open; +his blouse was stained with oil-colours in a harlequinesque disorder; and there +was something rural in the droop and bagginess of his belted trousers. +</p> + +<p> +From immediately behind him, and indeed over his shoulder, a woman’s face +looked out into the darkness; it was pale and a little weary, although still +young; it wore a dwindling, disappearing prettiness, soon to be quite gone, and +the expression was both gentle and sour, and reminded one faintly of the taste +of certain drugs. For all that, it was not a face to dislike; when the +prettiness had vanished, it seemed as if a certain pale beauty might step in to +take its place; and as both the mildness and the asperity were characters of +youth, it might be hoped that, with years, both would merge into a constant, +brave, and not unkindly temper. +</p> + +<p> +“What is all this?” cried the man. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3>CHAPTER VI</h3> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">Léon</span> had his hat in his hand at once. He came +forward with his customary grace; it was a moment which would have earned him a +round of cheering on the stage. Elvira and Stubbs advanced behind him, like a +couple of Admetus’s sheep following the god Apollo. +</p> + +<p> +“Sir,” said Léon, “the hour is unpardonably late, and our +little serenade has the air of an impertinence. Believe me, sir, it is an +appeal. Monsieur is an artist, I perceive. We are here three artists benighted +and without shelter, one a woman—a delicate woman—in evening +dress—in an interesting situation. This will not fail to touch the +woman’s heart of Madame, whom I perceive indistinctly behind Monsieur her +husband, and whose face speaks eloquently of a well-regulated mind. Ah! +Monsieur, Madame—one generous movement, and you make three people happy! +Two or three hours beside your fire—I ask it of Monsieur in the name of +Art—I ask it of Madame by the sanctity of womanhood.” +</p> + +<p> +The two, as by a tacit consent, drew back from the door. +</p> + +<p> +“Come in,” said the man. +</p> + +<p> +“Entrez, Madame,” said the woman. +</p> + +<p> +The door opened directly upon the kitchen of the house, which was to all +appearance the only sitting-room. The furniture was both plain and scanty; but +there were one or two landscapes on the wall handsomely framed, as if they had +already visited the committee-rooms of an exhibition and been thence extruded. +Léon walked up to the pictures and represented the part of a connoisseur before +each in turn, with his usual dramatic insight and force. The master of the +house, as if irresistibly attracted, followed him from canvas to canvas with +the lamp. Elvira was led directly to the fire, where she proceeded to warm +herself, while Stubbs stood in the middle of the floor and followed the +proceedings of Léon with mild astonishment in his eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“You should see them by daylight,” said the artist. +</p> + +<p> +“I promise myself that pleasure,” said Léon. “You possess, +sir, if you will permit me an observation, the art of composition to a +T.” +</p> + +<p> +“You are very good,” returned the other. “But should you not +draw nearer to the fire?” +</p> + +<p> +“With all my heart,” said Léon. +</p> + +<p> +And the whole party was soon gathered at the table over a hasty and not an +elegant cold supper, washed down with the least of small wines. Nobody liked +the meal, but nobody complained; they put a good face upon it, one and all, and +made a great clattering of knives and forks. To see Léon eating a single cold +sausage was to see a triumph; by the time he had done he had got through as +much pantomime as would have sufficed for a baron of beef, and he had the +relaxed expression of the over-eaten. +</p> + +<p> +As Elvira had naturally taken a place by the side of Léon, and Stubbs as +naturally, although I believe unconsciously, by the side of Elvira, the host +and hostess were left together. Yet it was to be noted that they never +addressed a word to each other, nor so much as suffered their eyes to meet. The +interrupted skirmish still survived in ill-feeling; and the instant the guests +departed it would break forth again as bitterly as ever. The talk wandered from +this to that subject—for with one accord the party had declared it was +too late to go to bed; but those two never relaxed towards each other; Goneril +and Regan in a sisterly tiff were not more bent on enmity. +</p> + +<p> +It chanced that Elvira was so much tired by all the little excitements of the +night, that for once she laid aside her company manners, which were both easy +and correct, and in the most natural manner in the world leaned her head on +Léon’s shoulder. At the same time, fatigue suggesting tenderness, she +locked the fingers of her right hand into those of her husband’s left; +and, half closing her eyes, dozed off into a golden borderland between sleep +and waking. But all the time she was not aware of what was passing, and saw the +painter’s wife studying her with looks between contempt and envy. +</p> + +<p> +It occurred to Léon that his constitution demanded the use of some tobacco; and +he undid his fingers from Elvira’s in order to roll a cigarette. It was +gently done, and he took care that his indulgence should in no other way +disturb his wife’s position. But it seemed to catch the eye of the +painter’s wife with a special significancy. She looked straight before +her for an instant, and then, with a swift and stealthy movement, took hold of +her husband’s hand below the table. Alas! she might have spared herself +the dexterity. For the poor fellow was so overcome by this caress that he +stopped with his mouth open in the middle of a word, and by the expression of +his face plainly declared to all the company that his thoughts had been +diverted into softer channels. +</p> + +<p> +If it had not been rather amiable, it would have been absurdly droll. His wife +at once withdrew her touch; but it was plain she had to exert some force. +Thereupon the young man coloured and looked for a moment beautiful. +</p> + +<p> +Léon and Elvira both observed the byplay, and a shock passed from one to the +other; for they were inveterate match-makers, especially between those who were +already married. +</p> + +<p> +“I beg your pardon,” said Léon suddenly. “I see no use in +pretending. Before we came in here we heard sounds indicating—if I may so +express myself—an imperfect harmony.” +</p> + +<p> +“Sir—” began the man. +</p> + +<p> +But the woman was beforehand. +</p> + +<p> +“It is quite true,” she said. “I see no cause to be ashamed. +If my husband is mad I shall at least do my utmost to prevent the consequences. +Picture to yourself, Monsieur and Madame,” she went on, for she passed +Stubbs over, “that this wretched person—a dauber, an incompetent, +not fit to be a sign-painter—receives this morning an admirable offer +from an uncle—an uncle of my own, my mother’s brother, and tenderly +beloved—of a clerkship with nearly a hundred and fifty pounds a year, and +that he—picture to yourself!—he refuses it! Why? For the sake of +Art, he says. Look at his art, I say—look at it! Is it fit to be seen? +Ask him—is it fit to be sold? And it is for this, Monsieur and Madame, +that he condemns me to the most deplorable existence, without luxuries, without +comforts, in a vile suburb of a country town. O non!” she cried, +“non—je ne me tairai pas—c’est plus fort que moi! I +take these gentlemen and this lady for judges—is this kind? is it decent? +is it manly? Do I not deserve better at his hands after having married him +and”—(a visible hitch)—“done everything in the world to +please him.” +</p> + +<p> +I doubt if there were ever a more embarrassed company at a table; every one +looked like a fool; and the husband like the biggest. +</p> + +<p> +“The art of Monsieur, however,” said Elvira, breaking the silence, +“is not wanting in distinction.” +</p> + +<p> +“It has this distinction,” said the wife, “that nobody will +buy it.” +</p> + +<p> +“I should have supposed a clerkship—” began Stubbs. +</p> + +<p> +“Art is Art,” swept in Léon. “I salute Art. It is the +beautiful, the divine; it is the spirit of the world, and the pride of life. +But—” And the actor paused. +</p> + +<p> +“A clerkship—” began Stubbs. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll tell you what it is,” said the painter. “I am an +artist, and as this gentleman says, Art is this and the other; but of course, +if my wife is going to make my life a piece of perdition all day long, I prefer +to go and drown myself out of hand.” +</p> + +<p> +“Go!” said his wife. “I should like to see you!” +</p> + +<p> +“I was going to say,” resumed Stubbs, “that a fellow may be a +clerk and paint almost as much as he likes. I know a fellow in a bank who makes +capital water-colour sketches; he even sold one for seven-and-six.” +</p> + +<p> +To both the women this seemed a plank of safety; each hopefully interrogated +the countenance of her lord; even Elvira, an artist herself!—but indeed +there must be something permanently mercantile in the female nature. The two +men exchanged a glance; it was tragic; not otherwise might two philosophers +salute, as at the end of a laborious life each recognised that he was still a +mystery to his disciples. +</p> + +<p> +Léon arose. +</p> + +<p> +“Art is Art,” he repeated sadly. “It is not water-colour +sketches, nor practising on a piano. It is a life to be lived.” +</p> + +<p> +“And in the meantime people starve!” observed the woman of the +house. “If that’s a life, it is not one for me.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll tell you what,” burst forth Léon; “you, Madame, +go into another room and talk it over with my wife; and I’ll stay here +and talk it over with your husband. It may come to nothing, but let’s +try.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am very willing,” replied the young woman; and she proceeded to +light a candle. “This way if you please.” And she led Elvira +upstairs into a bedroom. “The fact is,” said she, sitting down, +“that my husband cannot paint.” +</p> + +<p> +“No more can mine act,” replied Elvira. +</p> + +<p> +“I should have thought he could,” returned the other; “he +seems clever.” +</p> + +<p> +“He is so, and the best of men besides,” said Elvira; “but he +cannot act.” +</p> + +<p> +“At least he is not a sheer humbug like mine; he can at least +sing.” +</p> + +<p> +“You mistake Léon,” returned his wife warmly. “He does not +even pretend to sing; he has too fine a taste; he does so for a living. And, +believe me, neither of the men are humbugs. They are people with a +mission—which they cannot carry out.” +</p> + +<p> +“Humbug or not,” replied the other, “you came very near +passing the night in the fields; and, for my part, I live in terror of +starvation. I should think it was a man’s mission to think twice about +his wife. But it appears not. Nothing is their mission but to play the fool. +Oh!” she broke out, “is it not something dreary to think of that +man of mine? If he could only do it, who would care? But no—not +he—no more than I can!” +</p> + +<p> +“Have you any children?” asked Elvira. +</p> + +<p> +“No; but then I may.” +</p> + +<p> +“Children change so much,” said Elvira, with a sigh. +</p> + +<p> +And just then from the room below there flew up a sudden snapping chord on the +guitar; one followed after another; then the voice of Léon joined in; and there +was an air being played and sung that stopped the speech of the two women. The +wife of the painter stood like a person transfixed; Elvira, looking into her +eyes, could see all manner of beautiful memories and kind thoughts that were +passing in and out of her soul with every note; it was a piece of her youth +that went before her; a green French plain, the smell of apple-flowers, the far +and shining ringlets of a river, and the words and presence of love. +</p> + +<p> +“Léon has hit the nail,” thought Elvira to herself. “I wonder +how.” +</p> + +<p> +The how was plain enough. Léon had asked the painter if there were no air +connected with courtship and pleasant times; and having learnt what he wished, +and allowed an interval to pass, he had soared forth into +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +“O mon amante,<br/> +O mon désir,<br/> +Sachons cueillir<br/> +L’heure charmante!” +</p> + +<p> +“Pardon me, Madame,” said the painter’s wife, “your +husband sings admirably well.” +</p> + +<p> +“He sings that with some feeling,” replied Elvira, critically, +although she was a little moved herself, for the song cut both ways in the +upper chamber; “but it is as an actor and not as a musician.” +</p> + +<p> +“Life is very sad,” said the other; “it so wastes away under +one’s fingers.” +</p> + +<p> +“I have not found it so,” replied Elvira. “I think the good +parts of it last and grow greater every day.” +</p> + +<p> +“Frankly, how would you advise me?” +</p> + +<p> +“Frankly, I would let my husband do what he wished. He is obviously a +very loving painter; you have not yet tried him as a clerk. And you +know—if it were only as the possible father of your children—it is +as well to keep him at his best.” +</p> + +<p> +“He is an excellent fellow,” said the wife. +</p> + +<div class="gapspace"> </div> + +<p> +They kept it up till sunrise with music and all manner of good fellowship; and +at sunrise, while the sky was still temperate and clear, they separated on the +threshold with a thousand excellent wishes for each other’s welfare. +Castel-le-Gâchis was beginning to send up its smoke against the golden East; +and the church bell was ringing six. +</p> + +<p> +“My guitar is a familiar spirit,” said Léon, as he and Elvira took +the nearest way towards the inn, “it resuscitated a Commissary, created +an English tourist, and reconciled a man and wife.” +</p> + +<p> +Stubbs, on his part, went off into the morning with reflections of his own. +</p> + +<p> +“They are all mad,” thought he, “all mad—but +wonderfully decent.” +</p> + +<div class="gapspace"> </div> + +<p class="center"> +<span class="GutSmall">THE END</span> +</p> + +<div class="gapspace"> </div> + +<p class="center"> +Printed by <span class="smcap">Spottiswoode</span>, <span +class="smcap">Ballantyne & Co. Ltd</span>.<br/> +Colchester, London & Eton, England +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NEW ARABIAN NIGHTS ***</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. 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FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.04.29.93*END* + + + + + +New Arabian Nights by Robert Louis Stevenson +Scanned and proofed by David Price +ccx074@coventry.ac.uk + + + + + +NEW ARABIAN NIGHTS + + + + +Contents: + +The Suicide Club +The Rajah's Diamond +The Pavilion on the Links +A Lodging for the Night - a Story of Francis Villon +The Sire de Maletroit's Door +Providence and the Guitar + + + + +THE SUICIDE CLUB + + + + +STORY OF THE YOUNG MAN WITH THE CREAM TARTS + + + +During his residence in London, the accomplished Prince Florizel of +Bohemia gained the affection of all classes by the seduction of his +manner and by a well-considered generosity. He was a remarkable +man even by what was known of him; and that was but a small part of +what he actually did. Although of a placid temper in ordinary +circumstances, and accustomed to take the world with as much +philosophy as any ploughman, the Prince of Bohemia was not without +a taste for ways of life more adventurous and eccentric than that +to which he was destined by his birth. Now and then, when he fell +into a low humour, when there was no laughable play to witness in +any of the London theatres, and when the season of the year was +unsuitable to those field sports in which he excelled all +competitors, he would summon his confidant and Master of the Horse, +Colonel Geraldine, and bid him prepare himself against an evening +ramble. The Master of the Horse was a young officer of a brave and +even temerarious disposition. He greeted the news with delight, +and hastened to make ready. Long practice and a varied +acquaintance of life had given him a singular facility in disguise; +he could adapt not only his face and bearing, but his voice and +almost his thoughts, to those of any rank, character, or nation; +and in this way he diverted attention from the Prince, and +sometimes gained admission for the pair into strange societies. +The civil authorities were never taken into the secret of these +adventures; the imperturbable courage of the one and the ready +invention and chivalrous devotion of the other had brought them +through a score of dangerous passes; and they grew in confidence as +time went on. + +One evening in March they were driven by a sharp fall of sleet into +an Oyster Bar in the immediate neighbourhood of Leicester Square. +Colonel Geraldine was dressed and painted to represent a person +connected with the Press in reduced circumstances; while the Prince +had, as usual, travestied his appearance by the addition of false +whiskers and a pair of large adhesive eyebrows. These lent him a +shaggy and weather-beaten air, which, for one of his urbanity, +formed the most impenetrable disguise. Thus equipped, the +commander and his satellite sipped their brandy and soda in +security. + +The bar was full of guests, male and female; but though more than +one of these offered to fall into talk with our adventurers, none +of them promised to grow interesting upon a nearer acquaintance. +There was nothing present but the lees of London and the +commonplace of disrespectability; and the Prince had already fallen +to yawning, and was beginning to grow weary of the whole excursion, +when the swing doors were pushed violently open, and a young man, +followed by a couple of commissionaires, entered the bar. Each of +the commissionaires carried a large dish of cream tarts under a +cover, which they at once removed; and the young man made the round +of the company, and pressed these confections upon every one's +acceptance with an exaggerated courtesy. Sometimes his offer was +laughingly accepted; sometimes it was firmly, or even harshly, +rejected. In these latter cases the new-comer always ate the tart +himself, with some more or less humorous commentary. + +At last he accosted Prince Florizel. + +"Sir," said he, with a profound obeisance, proffering the tart at +the same time between his thumb and forefinger, "will you so far +honour an entire stranger? I can answer for the quality of the +pastry, having eaten two dozen and three of them myself since five +o'clock." + +"I am in the habit," replied the Prince, "of looking not so much to +the nature of a gift as to the spirit in which it is offered." + +"The spirit, sir," returned the young man, with another bow, "is +one of mockery." + +"Mockery?" repeated Florizel. "And whom do you propose to mock?" + +"I am not here to expound my philosophy," replied the other, "but +to distribute these cream tarts. If I mention that I heartily +include myself in the ridicule of the transaction, I hope you will +consider honour satisfied and condescend. If not, you will +constrain me to eat my twenty-eighth, and I own to being weary of +the exercise." + +"You touch me," said the Prince, "and I have all the will in the +world to rescue you from this dilemma, but upon one condition. If +my friend and I eat your cakes - for which we have neither of us +any natural inclination - we shall expect you to join us at supper +by way of recompense." + +The young man seemed to reflect. + +"I have still several dozen upon hand," he said at last; "and that +will make it necessary for me to visit several more bars before my +great affair is concluded. This will take some time; and if you +are hungry - " + +The Prince interrupted him with a polite gesture. + +"My friend and I will accompany you," he said; "for we have already +a deep interest in your very agreeable mode of passing an evening. +And now that the preliminaries of peace are settled, allow me to +sign the treaty for both." + +And the Prince swallowed the tart with the best grace imaginable. + +"It is delicious," said he. + +"I perceive you are a connoisseur," replied the young man. + +Colonel Geraldine likewise did honour to the pastry; and every one +in that bar having now either accepted or refused his delicacies, +the young man with the cream tarts led the way to another and +similar establishment. The two commissionaires, who seemed to have +grown accustomed to their absurd employment, followed immediately +after; and the Prince and the Colonel brought up the rear, arm in +arm, and smiling to each other as they went. In this order the +company visited two other taverns, where scenes were enacted of a +like nature to that already described - some refusing, some +accepting, the favours of this vagabond hospitality, and the young +man himself eating each rejected tart. + +On leaving the third saloon the young man counted his store. There +were but nine remaining, three in one tray and six in the other. + +"Gentlemen," said he, addressing himself to his two new followers, +"I am unwilling to delay your supper. I am positively sure you +must be hungry. I feel that I owe you a special consideration. +And on this great day for me, when I am closing a career of folly +by my most conspicuously silly action, I wish to behave handsomely +to all who give me countenance. Gentlemen, you shall wait no +longer. Although my constitution is shattered by previous +excesses, at the risk of my life I liquidate the suspensory +condition." + +With these words he crushed the nine remaining tarts into his +mouth, and swallowed them at a single movement each. Then, turning +to the commissionaires, he gave them a couple of sovereigns. + +"I have to thank you," said be, "for your extraordinary patience." + +And he dismissed them with a bow apiece. For some seconds he stood +looking at the purse from which he had just paid his assistants, +then, with a laugh, he tossed it into the middle of the street, and +signified his readiness for supper. + +In a small French restaurant in Soho, which had enjoyed an +exaggerated reputation for some little while, but had already begun +to be forgotten, and in a private room up two pair of stairs, the +three companions made a very elegant supper, and drank three or +four bottles of champagne, talking the while upon indifferent +subjects. The young man was fluent and gay, but he laughed louder +than was natural in a person of polite breeding; his hands trembled +violently, and his voice took sudden and surprising inflections, +which seemed to be independent of his will. The dessert had been +cleared away, and all three had lighted their cigars, when the +Prince addressed him in these words:- + +"You will, I am sure, pardon my curiosity. What I have seen of you +has greatly pleased but even more puzzled me. And though I should +be loth to seem indiscreet, I must tell you that my friend and I +are persons very well worthy to be entrusted with a secret. We +have many of our own, which we are continually revealing to +improper ears. And if, as I suppose, your story is a silly one, +you need have no delicacy with us, who are two of the silliest men +in England. My name is Godall, Theophilus Godall; my friend is +Major Alfred Hammersmith - or at least, such is the name by which +he chooses to be known. We pass our lives entirely in the search +for extravagant adventures; and there is no extravagance with which +we are not capable of sympathy." + +"I like you, Mr. Godall," returned the young man; "you inspire me +with a natural confidence; and I have not the slightest objection +to your friend the Major, whom I take to be a nobleman in +masquerade. At least, I am sure he is no soldier." + +The Colonel smiled at this compliment to the perfection of his art; +and the young man went on in a more animated manner. + +"There is every reason why I should not tell you my story. Perhaps +that is just the reason why I am going to do so. At least, you +seem so well prepared to hear a tale of silliness that I cannot +find it in my heart to disappoint you. My name, in spite of your +example, I shall keep to myself. My age is not essential to the +narrative. I am descended from my ancestors by ordinary +generation, and from them I inherited the very eligible human +tenement which I still occupy and a fortune of three hundred pounds +a year. I suppose they also handed on to me a hare-brain humour, +which it has been my chief delight to indulge. I received a good +education. I can play the violin nearly well enough to earn money +in the orchestra of a penny gaff, but not quite. The same remark +applies to the flute and the French horn. I learned enough of +whist to lose about a hundred a year at that scientific game. My +acquaintance with French was sufficient to enable me to squander +money in Paris with almost the same facility as in London. In +short, I am a person full of manly accomplishments. I have had +every sort of adventure, including a duel about nothing. Only two +months ago I met a young lady exactly suited to my taste in mind +and body; I found my heart melt; I saw that I had come upon my fate +at last, and was in the way to fall in love. But when I came to +reckon up what remained to me of my capital, I found it amounted to +something less than four hundred pounds! I ask you fairly - can a +man who respects himself fall in love on four hundred pounds? I +concluded, certainly not; left the presence of my charmer, and +slightly accelerating my usual rate of expenditure, came this +morning to my last eighty pounds. This I divided into two equal +parts; forty I reserved for a particular purpose; the remaining +forty I was to dissipate before the night. I have passed a very +entertaining day, and played many farces besides that of the cream +tarts which procured me the advantage of your acquaintance; for I +was determined, as I told you, to bring a foolish career to a still +more foolish conclusion; and when you saw me throw my purse into +the street, the forty pounds were at an end. Now you know me as +well as I know myself: a fool, but consistent in his folly; and, +as I will ask you to believe, neither a whimperer nor a coward." + +From the whole tone of the young man's statement it was plain that +he harboured very bitter and contemptuous thoughts about himself. +His auditors were led to imagine that his love affair was nearer +his heart than he admitted, and that he had a design on his own +life. The farce of the cream tarts began to have very much the air +of a tragedy in disguise. + +"Why, is this not odd," broke out Geraldine, giving a look to +Prince Florizel, "that we three fellows should have met by the +merest accident in so large a wilderness as London, and should be +so nearly in the same condition?" + +"How?" cried the young man. "Are you, too, ruined? Is this supper +a folly like my cream tarts? Has the devil brought three of his +own together for a last carouse?" + +"The devil, depend upon it, can sometimes do a very gentlemanly +thing," returned Prince Florizel; "and I am so much touched by this +coincidence, that, although we are not entirely in the same case, I +am going to put an end to the disparity. Let your heroic treatment +of the last cream tarts be my example." + +So saying, the Prince drew out his purse and took from it a small +bundle of bank-notes. + +"You see, I was a week or so behind you, but I mean to catch you up +and come neck and neck into the winning-post," he continued. +"This," laying one of the notes upon the table, "will suffice for +the bill. As for the rest - " + +He tossed them into the fire, and they went up the chimney in a +single blaze. + +The young man tried to catch his arm, but as the table was between +them his interference came too late. + +"Unhappy man," he cried, "you should not have burned them all! You +should have kept forty pounds." + +"Forty pounds!" repeated the Prince. "Why, in heaven's name, forty +pounds?" + +"Why not eighty?" cried the Colonel; "for to my certain knowledge +there must have been a hundred in the bundle." + +"It was only forty pounds he needed," said the young man gloomily. +"But without them there is no admission. The rule is strict. +Forty pounds for each. Accursed life, where a man cannot even die +without money!" + +The Prince and the Colonel exchanged glances. "Explain yourself," +said the latter. "I have still a pocket-book tolerably well lined, +and I need not say how readily I should share my wealth with +Godall. But I must know to what end: you must certainly tell us +what you mean." + +The young man seemed to awaken; he looked uneasily from one to the +other, and his face flushed deeply. + +"You are not fooling me?" he asked. "You are indeed ruined men +like me?" + +"Indeed, I am for my part," replied the Colonel. + +"And for mine," said the Prince, "I have given you proof. Who but +a ruined man would throw his notes into the fire? The action +speaks for itself." + +"A ruined man - yes," returned the other suspiciously, "or else a +millionaire." + +"Enough, sir," said the Prince; "I have said so, and I am not +accustomed to have my word remain in doubt." + +"Ruined?" said the young man. "Are you ruined, like me? Are you, +after a life of indulgence, come to such a pass that you can only +indulge yourself in one thing more? Are you" - he kept lowering +his voice as he went on - "are you going to give yourselves that +last indulgence? Are you going to avoid the consequences of your +folly by the one infallible and easy path? Are you going to give +the slip to the sheriff's officers of conscience by the one open +door?" + +Suddenly he broke off and attempted to laugh. + +"Here is your health!" he cried, emptying his glass, "and good +night to you, my merry ruined men." + +Colonel Geraldine caught him by the arm as he was about to rise. + +"You lack confidence in us," he said, "and you are wrong. To all +your questions I make answer in the affirmative. But I am not so +timid, and can speak the Queen's English plainly. We too, like +yourself, have had enough of life, and are determined to die. +Sooner or later, alone or together, we meant to seek out death and +beard him where he lies ready. Since we have met you, and your +case is more pressing, let it be to-night - and at once - and, if +you will, all three together. Such a penniless trio," he cried, +"should go arm in arm into the halls of Pluto, and give each other +some countenance among the shades!" + +Geraldine had hit exactly on the manners and intonations that +became the part he was playing. The Prince himself was disturbed, +and looked over at his confidant with a shade of doubt. As for the +young man, the flush came back darkly into his cheek, and his eyes +threw out a spark of light. + +"You are the men for me!" he cried, with an almost terrible gaiety. +"Shake hands upon the bargain!" (his hand was cold and wet). "You +little know in what a company you will begin the march! You little +know in what a happy moment for yourselves you partook of my cream +tarts! I am only a unit, but I am a unit in an army. I know +Death's private door. I am one of his familiars, and can show you +into eternity without ceremony and yet without scandal." + +They called upon him eagerly to explain his meaning. + +"Can you muster eighty pounds between you?" he demanded. + +Geraldine ostentatiously consulted his pocket-book, and replied in +the affirmative. + +"Fortunate beings!" cried the young man. "Forty pounds is the +entry money of the Suicide Club." + +"The Suicide Club," said the Prince, "why, what the devil is that?" + +"Listen," said the young man; "this is the age of conveniences, and +I have to tell you of the last perfection of the sort. We have +affairs in different places; and hence railways were invented. +Railways separated us infallibly from our friends; and so +telegraphs were made that we might communicate speedier at great +distances. Even in hotels we have lifts to spare us a climb of +some hundred steps. Now, we know that life is only a stage to play +the fool upon as long as the part amuses us. There was one more +convenience lacking to modern comfort; a decent, easy way to quit +that stage; the back stairs to liberty; or, as I said this moment, +Death's private door. This, my two fellow-rebels, is supplied by +the Suicide Club. Do not suppose that you and I are alone, or even +exceptional in the highly reasonable desire that we profess. A +large number of our fellowmen, who have grown heartily sick of the +performance in which they are expected to join daily and all their +lives long, are only kept from flight by one or two considerations. +Some have families who would be shocked, or even blamed, if the +matter became public; others have a weakness at heart and recoil +from the circumstances of death. That is, to some extent, my own +experience. I cannot put a pistol to my head and draw the trigger; +for something stronger than myself withholds the act; and although +I loathe life, I have not strength enough in my body to take hold +of death and be done with it. For such as I, and for all who +desire to be out of the coil without posthumous scandal, the +Suicide Club has been inaugurated. How this has been managed, what +is its history, or what may be its ramifications in other lands, I +am myself uninformed; and what I know of its constitution, I am not +at liberty to communicate to you. To this extent, however, I am at +your service. If you are truly tired of life, I will introduce you +to-night to a meeting; and if not to-night, at least some time +within the week, you will be easily relieved of your existences. +It is now (consulting his watch) eleven; by half-past, at latest, +we must leave this place; so that you have half-an-hour before you +to consider my proposal. It is more serious than a cream tart," he +added, with a smile; "and I suspect more palatable." + +"More serious, certainly," returned Colonel Geraldine; "and as it +is so much more so, will you allow me five minutes' speech in +private with my friend, Mr. Godall?" + +"It is only fair," answered the young man. "If you will permit, I +will retire." + +"You will be very obliging," said the Colonel. + +As soon as the two were alone - "What," said Prince Florizel, "is +the use of this confabulation, Geraldine? I see you are flurried, +whereas my mind is very tranquilly made up. I will see the end of +this." + +"Your Highness," said the Colonel, turning pale; "let me ask you to +consider the importance of your life, not only to your friends, but +to the public interest. 'If not to-night,' said this madman; but +supposing that to-night some irreparable disaster were to overtake +your Highness's person, what, let me ask you, what would be my +despair, and what the concern and disaster of a great nation?" + +"I will see the end of this," repeated the Prince in his most +deliberate tones; "and have the kindness, Colonel Geraldine, to +remember and respect your word of honour as a gentleman. Under no +circumstances, recollect, nor without my special authority, are you +to betray the incognito under which I choose to go abroad. These +were my commands, which I now reiterate. And now," he added, "let +me ask you to call for the bill." + +Colonel Geraldine bowed in submission; but he had a very white face +as he summoned the young man of the cream tarts, and issued his +directions to the waiter. The Prince preserved his undisturbed +demeanour, and described a Palais Royal farce to the young suicide +with great humour and gusto. He avoided the Colonel's appealing +looks without ostentation, and selected another cheroot with more +than usual care. Indeed, he was now the only man of the party who +kept any command over his nerves. + +The bill was discharged, the Prince giving the whole change of the +note to the astonished waiter; and the three drove off in a four- +wheeler. They were not long upon the way before the cab stopped at +the entrance to a rather dark court. Here all descended. + +After Geraldine had paid the fare, the young man turned, and +addressed Prince Florizel as follows:- + +"It is still time, Mr. Godall, to make good your escape into +thraldom. And for you too, Major Hammersmith. Reflect well before +you take another step; and if your hearts say no - here are the +cross-roads." + +"Lead on, sir," said the Prince. "I am not the man to go back from +a thing once said." + +"Your coolness does me good," replied their guide. "I have never +seen any one so unmoved at this conjuncture; and yet you are not +the first whom I have escorted to this door. More than one of my +friends has preceded me, where I knew I must shortly follow. But +this is of no interest to you. Wait me here for only a few +moments; I shall return as soon as I have arranged the +preliminaries of your introduction." + +And with that the young man, waving his hand to his companions, +turned into the court, entered a doorway and disappeared. + +"Of all our follies," said Colonel Geraldine in a low voice, "this +is the wildest and most dangerous." + +"I perfectly believe so," returned the Prince. + +"We have still," pursued the Colonel, "a moment to ourselves. Let +me beseech your Highness to profit by the opportunity and retire. +The consequences of this step are so dark, and may be so grave, +that I feel myself justified in pushing a little farther than usual +the liberty which your Highness is so condescending as to allow me +in private." + +"Am I to understand that Colonel Geraldine is afraid?" asked his +Highness, taking his cheroot from his lips, and looking keenly into +the other's face. + +"My fear is certainly not personal," replied the other proudly; "of +that your Highness may rest well assured." + +"I had supposed as much," returned the Prince, with undisturbed +good humour; "but I was unwilling to remind you of the difference +in our stations. No more - no more," he added, seeing Geraldine +about to apologise, "you stand excused." + +And he smoked placidly, leaning against a railing, until the young +man returned. + +"Well," he asked, "has our reception been arranged?" + +"Follow me," was the reply. "The President will see you in the +cabinet. And let me warn you to be frank in your answers. I have +stood your guarantee; but the club requires a searching inquiry +before admission; for the indiscretion of a single member would +lead to the dispersion of the whole society for ever." + +The Prince and Geraldine put their heads together for a moment. +"Bear me out in this," said the one; and "bear me out in that," +said the other; and by boldly taking up the characters of men with +whom both were acquainted, they had come to an agreement in a +twinkling, and were ready to follow their guide into the +President's cabinet. + +There were no formidable obstacles to pass. The outer door stood +open; the door of the cabinet was ajar; and there, in a small but +very high apartment, the young man left them once more. + +"He will be here immediately," he said, with a nod, as he +disappeared. + +Voices were audible in the cabinet through the folding doors which +formed one end; and now and then the noise of a champagne cork, +followed by a burst of laughter, intervened among the sounds of +conversation. A single tall window looked out upon the river and +the embankment; and by the disposition of the lights they judged +themselves not far from Charing Cross station. The furniture was +scanty, and the coverings worn to the thread; and there was nothing +movable except a hand-bell in the centre of a round table, and the +hats and coats of a considerable party hung round the wall on pegs. + +"What sort of a den is this?" said Geraldine. + +"That is what I have come to see," replied the Prince. "If they +keep live devils on the premises, the thing may grow amusing." + +Just then the folding door was opened no more than was necessary +for the passage of a human body; and there entered at the same +moment a louder buzz of talk, and the redoubtable President of the +Suicide Club. The President was a man of fifty or upwards; large +and rambling in his gait, with shaggy side whiskers, a bald top to +his head, and a veiled grey eye, which now and then emitted a +twinkle. His mouth, which embraced a large cigar, he kept +continually screwing round and round and from side to side, as he +looked sagaciously and coldly at the strangers. He was dressed in +light tweeds, with his neck very open in a striped shirt collar; +and carried a minute book under one arm. + +"Good evening," said he, after he had closed the door behind him. +"I am told you wish to speak with me." + +"We have a desire, sir, to join the Suicide Club," replied the +Colonel. + +The President rolled his cigar about in his mouth. "What is that?" +he said abruptly. + +"Pardon me," returned the Colonel, "but I believe you are the +person best qualified to give us information on that point." + +"I?" cried the President. "A Suicide Club? Come, come! this is a +frolic for All Fools' Day. I can make allowances for gentlemen who +get merry in their liquor; but let there be an end to this." + +"Call your Club what you will," said the Colonel, "you have some +company behind these doors, and we insist on joining it." + +"Sir," returned the President curtly, "you have made a mistake. +This is a private house, and you must leave it instantly." + +The Prince had remained quietly in his seat throughout this little +colloquy; but now, when the Colonel looked over to him, as much as +to say, "Take your answer and come away, for God's sake!" he drew +his cheroot from his mouth, and spoke - + +"I have come here," said he, "upon the invitation of a friend of +yours. He has doubtless informed you of my intention in thus +intruding on your party. Let me remind you that a person in my +circumstances has exceedingly little to bind him, and is not at all +likely to tolerate much rudeness. I am a very quiet man, as a +usual thing; but, my dear sir, you are either going to oblige me in +the little matter of which you are aware, or you shall very +bitterly repent that you ever admitted me to your ante-chamber." + +The President laughed aloud. + +"That is the way to speak," said he. "You are a man who is a man. +You know the way to my heart, and can do what you like with me. +Will you," he continued, addressing Geraldine, "will you step aside +for a few minutes? I shall finish first with your companion, and +some of the club's formalities require to be fulfilled in private." + +With these words he opened the door of a small closet, into which +he shut the Colonel. + +"I believe in you," he said to Florizel, as soon as they were +alone; "but are you sure of your friend?" + +"Not so sure as I am of myself, though he has more cogent reasons," +answered Florizel, "but sure enough to bring him here without +alarm. He has had enough to cure the most tenacious man of life. +He was cashiered the other day for cheating at cards." + +"A good reason, I daresay," replied the President; "at least, we +have another in the same case, and I feel sure of him. Have you +also been in the Service, may I ask?" + +"I have," was the reply; "but I was too lazy, I left it early." + +"What is your reason for being tired of life?" pursued the +President. + +"The same, as near as I can make out," answered the Prince; +"unadulterated laziness." + +The President started. "D-n it," said he, "you must have something +better than that." + +"I have no more money," added Florizel. "That is also a vexation, +without doubt. It brings my sense of idleness to an acute point." + +The President rolled his cigar round in his mouth for some seconds, +directing his gaze straight into the eyes of this unusual neophyte; +but the Prince supported his scrutiny with unabashed good temper. + +"If I had not a deal of experience," said the President at last, "I +should turn you off. But I know the world; and this much any way, +that the most frivolous excuses for a suicide are often the +toughest to stand by. And when I downright like a man, as I do +you, sir, I would rather strain the regulation than deny him." + +The Prince and the Colonel, one after the other, were subjected to +a long and particular interrogatory: the Prince alone; but +Geraldine in the presence of the Prince, so that the President +might observe the countenance of the one while the other was being +warmly cross-examined. The result was satisfactory; and the +President, after having booked a few details of each case, produced +a form of oath to be accepted. Nothing could be conceived more +passive than the obedience promised, or more stringent than the +terms by which the juror bound himself. The man who forfeited a +pledge so awful could scarcely have a rag of honour or any of the +consolations of religion left to him. Florizel signed the +document, but not without a shudder; the Colonel followed his +example with an air of great depression. Then the President +received the entry money; and without more ado, introduced the two +friends into the smoking-room of the Suicide Club. + +The smoking-room of the Suicide Club was the same height as the +cabinet into which it opened, but much larger, and papered from top +to bottom with an imitation of oak wainscot. A large and cheerful +fire and a number of gas-jets illuminated the company. The Prince +and his follower made the number up to eighteen. Most of the party +were smoking, and drinking champagne; a feverish hilarity reigned, +with sudden and rather ghastly pauses. + +"Is this a full meeting?" asked the Prince. + +"Middling," said the President. "By the way," he added, "if you +have any money, it is usual to offer some champagne. It keeps up a +good spirit, and is one of my own little perquisites." + +"Hammersmith," said Florizel, "I may leave the champagne to you." + +And with that he turned away and began to go round among the +guests. Accustomed to play the host in the highest circles, he +charmed and dominated all whom he approached; there was something +at once winning and authoritative in his address; and his +extraordinary coolness gave him yet another distinction in this +half maniacal society. As he went from one to another he kept both +his eyes and ears open, and soon began to gain a general idea of +the people among whom he found himself. As in all other places of +resort, one type predominated: people in the prime of youth, with +every show of intelligence and sensibility in their appearance, but +with little promise of strength or the quality that makes success. +Few were much above thirty, and not a few were still in their +teens. They stood, leaning on tables and shifting on their feet; +sometimes they smoked extraordinarily fast, and sometimes they let +their cigars go out; some talked well, but the conversation of +others was plainly the result of nervous tension, and was equally +without wit or purport. As each new bottle of champagne was +opened, there was a manifest improvement in gaiety. Only two were +seated - one in a chair in the recess of the window, with his head +hanging and his hands plunged deep into his trouser pockets, pale, +visibly moist with perspiration, saying never a word, a very wreck +of soul and body; the other sat on the divan close by the chimney, +and attracted notice by a trenchant dissimilarity from all the +rest. He was probably upwards of forty, but he looked fully ten +years older; and Florizel thought he had never seen a man more +naturally hideous, nor one more ravaged by disease and ruinous +excitements. He was no more than skin and bone, was partly +paralysed, and wore spectacles of such unusual power, that his eyes +appeared through the glasses greatly magnified and distorted in +shape. Except the Prince and the President, he was the only person +in the room who preserved the composure of ordinary life. + +There was little decency among the members of the club. Some +boasted of the disgraceful actions, the consequences of which had +reduced them to seek refuge in death; and the others listened +without disapproval. There was a tacit understanding against moral +judgments; and whoever passed the club doors enjoyed already some +of the immunities of the tomb. They drank to each other's +memories, and to those of notable suicides in the past. They +compared and developed their different views of death - some +declaring that it was no more than blackness and cessation; others +full of a hope that that very night they should be scaling the +stars and commencing with the mighty dead. + +"To the eternal memory of Baron Trenck, the type of suicides!" +cried one. "He went out of a small cell into a smaller, that he +might come forth again to freedom." + +"For my part," said a second, "I wish no more than a bandage for my +eyes and cotton for my ears. Only they have no cotton thick enough +in this world." + +A third was for reading the mysteries of life in a future state; +and a fourth professed that he would never have joined the club, if +he had not been induced to believe in Mr. Darwin. + +"I could not bear," said this remarkable suicide, "to be descended +from an ape." + +Altogether, the Prince was disappointed by the bearing and +conversation of the members. + +"It does not seem to me," he thought, "a matter for so much +disturbance. If a man has made up his mind to kill himself, let +him do it, in God's name, like a gentleman. This flutter and big +talk is out of place." + +In the meanwhile Colonel Geraldine was a prey to the blackest +apprehensions; the club and its rules were still a mystery, and he +looked round the room for some one who should be able to set his +mind at rest. In this survey his eye lighted on the paralytic +person with the strong spectacles; and seeing him so exceedingly +tranquil, he besought the President, who was going in and out of +the room under a pressure of business, to present him to the +gentleman on the divan. + +The functionary explained the needlessness of all such formalities +within the club, but nevertheless presented Mr. Hammersmith to Mr. +Malthus. + +Mr. Malthus looked at the Colonel curiously, and then requested him +to take a seat upon his right. + +"You are a new-comer," he said, "and wish information? You have +come to the proper source. It is two years since I first visited +this charming club." + +The Colonel breathed again. If Mr. Malthus had frequented the +place for two years there could be little danger for the Prince in +a single evening. But Geraldine was none the less astonished, and +began to suspect a mystification. + +"What!" cried he, "two years! I thought - but indeed I see I have +been made the subject of a pleasantry." + +"By no means," replied Mr. Malthus mildly. "My case is peculiar. +I am not, properly speaking, a suicide at all; but, as it were, an +honorary member. I rarely visit the club twice in two months. My +infirmity and the kindness of the President have procured me these +little immunities, for which besides I pay at an advanced rate. +Even as it is my luck has been extraordinary." + +"I am afraid," said the Colonel, "that I must ask you to be more +explicit. You must remember that I am still most imperfectly +acquainted with the rules of the club." + +"An ordinary member who comes here in search of death like +yourself," replied the paralytic, "returns every evening until +fortune favours him. He can even, if he is penniless, get board +and lodging from the President: very fair, I believe, and clean, +although, of course, not luxurious; that could hardly be, +considering the exiguity (if I may so express myself) of the +subscription. And then the President's company is a delicacy in +itself." + +"Indeed!" cried Geraldine, "he had not greatly prepossessed me." + +"Ah!" said Mr. Malthus, "you do not know the man: the drollest +fellow! What stories! What cynicism! He knows life to admiration +and, between ourselves, is probably the most corrupt rogue in +Christendom." + +"And he also," asked the Colonel, "is a permanency - like yourself, +if I may say so without offence?" + +"Indeed, he is a permanency in a very different sense from me," +replied Mr. Malthus. "I have hem graciously spared, but I must go +at last. Now he never plays. He shuffles and deals for the club, +and makes the necessary arrangements. That man, my dear Mr. +Hammersmith, is the very soul of ingenuity. For three years he has +pursued in London his useful and, I think I may add, his artistic +calling; and not so much as a whisper of suspicion has been once +aroused. I believe him myself to be inspired. You doubtless +remember the celebrated case, six months ago, of the gentleman who +was accidentally poisoned in a chemists shop? That was one of the +least rich, one of the least racy, of his notions; but then, how +simple! and how safe!" + +"You astound me," said the Colonel. "Was that unfortunate +gentleman one of the - " He was about to say "victims"; but +bethinking himself in time, he substituted - "members of the club?" + +In the same flash of thought, it occurred to him that Mr. Malthus +himself had not at all spoken in the tone of one who is in love +with death; and he added hurriedly: + +"But I perceive I am still in the dark. You speak of shuffling and +dealing; pray for what end? And since you seem rather unwilling to +die than otherwise, I must own that I cannot conceive what brings +you here at all." + +"You say truly that you are in the dark," replied Mr. Malthus with +more animation. "Why, my dear sir, this club is the temple of +intoxication. If my enfeebled health could support the excitement +more often, you may depend upon it I should be more often here. It +requires all the sense of duty engendered by a long habit of ill- +health and careful regimen, to keep me from excess in this, which +is, I may say, my last dissipation. I have tried them all, sir," +he went on, laying his hand on Geraldine's arm, "all without +exception, and I declare to you, upon my honour, there is not one +of them that has not been grossly and untruthfully overrated. +People trifle with love. Now, I deny that love is a strong +passion. Fear is the strong passion; it is with fear that you must +trifle, if you wish to taste the intensest joys of living. Envy me +- envy me, sir," he added with a chuckle, "I am a coward!" + +Geraldine could scarcely repress a movement of repulsion for this +deplorable wretch; but he commanded himself with an effort, and +continued his inquiries. + +"How, sir," he asked, "is the excitement so artfully prolonged? and +where is there any element of uncertainty?" + +"I must tell you how the victim for every evening is selected," +returned Mr. Malthus; "and not only the victim, but another member, +who is to be the instrument in the club's hands, and death's high +priest for that occasion." + +"Good God!" said the Colonel, "do they then kill each other?" + +"The trouble of suicide is removed in that way," returned Malthus +with a nod. + +"Merciful heavens!" ejaculated the Colonel, "and may you - may I - +may the - my friend I mean - may any of us be pitched upon this +evening as the slayer of another man's body and immortal spirit? +Can such things be possible among men born of women? Oh! infamy of +infamies!" + +He was about to rise in his horror, when he caught the Prince's +eye. It was fixed upon him from across the room with a frowning +and angry stare. And in a moment Geraldine recovered his +composure. + +"After all," he added, "why not? And since you say the game is +interesting, VOGUE LA GALERE - I follow the club!" + +Mr. Malthus had keenly enjoyed the Colonel's amazement and disgust. +He had the vanity of wickedness; and it pleased him to see another +man give way to a generous movement, while he felt himself, in his +entire corruption, superior to such emotions. + +"You now, after your first moment of surprise," said he, "are in a +position to appreciate the delights of our society. You can see +how it combines the excitement of a gaming-table, a duel, and a +Roman amphitheatre. The Pagans did well enough; I cordially admire +the refinement of their minds; but it has been reserved for a +Christian country to attain this extreme, this quintessence, this +absolute of poignancy. You will understand how vapid are all +amusements to a man who has acquired a taste for this one. The +game we play," he continued, "is one of extreme simplicity. A full +pack - but I perceive you are about to see the thing in progress. +Will you lend me the help of your arm? I am unfortunately +paralysed." + +Indeed, just as Mr. Malthus was beginning his description, another +pair of folding-doors was thrown open, and the whole club began to +pass, not without some hurry, into the adjoining room. It was +similar in every respect to the one from which it was entered, but +somewhat differently furnished. The centre was occupied by a long +green table, at which the President sat shuffling a pack of cards +with great particularity. Even with the stick and the Colonel's +arm, Mr. Malthus walked with so much difficulty that every one was +seated before this pair and the Prince, who had waited for them, +entered the apartment; and, in consequence, the three took seats +close together at the lower end of the board. + +"It is a pack of fifty-two," whispered Mr. Malthus. "Watch for the +ace of spades, which is the sign of death, and the ace of clubs, +which designates the official of the night. Happy, happy young +men!" he added. "You have good eyes, and can follow the game. +Alas! I cannot tell an ace from a deuce across the table." + +And he proceeded to equip himself with a second pair of spectacles. + +"I must at least watch the faces," he explained. + +The Colonel rapidly informed his friend of all that he had learned +from the honorary member, and of the horrible alternative that lay +before them. The Prince was conscious of a deadly chill and a +contraction about his heart; he swallowed with difficulty, and +looked from side to side like a man in a maze. + +"One bold stroke," whispered the Colonel, "and we may still +escape." + +But the suggestion recalled the Prince's spirits. + +"Silence!" said be. "Let me see that you can play like a gentleman +for any stake, however serious." + +And he looked about him, once more to all appearance at his ease, +although his heart beat thickly, and he was conscious of an +unpleasant heat in his bosom. The members were all very quiet and +intent; every one was pale, but none so pale as Mr. Malthus. His +eyes protruded; his head kept nodding involuntarily upon his spine; +his hands found their way, one after the other, to his mouth, where +they made clutches at his tremulous and ashen lips. It was plain +that the honorary member enjoyed his membership on very startling +terms. + +"Attention, gentlemen!" said the President. + +And he began slowly dealing the cards about the table in the +reverse direction, pausing until each man had shown his card. +Nearly every one hesitated; and sometimes you would see a player's +fingers stumble more than once before he could turn over the +momentous slip of pasteboard. As the Prince's turn drew nearer, he +was conscious of a growing and almost suffocating excitement; but +he had somewhat of the gambler's nature, and recognised almost with +astonishment, that there was a degree of pleasure in his +sensations. The nine of clubs fell to his lot; the three of spades +was dealt to Geraldine; and the queen of hearts to Mr. Malthus, who +was unable to suppress a sob of relief. The young man of the cream +tarts almost immediately afterwards turned over the ace of clubs, +and remained frozen with horror, the card still resting on his +finger; he had not come there to kill, but to be killed; and the +Prince in his generous sympathy with his position almost forgot the +peril that still hung over himself and his friend. + +The deal was coming round again, and still Death's card had not +come out. The players held their respiration, and only breathed by +gasps. The Prince received another club; Geraldine had a diamond; +but when Mr. Malthus turned up his card a horrible noise, like that +of something breaking, issued from his mouth; and he rose from his +seat and sat down again, with no sign of his paralysis. It was the +ace of spades. The honorary member had trifled once too often with +his terrors. + +Conversation broke out again almost at once. The players relaxed +their rigid attitudes, and began to rise from the table and stroll +back by twos and threes into the smoking-room. The President +stretched his arms and yawned, like a man who has finished his +day's work. But Mr. Malthus sat in his place, with his head in his +hands, and his hands upon the table, drunk and motionless - a thing +stricken down. + +The Prince and Geraldine made their escape at once. In the cold +night air their horror of what they had witnessed was redoubled. + +"Alas!" cried the Prince, "to be bound by an oath in such a matter! +to allow this wholesale trade in murder to be continued with profit +and impunity! If I but dared to forfeit my pledge!" + +"That is impossible for your Highness," replied the Colonel, "whose +honour is the honour of Bohemia. But I dare, and may with +propriety, forfeit mine." + +"Geraldine," said the Prince, "if your honour suffers in any of the +adventures into which you follow me, not only will I never pardon +you, but - what I believe will much more sensibly affect you - I +should never forgive myself." + +"I receive your Highness's commands," replied the Colonel. "Shall +we go from this accursed spot?" + +"Yes," said the Prince. "Call a cab in Heaven's name, and let me +try to forget in slumber the memory of this night's disgrace." + +But it was notable that he carefully read the name of the court +before he left it. + +The next morning, as soon as the Prince was stirring, Colonel +Geraldine brought him a daily newspaper, with the following +paragraph marked:- + +"MELANCHOLY ACCIDENT. - This morning, about two o'clock, Mr. +Bartholomew Malthus, of 16 Chepstow Place, Westbourne Grove, on his +way home from a party at a friend's house, fell over the upper +parapet in Trafalgar Square, fracturing his skull and breaking a +leg and an arm. Death was instantaneous. Mr. Malthus, accompanied +by a friend, was engaged in looking for a cab at the time of the +unfortunate occurrence. As Mr. Malthus was paralytic, it is +thought that his fall may have been occasioned by another seizure. +The unhappy gentleman was well known in the most respectable +circles, and his loss will be widely and deeply deplored." + +"If ever a soul went straight to Hell," said Geraldine solemnly, +"it was that paralytic man's." + +The Prince buried his face in his hands, and remained silent. + +"I am almost rejoiced," continued the Colonel, "to know that he is +dead. But for our young man of the cream tarts I confess my heart +bleeds." + +"Geraldine," said the Prince, raising his face, "that unhappy lad +was last night as innocent as you and I; and this morning the guilt +of blood is on his soul. When I think of the President, my heart +grows sick within me. I do not know how it shall be done, but I +shall have that scoundrel at my mercy as there is a God in heaven. +What an experience, what a lesson, was that game of cards!" + +"One," said the Colonel, "never to be repeated." + +The Prince remained so long without replying, that Geraldine grew +alarmed. + +"You cannot mean to return," he said. "You have suffered too much +and seen too much horror already. The duties of your high position +forbid the repetition of the hazard." + +"There is much in what you say," replied Prince Florizel, "and I am +not altogether pleased with my own determination. Alas! in the +clothes of the greatest potentate, what is there but a man? I +never felt my weakness more acutely than now, Geraldine, but it is +stronger than I. Can I cease to interest myself in the fortunes of +the unhappy young man who supped with us some hours ago? Can I +leave the President to follow his nefarious career unwatched? Can +I begin an adventure so entrancing, and not follow it to an end? +No, Geraldine: you ask of the Prince more than the man is able to +perform. To-night, once more, we take our places at the table of +the Suicide Club." + +Colonel Geraldine fell upon his knees. + +"Will your Highness take my life?" he cried. "It is his - his +freely; but do not, O do not! let him ask me to countenance so +terrible a risk." + +"Colonel Geraldine," replied the Prince, with some haughtiness of +manner, "your life is absolutely your own. I only looked for +obedience; and when that is unwillingly rendered, I shall look for +that no longer. I add one word your: importunity in this affair +has been sufficient." + +The Master of the Horse regained his feet at once. + +"Your Highness," he said, "may I be excused in my attendance this +afternoon? I dare not, as an honourable man, venture a second time +into that fatal house until I have perfectly ordered my affairs. +Your Highness shall meet, I promise him, with no more opposition +from the most devoted and grateful of his servants." + +"My dear Geraldine," returned Prince Florizel, "I always regret +when you oblige me to remember my rank. Dispose of your day as you +think fit, but be here before eleven in the same disguise." + +The club, on this second evening, was not so fully attended; and +when Geraldine and the Prince arrived, there were not above half-a- +dozen persons in the smoking-room. His Highness took the President +aside and congratulated him warmly on the demise of Mr. Malthus. + +"I like," he said, "to meet with capacity, and certainly find much +of it in you. Your profession is of a very delicate nature, but I +see you are well qualified to conduct it with success and secrecy." + +The President was somewhat affected by these compliments from one +of his Highness's superior bearing. He acknowledged them almost +with humility. + +"Poor Malthy!" he added, "I shall hardly know the club without him. +The most of my patrons are boys, sir, and poetical boys, who are +not much company for me. Not but what Malthy had some poetry, too; +but it was of a kind that I could understand." + +"I can readily imagine you should find yourself in sympathy with +Mr. Malthus," returned the Prince. "He struck me as a man of a +very original disposition." + +The young man of the cream tarts was in the room, but painfully +depressed and silent. His late companions sought in vain to lead +him into conversation. + +"How bitterly I wish," he cried, "that I had never brought you to +this infamous abode! Begone, while you are clean-handed. If you +could have heard the old man scream as he fell, and the noise of +his bones upon the pavement! Wish me, if you have any kindness to +so fallen a being - wish the ace of spades for me to-night!" + +A few more members dropped in as the evening went on, but the club +did not muster more than the devil's dozen when they took their +places at the table. The Prince was again conscious of a certain +joy in his alarms; but he was astonished to see Geraldine so much +more self-possessed than on the night before. + +"It is extraordinary," thought the Prince, "that a will, made or +unmade, should so greatly influence a young man's spirit." + +"Attention, gentlemen!" said the President, and he began to deal. + +Three times the cards went all round the table, and neither of the +marked cards had yet fallen from his hand. The excitement as he +began the fourth distribution was overwhelming. There were just +cards enough to go once more entirely round. The Prince, who sat +second from the dealer's left, would receive, in the reverse mode +of dealing practised at the club, the second last card. The third +player turned up a black ace - it was the ace of clubs. The next +received a diamond, the next a heart, and so on; but the ace of +spades was still undelivered. At last, Geraldine, who sat upon the +Prince's left, turned his card; it was an ace, but the ace of +hearts. + +When Prince Florizel saw his fate upon the table in front of him, +his heart stood still. He was a brave man, but the sweat poured +off his face. There were exactly fifty chances out of a hundred +that he was doomed. He reversed the card; it was the ace of +spades. A loud roaring filled his brain, and the table swam before +his eyes. He heard the player on his right break into a fit of +laughter that sounded between mirth and disappointment; he saw the +company rapidly dispersing, but his mind was full of other +thoughts. He recognised how foolish, how criminal, had been his +conduct. In perfect health, in the prime of his years, the heir to +a throne, he had gambled away his future and that of a brave and +loyal country. "God," he cried, "God forgive me!" And with that, +the confusion of his senses passed away, and he regained his self- +possession in a moment. + +To his surprise Geraldine had disappeared. There was no one in the +card-room but his destined butcher consulting with the President, +and the young man of the cream tarts, who slipped up to the Prince, +and whispered in his ear:- + +"I would give a million, if I had it, for your luck." + +His Highness could not help reflecting, as the young man departed, +that he would have sold his opportunity for a much more moderate +sum. + +The whispered conference now came to an end. The holder of the ace +of clubs left the room with a look of intelligence, and the +President, approaching the unfortunate Prince, proffered him his +hand. + +"I am pleased to have met you, sir," said he, "and pleased to have +been in a position to do you this trifling service. At least, you +cannot complain of delay. On the second evening - what a stroke of +luck!" + +The Prince endeavoured in vain to articulate something in response, +but his mouth was dry and his tongue seemed paralysed. + +"You feel a little sickish?" asked the President, with some show of +solicitude. "Most gentlemen do. Will you take a little brandy?" + +The Prince signified in the affirmative, and the other immediately +filled some of the spirit into a tumbler. + +"Poor old Malthy!" ejaculated the President, as the Prince drained +the glass. "He drank near upon a pint, and little enough good it +seemed to do him!" + +"I am more amenable to treatment," said the Prince, a good deal +revived. "I am my own man again at once, as you perceive. And so, +let me ask you, what are my directions?" + +"You will proceed along the Strand in the direction of the City, +and on the left-hand pavement, until you meet the gentleman who has +just left the room. He will continue your instructions, and him +you will have the kindness to obey; the authority of the club is +vested in his person for the night. And now," added the President, +"I wish you a pleasant walk." + +Florizel acknowledged the salutation rather awkwardly, and took his +leave. He passed through the smoking-room, where the bulk of the +players were still consuming champagne, some of which he had +himself ordered and paid for; and he was surprised to find himself +cursing them in his heart. He put on his hat and greatcoat in the +cabinet, and selected his umbrella from a corner. The familiarity +of these acts, and the thought that he was about them for the last +time, betrayed him into a fit of laughter which sounded +unpleasantly in his own ears. He conceived a reluctance to leave +the cabinet, and turned instead to the window. The sight of the +lamps and the darkness recalled him to himself. + +"Come, come, I must be a man," he thought, "and tear myself away." + +At the corner of Box Court three men fell upon Prince Florizel and +he was unceremoniously thrust into a carriage, which at once drove +rapidly away. There was already an occupant. + +"Will your Highness pardon my zeal?" said a well known voice. + +The Prince threw himself upon the Colonel's neck in a passion of +relief. + +"How can I ever thank you?" he cried. "And how was this effected?" + +Although he had been willing to march upon his doom, he was +overjoyed to yield to friendly violence, and return once more to +life and hope. + +"You can thank me effectually enough," replied the Colonel, "by +avoiding all such dangers in the future. And as for your second +question, all has been managed by the simplest means. I arranged +this afternoon with a celebrated detective. Secrecy has been +promised and paid for. Your own servants have been principally +engaged in the affair. The house in Box Court has been surrounded +since nightfall, and this, which is one of your own carriages, has +been awaiting you for nearly an hour." + +"And the miserable creature who was to have slain me - what of +him?" inquired the Prince. + +"He was pinioned as he left the club," replied the Colonel, "and +now awaits your sentence at the Palace, where he will soon be +joined by his accomplices." + +"Geraldine," said the Prince, "you have saved me against my +explicit orders, and you have done well. I owe you not only my +life, but a lesson; and I should be unworthy of my rank if I did +not show myself grateful to my teacher. Let it be yours to choose +the manner." + +There was a pause, during which the carriage continued to speed +through the streets, and the two men were each buried in his own +reflections. The silence was broken by Colonel Geraldine. + +"Your Highness," said he, "has by this time a considerable body of +prisoners. There is at least one criminal among the number to whom +justice should be dealt. Our oath forbids us all recourse to law; +and discretion would forbid it equally if the oath were loosened. +May I inquire your Highness's intention?" + +"It is decided," answered Florizel; "the President must fall in +duel. It only remains to choose his adversary." + +"Your Highness has permitted me to name my own recompense," said +the Colonel. "Will he permit me to ask the appointment of my +brother? It is an honourable post, but I dare assure your Highness +that the lad will acquit himself with credit." + +"You ask me an ungracious favour," said the Prince, "but I must +refuse you nothing." + +The Colonel kissed his hand with the greatest affection; and at +that moment the carriage rolled under the archway of the Prince's +splendid residence. + +An hour after, Florizel in his official robes, and covered with all +the orders of Bohemia, received the members of the Suicide Club. + +"Foolish and wicked men," said he, "as many of you as have been +driven into this strait by the lack of fortune shall receive +employment and remuneration from my officers. Those who suffer +under a sense of guilt must have recourse to a higher and more +generous Potentate than I. I feel pity for all of you, deeper than +you can imagine; to-morrow you shall tell me your stories; and as +you answer more frankly, I shall be the more able to remedy your +misfortunes. As for you," he added, turning to the President, "I +should only offend a person of your parts by any offer of +assistance; but I have instead a piece of diversion to propose to +you. Here," laying his hand on the shoulder of Colonel Geraldine's +young brother, "is an officer of mine who desires to make a little +tour upon the Continent; and I ask you, as a favour, to accompany +him on this excursion. Do you," he went on, changing his tone, "do +you shoot well with the pistol? Because you may have need of that +accomplishment. When two men go travelling together, it is best to +be prepared for all. Let me add that, if by any chance you should +lose young Mr. Geraldine upon the way, I shall always have another +member of my household to place at your disposal; and I am known, +Mr. President, to have long eyesight, and as long an arm." + +With these words, said with much sternness, the Prince concluded +his address. Next morning the members of the club were suitably +provided for by his munificence, and the President set forth upon +his travels, under the supervision of Mr. Geraldine, and a pair of +faithful and adroit lackeys, well trained in the Prince's +household. Not content with this, discreet agents were put in +possession of the house in Box Court, and all letters or visitors +for the Suicide Club or its officials were to be examined by Prince +Florizel in person. + +Here (says my Arabian author) ends THE STORY OF THE YOUNG MAN WITH +THE CREAM TARTS, who is now a comfortable householder in Wigmore +Street, Cavendish Square. The number, for obvious reasons, I +suppress. Those who care to pursue the adventures of Prince +Florizel and the President of the Suicide Club, may read the +HISTORY OF THE PHYSICIAN AND THE SARATOGA TRUNK. + + + +STORY OF THE PHYSICIAN AND THE SARATOGA TRUNK + + + +MR. SILAS Q. SCUDDAMORE was a young American of a simple and +harmless disposition, which was the more to his credit as he came +from New England - a quarter of the New World not precisely famous +for those qualities. Although he was exceedingly rich, he kept a +note of all his expenses in a little paper pocket-book; and he had +chosen to study the attractions of Paris from the seventh story of +what is called a furnished hotel, in the Latin Quarter. There was +a great deal of habit in his penuriousness; and his virtue, which +was very remarkable among his associates, was principally founded +upon diffidence and youth. + +The next room to his was inhabited by a lady, very attractive in +her air and very elegant in toilette, whom, on his first arrival, +he had taken for a Countess. In course of time he had learned that +she was known by the name of Madame Zephyrine, and that whatever +station she occupied in life it was not that of a person of title. +Madame Zephyrine, probably in the hope of enchanting the young +American, used to flaunt by him on the stairs with a civil +inclination, a word of course, and a knock-down look out of her +black eyes, and disappear in a rustle of silk, and with the +revelation of an admirable foot and ankle. But these advances, so +far from encouraging Mr. Scuddamore, plunged him into the depths of +depression and bashfulness. She had come to him several times for +a light, or to apologise for the imaginary depredations of her +poodle; but his mouth was closed in the presence of so superior a +being, his French promptly left him, and he could only stare and +stammer until she was gone. The slenderness of their intercourse +did not prevent him from throwing out insinuations of a very +glorious order when he was safely alone with a few males. + +The room on the other side of the American's - for there were three +rooms on a floor in the hotel - was tenanted by an old English +physician of rather doubtful reputation. Dr. Noel, for that was +his name, had been forced to leave London, where he enjoyed a large +and increasing practice; and it was hinted that the police had been +the instigators of this change of scene. At least he, who had made +something of a figure in earlier life, now dwelt in the Latin +Quarter in great simplicity and solitude, and devoted much of his +time to study. Mr. Scuddamore had made his acquaintance, and the +pair would now and then dine together frugally in a restaurant +across the street. + +Silas Q. Scuddamore had many little vices of the more respectable +order, and was not restrained by delicacy from indulging them in +many rather doubtful ways. Chief among his foibles stood +curiosity. He was a born gossip; and life, and especially those +parts of it in which he had no experience, interested him to the +degree of passion. He was a pert, invincible questioner, pushing +his inquiries with equal pertinacity and indiscretion; he had been +observed, when he took a letter to the post, to weigh it in his +hand, to turn it over and over, and to study the address with care; +and when he found a flaw in the partition between his room and +Madame Zephyrine's, instead of filling it up, he enlarged and +improved the opening, and made use of it as a spy-hole on his +neighbour's affairs. + +One day, in the end of March, his curiosity growing as it was +indulged, he enlarged the hole a little further, so that he might +command another corner of the room. That evening, when he went as +usual to inspect Madame Zephyrine's movements, he was astonished to +find the aperture obscured in an odd manner on the other side, and +still more abashed when the obstacle was suddenly withdrawn and a +titter of laughter reached his ears. Some of the plaster had +evidently betrayed the secret of his spy-hole, and his neighbour +had been returning the compliment in kind. Mr. Scuddamore was +moved to a very acute feeling of annoyance; he condemned Madame +Zephyrine unmercifully; he even blamed himself; but when he found, +next day, that she had taken no means to baulk him of his favourite +pastime, he continued to profit by her carelessness, and gratify +his idle curiosity. + +That next day Madame Zephyrine received a long visit from a tall, +loosely-built man of fifty or upwards, whom Silas had not hitherto +seen. His tweed suit and coloured shirt, no less than his shaggy +side-whiskers, identified him as a Britisher, and his dull grey eye +affected Silas with a sense of cold. He kept screwing his mouth +from side to side and round and round during the whole colloquy, +which was carried on in whispers. More than once it seemed to the +young New Englander as if their gestures indicated his own +apartment; but the only thing definite he could gather by the most +scrupulous attention was this remark made by the Englishman in a +somewhat higher key, as if in answer to some reluctance or +opposition. + +"I have studied his taste to a nicety, and I tell you again and +again you are the only woman of the sort that I can lay my hands +on." + +In answer to this, Madame Zephyrine sighed, and appeared by a +gesture to resign herself, like one yielding to unqualified +authority. + +That afternoon the observatory was finally blinded, a wardrobe +having been drawn in front of it upon the other side; and while +Silas was still lamenting over this misfortune, which he attributed +to the Britisher's malign suggestion, the concierge brought him up +a letter in a female handwriting. It was conceived in French of no +very rigorous orthography, bore no signature, and in the most +encouraging terms invited the young American to be present in a +certain part of the Bullier Ball at eleven o'clock that night. +Curiosity and timidity fought a long battle in his heart; sometimes +he was all virtue, sometimes all fire and daring; and the result of +it was that, long before ten, Mr. Silas Q. Scuddamore presented +himself in unimpeachable attire at the door of the Bullier Ball +Rooms, and paid his entry money with a sense of reckless devilry +that was not without its charm. + +It was Carnival time, and the Ball was very full and noisy. The +lights and the crowd at first rather abashed our young adventurer, +and then, mounting to his brain with a sort of intoxication, put +him in possession of more than his own share of manhood. He felt +ready to face the devil, and strutted in the ballroom with the +swagger of a cavalier. While he was thus parading, he became aware +of Madame Zephyrine and her Britisher in conference behind a +pillar. The cat-like spirit of eaves-dropping overcame him at +once. He stole nearer and nearer on the couple from behind, until +he was within earshot. + +"That is the man," the Britisher was saying; "there - with the long +blond hair - speaking to a girl in green." + +Silas identified a very handsome young fellow of small stature, who +was plainly the object of this designation. + +"It is well," said Madame Zephyrine. "I shall do my utmost. But, +remember, the best of us may fail in such a matter." + +"Tut!" returned her companion; "I answer for the result. Have I +not chosen you from thirty? Go; but be wary of the Prince. I +cannot think what cursed accident has brought him here to-night. +As if there were not a dozen balls in Paris better worth his notice +than this riot of students and counter-jumpers! See him where he +sits, more like a reigning Emperor at home than a Prince upon his +holidays!" + +Silas was again lucky. He observed a person of rather a full +build, strikingly handsome, and of a very stately and courteous +demeanour, seated at table with another handsome young man, several +years his junior, who addressed him with conspicuous deference. +The name of Prince struck gratefully on Silas's Republican hearing, +and the aspect of the person to whom that name was applied +exercised its usual charm upon his mind. He left Madame Zephyrine +and her Englishman to take care of each other, and threading his +way through the assembly, approached the table which the Prince and +his confidant had honoured with their choice. + +"I tell you, Geraldine," the former was saying, "the action is +madness. Yourself (I am glad to remember it) chose your brother +for this perilous service, and you are bound in duty to have a +guard upon his conduct. He has consented to delay so many days in +Paris; that was already an imprudence, considering the character of +the man he has to deal with; but now, when he is within eight-and- +forty hours of his departure, when he is within two or three days +of the decisive trial, I ask you, is this a place for him to spend +his time? He should be in a gallery at practice; he should be +sleeping long hours and taking moderate exercise on foot; he should +be on a rigorous diet, without white wines or brandy. Does the dog +imagine we are all playing comedy? The thing is deadly earnest, +Geraldine." + +"I know the lad too well to interfere," replied Colonel Geraldine, +"and well enough not to be alarmed. He is more cautious than you +fancy, and of an indomitable spirit. If it had been a woman I +should not say so much, but I trust the President to him and the +two valets without an instant's apprehension." + +"I am gratified to hear you say so," replied the Prince; "but my +mind is not at rest. These servants are well-trained spies, and +already has not this miscreant succeeded three times in eluding +their observation and spending several hours on end in private, and +most likely dangerous, affairs? An amateur might have lost him by +accident, but if Rudolph and Jerome were thrown off the scent, it +must have been done on purpose, and by a man who had a cogent +reason and exceptional resources." + +"I believe the question is now one between my brother and myself," +replied Geraldine, with a shade of offence in his tone. + +"I permit it to be so, Colonel Geraldine," returned Prince +Florizel. "Perhaps, for that very reason, you should be all the +more ready to accept my counsels. But enough. That girl in yellow +dances well." + +And the talk veered into the ordinary topics of a Paris ballroom in +the Carnival. + +Silas remembered where he was, and that the hour was already near +at hand when he ought to be upon the scene of his assignation. The +more he reflected the less he liked the prospect, and as at that +moment an eddy in the crowd began to draw him in the direction of +the door, he suffered it to carry him away without resistance. The +eddy stranded him in a corner under the gallery, where his ear was +immediately struck with the voice of Madame Zephyrine. She was +speaking in French with the young man of the blond locks who had +been pointed out by the strange Britisher not half-an-hour before. + +"I have a character at stake," she said, "or I would put no other +condition than my heart recommends. But you have only to say so +much to the porter, and he will let you go by without a word." + +"But why this talk of debt?" objected her companion. + +"Heavens!" said she, "do you think I do not understand my own +hotel?" + +And she went by, clinging affectionately to her companion's arm. + +This put Silas in mind of his billet. + +"Ten minutes hence," thought he, "and I may be walking with as +beautiful a woman as that, and even better dressed - perhaps a real +lady, possibly a woman or title." + +And then he remembered the spelling, and was a little downcast. + +"But it may have been written by her maid," he imagined. + +The clock was only a few minutes from the hour, and this immediate +proximity set his heart beating at a curious and rather +disagreeable speed. He reflected with relief that he was in no way +bound to put in an appearance. Virtue and cowardice were together, +and he made once more for the door, but this time of his own +accord, and battling against the stream of people which was now +moving in a contrary direction. Perhaps this prolonged resistance +wearied him, or perhaps he was in that frame of mind when merely to +continue in the same determination for a certain number of minutes +produces a reaction and a different purpose. Certainly, at least, +he wheeled about for a third time, and did not stop until he had +found a place of concealment within a few yards of the appointed +place. + +Here he went through an agony of spirit, in which he several times +prayed to God for help, for Silas had been devoutly educated. He +had now not the least inclination for the meeting; nothing kept him +from flight but a silly fear lest he should be thought unmanly; but +this was so powerful that it kept head against all other motives; +and although it could not decide him to advance, prevented him from +definitely running away. At last the clock indicated ten minutes +past the hour. Young Scuddamore's spirit began to rise; he peered +round the corner and saw no one at the place of meeting; doubtless +his unknown correspondent had wearied and gone away. He became as +bold as he had formerly been timid. It seemed to him that if he +came at all to the appointment, however late, he was clear from the +charge of cowardice. Nay, now he began to suspect a hoax, and +actually complimented himself on his shrewdness in having suspected +and outmanoeuvred his mystifiers. So very idle a thing is a boy's +mind! + +Armed with these reflections, he advanced boldly from his corner; +but he had not taken above a couple of steps before a hand was laid +upon his arm. He turned and beheld a lady cast in a very large +mould and with somewhat stately features, but bearing no mark of +severity in her looks. + +"I see that you are a very self-confident lady-killer," said she; +"for you make yourself expected. But I was determined to meet you. +When a woman has once so far forgotten herself as to make the first +advance, she has long ago left behind her all considerations of +petty pride." + +Silas was overwhelmed by the size and attractions of his +correspondent and the suddenness with which she had fallen upon +him. But she soon set him at his ease. She was very towardly and +lenient in her behaviour; she led him on to make pleasantries, and +then applauded him to the echo; and in a very short time, between +blandishments and a liberal exhibition of warm brandy, she had not +only induced him to fancy himself in love, but to declare his +passion with the greatest vehemence. + +"Alas!" she said; "I do not know whether I ought not to deplore +this moment, great as is the pleasure you give me by your words. +Hitherto I was alone to suffer; now, poor boy, there will be two. +I am not my own mistress. I dare not ask you to visit me at my own +house, for I am watched by jealous eyes. Let me see," she added; +"I am older than you, although so much weaker; and while I trust in +your courage and determination, I must employ my own knowledge of +the world for our mutual benefit. Where do you live?" + +He told her that he lodged in a furnished hotel, and named the +street and number. + +She seemed to reflect for some minutes, with an effort of mind. + +"I see," she said at last. "You will be faithful and obedient, +will you not?" + +Silas assured her eagerly of his fidelity. + +"To-morrow night, then," she continued, with an encouraging smile, +"you must remain at home all the evening; and if any friends should +visit you, dismiss them at once on any pretext that most readily +presents itself. Your door is probably shut by ten?" she asked. + +"By eleven," answered Silas. + +"At a quarter past eleven," pursued the lady, "leave the house. +Merely cry for the door to be opened, and be sure you fall into no +talk with the porter, as that might ruin everything. Go straight +to the corner where the Luxembourg Gardens join the Boulevard; +there you will find me waiting you. I trust you to follow my +advice from point to point: and remember, if you fail me in only +one particular, you will bring the sharpest trouble on a woman +whose only fault is to have seen and loved you." + +"I cannot see the use of all these instructions," said Silas. + +"I believe you are already beginning to treat me as a master," she +cried, tapping him with her fan upon the arm. "Patience, patience! +that should come in time. A woman loves to be obeyed at first, +although afterwards she finds her pleasure in obeying. Do as I ask +you, for Heaven's sake, or I will answer for nothing. Indeed, now +I think of it," she added, with the manner of one who has just seen +further into a difficulty, "I find a better plan of keeping +importunate visitors away. Tell the porter to admit no one for +you, except a person who may come that night to claim a debt; and +speak with some feeling, as though you feared the interview, so +that he may take your words in earnest." + +"I think you may trust me to protect myself against intruders," he +said, not without a little pique. + +"That is how I should prefer the thing arranged," she answered +coldly. "I know you men; you think nothing of a woman's +reputation." + +Silas blushed and somewhat hung his head; for the scheme he had in +view had involved a little vain-glorying before his acquaintances. + +"Above all," she added, "do not speak to the porter as you come +out." + +"And why?" said he. "Of all your instructions, that seems to me +the least important." + +"You at first doubted the wisdom of some of the others, which you +now see to be very necessary," she replied. "Believe me, this also +has its uses; in time you will see them; and what am I to think of +your affection, if you refuse me such trifles at our first +interview?" + +Silas confounded himself in explanations and apologies; in the +middle of these she looked up at the clock and clapped her hands +together with a suppressed scream. + +"Heavens!" she cried, "is it so late? I have not an instant to +lose. Alas, we poor women, what slaves we are! What have I not +risked for you already?" + +And after repeating her directions, which she artfully combined +with caresses and the most abandoned looks, she bade him farewell +and disappeared among the crowd. + +The whole of the next day Silas was filled with a sense of great +importance; he was now sure she was a countess; and when evening +came he minutely obeyed her orders and was at the corner of the +Luxembourg Gardens by the hour appointed. No one was there. He +waited nearly half-an-hour, looking in the face of every one who +passed or loitered near the spot; he even visited the neighbouring +corners of the Boulevard and made a complete circuit of the garden +railings; but there was no beautiful countess to throw herself into +his arms. At last, and most reluctantly, he began to retrace his +steps towards his hotel. On the way he remembered the words he had +heard pass between Madame Zephyrine and the blond young man, and +they gave him an indefinite uneasiness. + +"It appears," he reflected, "that every one has to tell lies to our +porter." + +He rang the bell, the door opened before him, and the porter in his +bed-clothes came to offer him a light. + +"Has he gone?" inquired the porter. + +"He? Whom do you mean?" asked Silas, somewhat sharply, for he was +irritated by his disappointment. + +"I did not notice him go out," continued the porter, "but I trust +you paid him. We do not care, in this house, to have lodgers who +cannot meet their liabilities." + +"What the devil do you mean?" demanded Silas rudely. "I cannot +understand a word of this farrago." + +"The short blond young man who came for his debt," returned the +other. "Him it is I mean. Who else should it be, when I had your +orders to admit no one else?" + +"Why, good God, of course he never came," retorted Silas. + +"I believe what I believe," returned the porter, putting his tongue +into his cheek with a most roguish air. + +"You are an insolent scoundrel," cried Silas, and, feeling that he +had made a ridiculous exhibition of asperity, and at the same time +bewildered by a dozen alarms, he turned and began to run upstairs. + +"Do you not want a light then?" cried the porter. + +But Silas only hurried the faster, and did not pause until he had +reached the seventh landing and stood in front of his own door. +There he waited a moment to recover his breath, assailed by the +worst forebodings and almost dreading to enter the room. + +When at last he did so he was relieved to find it dark, and to all +appearance, untenanted. He drew a long breath. Here he was, home +again in safety, and this should be his last folly as certainly as +it had been his first. The matches stood on a little table by the +bed, and he began to grope his way in that direction. As he moved, +his apprehensions grew upon him once more, and he was pleased, when +his foot encountered an obstacle, to find it nothing more alarming +than a chair. At last he touched curtains. From the position of +the window, which was faintly visible, he knew he must be at the +foot of the bed, and had only to feel his way along it in order to +reach the table in question. + +He lowered his hand, but what it touched was not simply a +counterpane - it was a counterpane with something underneath it +like the outline of a human leg. Silas withdrew his arm and stood +a moment petrified. + +"What, what," he thought, "can this betoken?" + +He listened intently, but there was no sound of breathing. Once +more, with a great effort, he reached out the end of his finger to +the spot he had already touched; but this time he leaped back half +a yard, and stood shivering and fixed with terror. There was +something in his bed. What it was he knew not, but there was +something there. + +It was some seconds before he could move. Then, guided by an +instinct, he fell straight upon the matches, and keeping his back +towards the bed lighted a candle. As soon as the flame had +kindled, he turned slowly round and looked for what he feared to +see. Sure enough, there was the worst of his imaginations +realised. The coverlid was drawn carefully up over the pillow, but +it moulded the outline of a human body lying motionless; and when +he dashed forward and flung aside the sheets, he beheld the blond +young man whom he had seen in the Bullier Ball the night before, +his eyes open and without speculation, his face swollen and +blackened, and a thin stream of blood trickling from his nostrils. + +Silas uttered a long, tremulous wail, dropped the candle, and fell +on his knees beside the bed. + +Silas was awakened from the stupor into which his terrible +discovery had plunged him by a prolonged but discreet tapping at +the door. It took him some seconds to remember his position; and +when he hastened to prevent anyone from entering it was already too +late. Dr. Noel, in a tall night-cap, carrying a lamp which lighted +up his long white countenance, sidling in his gait, and peering and +cocking his head like some sort of bird, pushed the door slowly +open, and advanced into the middle of the room. + +"I thought I heard a cry," began the Doctor, "and fearing you might +be unwell I did not hesitate to offer this intrusion." + +Silas, with a flushed face and a fearful beating heart, kept +between the Doctor and the bed; but he found no voice to answer. + +"You are in the dark," pursued the Doctor; "and yet you have not +even begun to prepare for rest. You will not easily persuade me +against my own eyesight; and your face declares most eloquently +that you require either a friend or a physician - which is it to +be? Let me feel your pulse, for that is often a just reporter of +the heart." + +He advanced to Silas, who still retreated before him backwards, and +sought to take him by the wrist; but the strain on the young +American's nerves had become too great for endurance. He avoided +the Doctor with a febrile movement, and, throwing himself upon the +floor, burst into a flood of weeping. + +As soon as Dr. Noel perceived the dead man in the bed his face +darkened; and hurrying back to the door which he had left ajar, he +hastily closed and double-locked it. + +"Up!" he cried, addressing Silas in strident tones; "this is no +time for weeping. What have you done? How came this body in your +room? Speak freely to one who may be helpful. Do you imagine I +would ruin you? Do you think this piece of dead flesh on your +pillow can alter in any degree the sympathy with which you have +inspired me? Credulous youth, the horror with which blind and +unjust law regards an action never attaches to the doer in the eyes +of those who love him; and if I saw the friend of my heart return +to me out of seas of blood he would be in no way changed in my +affection. Raise yourself," he said; "good and ill are a chimera; +there is nought in life except destiny, and however you may be +circumstanced there is one at your side who will help you to the +last." + +Thus encouraged, Silas gathered himself together, and in a broken +voice, and helped out by the Doctor's interrogations, contrived at +last to put him in possession of the facts. But the conversation +between the Prince and Geraldine he altogether omitted, as he had +understood little of its purport, and had no idea that it was in +any way related to his own misadventure. + +"Alas!" cried Dr. Noel, "I am much abused, or you have fallen +innocently into the most dangerous hands in Europe. Poor boy, what +a pit has been dug for your simplicity! into what a deadly peril +have your unwary feet been conducted! This man," he said, "this +Englishman, whom you twice saw, and whom I suspect to be the soul +of the contrivance, can you describe him? Was he young or old? +tall or short?" + +But Silas, who, for all his curiosity, had not a seeing eye in his +head, was able to supply nothing but meagre generalities, which it +was impossible to recognise. + +"I would have it a piece of education in all schools!" cried the +Doctor angrily. "Where is the use of eyesight and articulate +speech if a man cannot observe and recollect the features of his +enemy? I, who know all the gangs of Europe, might have identified +him, and gained new weapons for your defence. Cultivate this art +in future, my poor boy; you may find it of momentous service." + +"The future!" repeated Silas. "What future is there left for me +except the gallows?" + +"Youth is but a cowardly season," returned the Doctor; "and a man's +own troubles look blacker than they are. I am old, and yet I never +despair." + +"Can I tell such a story to the police?" demanded Silas. + +"Assuredly not," replied the Doctor. "From what I see already of +the machination in which you have been involved, your case is +desperate upon that side; and for the narrow eye of the authorities +you are infallibly the guilty person. And remember that we only +know a portion of the plot; and the same infamous contrivers have +doubtless arranged many other circumstances which would be elicited +by a police inquiry, and help to fix the guilt more certainly upon +your innocence." + +"I am then lost, indeed!" cried Silas. + +"I have not said so," answered Dr. Noel "for I am a cautious man." + +"But look at this!" objected Silas, pointing to the body. "Here is +this object in my bed; not to be explained, not to be disposed of, +not to be regarded without horror." + +"Horror?" replied the Doctor. "No. When this sort of clock has +run down, it is no more to me than an ingenious piece of mechanism, +to be investigated with the bistoury. When blood is once cold and +stagnant, it is no longer human blood; when flesh is once dead, it +is no longer that flesh which we desire in our lovers and respect +in our friends. The grace, the attraction, the terror, have all +gone from it with the animating spirit. Accustom yourself to look +upon it with composure; for if my scheme is practicable you will +have to live some days in constant proximity to that which now so +greatly horrifies you." + +"Your scheme?" cried Silas. "What is that? Tell me speedily, +Doctor; for I have scarcely courage enough to continue to exist." + +Without replying, Doctor Noel turned towards the bed, and proceeded +to examine the corpse. + +"Quite dead," he murmured. "Yes, as I had supposed, the pockets +empty. Yes, and the name cut off the shirt. Their work has been +done thoroughly and well. Fortunately, he is of small stature." + +Silas followed these words with an extreme anxiety. At last the +Doctor, his autopsy completed, took a chair and addressed the young +American with a smile. + +"Since I came into your room," said he, "although my ears and my +tongue have been so busy, I have not suffered my eyes to remain +idle. I noted a little while ago that you have there, in the +corner, one of those monstrous constructions which your fellow- +countrymen carry with them into all quarters of the globe - in a +word, a Saratoga trunk. Until this moment I have never been able +to conceive the utility of these erections; but then I began to +have a glimmer. Whether it was for convenience in the slave trade, +or to obviate the results of too ready an employment of the bowie- +knife, I cannot bring myself to decide. But one thing I see +plainly - the object of such a box is to contain a human body. + +"Surely," cried Silas, "surely this is not a time for jesting." + +"Although I may express myself with some degree of pleasantry," +replied the Doctor, "the purport of my words is entirely serious. +And the first thing we have to do, my young friend, is to empty +your coffer of all that it contains." + +Silas, obeying the authority of Doctor Noel, put himself at his +disposition. The Saratoga trunk was soon gutted of its contents, +which made a considerable litter on the floor; and then - Silas +taking the heels and the Doctor supporting the shoulders - the body +of the murdered man was carried from the bed, and, after some +difficulty, doubled up and inserted whole into the empty box. With +an effort on the part of both, the lid was forced down upon this +unusual baggage, and the trunk was locked and corded by the +Doctor's own hand, while Silas disposed of what had been taken out +between the closet and a chest of drawers. + +"Now," said the Doctor, "the first step has been taken on the way +to your deliverance. To-morrow, or rather to-day, it must be your +task to allay the suspicions of your porter, paying him all that +you owe; while you may trust me to make the arrangements necessary +to a safe conclusion. Meantime, follow me to my room, where I +shall give you a safe and powerful opiate; for, whatever you do, +you must have rest." + +The next day was the longest in Silas's memory; it seemed as if it +would never be done. He denied himself to his friends, and sat in +a corner with his eyes fixed upon the Saratoga trunk in dismal +contemplation. His own former indiscretions were now returned upon +him in kind; for the observatory had been once more opened, and he +was conscious of an almost continual study from Madame Zephyrine's +apartment. So distressing did this become, that he was at last +obliged to block up the spy-hole from his own side; and when he was +thus secured from observation he spent a considerable portion of +his time in contrite tears and prayer. + +Late in the evening Dr. Noel entered the room carrying in his hand +a pair of sealed envelopes without address, one somewhat bulky, and +the other so slim as to seem without enclosure. + +"Silas," he said, seating himself at the table, "the time has now +come for me to explain my plan for your salvation. To-morrow +morning, at an early hour, Prince Florizel of Bohemia returns to +London, after having diverted himself for a few days with the +Parisian Carnival. It was my fortune, a good while ago, to do +Colonel Geraldine, his Master of the Horse, one of those services, +so common in my profession, which are never forgotten upon either +side. I have no need to explain to you the nature of the +obligation under which he was laid; suffice it to say that I knew +him ready to serve me in any practicable manner. Now, it was +necessary for you to gain London with your trunk unopened. To this +the Custom House seemed to oppose a fatal difficulty; but I +bethought me that the baggage of so considerable a person as the +Prince, is, as a matter of courtesy, passed without examination by +the officers of Custom. I applied to Colonel Geraldine, and +succeeded in obtaining a favourable answer. To-morrow, if you go +before six to the hotel where the Prince lodges, your baggage will +be passed over as a part of his, and you yourself will make the +journey as a member of his suite." + +"It seems to me, as you speak, that I have already seen both the +Prince and Colonel Geraldine; I even overheard some of their +conversation the other evening at the Bullier Ball." + +"It is probable enough; for the Prince loves to mix with all +societies," replied the Doctor. "Once arrived in London," he +pursued, "your task is nearly ended. In this more bulky envelope I +have given you a letter which I dare not address; but in the other +you will find the designation of the house to which you must carry +it along with your box, which will there be taken from you and not +trouble you any more." + +"Alas!" said Silas, "I have every wish to believe you; but how is +it possible? You open up to me a bright prospect, but, I ask you, +is my mind capable of receiving so unlikely a solution? Be more +generous, and let me further understand your meaning." + +The Doctor seemed painfully impressed. + +"Boy," he answered, "you do not know how hard a thing you ask of +me. But be it so. I am now inured to humiliation; and it would be +strange if I refused you this, after having granted you so much. +Know, then, that although I now make so quiet an appearance - +frugal, solitary, addicted to study - when I was younger, my name +was once a rallying-cry among the most astute and dangerous spirits +of London; and while I was outwardly an object for respect and +consideration, my true power resided in the most secret, terrible, +and criminal relations. It is to one of the persons who then +obeyed me that I now address myself to deliver you from your +burden. They were men of many different nations and dexterities, +all bound together by a formidable oath, and working to the same +purposes; the trade of the association was in murder; and I who +speak to you, innocent as I appear, was the chieftain of this +redoubtable crew." + +"What?" cried Silas. "A murderer? And one with whom murder was a +trade? Can I take your hand? Ought I so much as to accept your +services? Dark and criminal old man, would you make an accomplice +of my youth and my distress?" + +The Doctor bitterly laughed. + +"You are difficult to please, Mr. Scuddamore," said he; "but I now +offer you your choice of company between the murdered man and the +murderer. If your conscience is too nice to accept my aid, say so, +and I will immediately leave you. Thenceforward you can deal with +your trunk and its belongings as best suits your upright +conscience." + +"I own myself wrong," replied Silas. "I should have remembered how +generously you offered to shield me, even before I had convinced +you of my innocence, and I continue to listen to your counsels with +gratitude." + +"That is well," returned the Doctor; "and I perceive you are +beginning to learn some of the lessons of experience." + +"At the same time," resumed the New-Englander, "as you confess +yourself accustomed o this tragical business, and the people to +whom you recommend me are your own former associates and friends, +could you not yourself undertake the transport of the box, and rid +me at once of its detested presence?" + +"Upon my word," replied the Doctor, "I admire you cordially. If +you do not think I have already meddled sufficiently in your +concerns, believe me, from my heart I think the contrary. Take or +leave my services as I offer them; and trouble me with no more +words of gratitude, for I value your consideration even more +lightly than I do your intellect. A time will come, if you should +be spared to see a number of years in health of mind, when you will +think differently of all this, and blush for your to-night's +behaviour." + +So saying, the Doctor arose from his chair, repeated his directions +briefly and clearly, and departed from the room without permitting +Silas any time to answer. + +The next morning Silas presented himself at the hotel, where he was +politely received by Colonel Geraldine, and relieved, from that +moment, of all immediate alarm about his trunk and its grisly +contents. The journey passed over without much incident, although +the young man was horrified to overhear the sailors and railway +porters complaining among themselves about the unusual weight of +the Prince's baggage. Silas travelled in a carriage with the +valets, for Prince Florizel chose to be alone with his Master of +the Horse. On board the steamer, however, Silas attracted his +Highness's attention by the melancholy of his air and attitude as +he stood gazing at the pile of baggage; for he was still full of +disquietude about the future. + +"There is a young man," observed the Prince, "who must have some +cause for sorrow." + +"That," replied Geraldine, "is the American for whom I obtained +permission to travel with your suite." + +"You remind me that I have been remiss in courtesy," said Prince +Florizel, and advancing to Silas, he addressed him with the most +exquisite condescension in these words:- "I was charmed, young sir, +to be able to gratify the desire you made known to me through +Colonel Geraldine. Remember, if you please, that I shall be glad +at any future time to lay you under a more serious obligation." + +And he then put some questions as to the political condition of +America, which Silas answered with sense and propriety. + +"You are still a young man," said the Prince; "but I observe you to +be very serious for your years. Perhaps you allow your attention +to be too much occupied with grave studies. But, perhaps, on the +other hand, I am myself indiscreet and touch upon a painful +subject." + +"I have certainly cause to be the most miserable of men," said +Silas; "never has a more innocent person been more dismally +abused." + +"I will not ask you for your confidence," returned Prince Florizel. +"But do not forget that Colonel Geraldine's recommendation is an +unfailing passport; and that I am not only willing, but possibly +more able than many others, to do you a service." + +Silas was delighted with the amiability of this great personage; +but his mind soon returned upon its gloomy preoccupations; for not +even the favour of a Prince to a Republican can discharge a +brooding spirit of its cares. + +The train arrived at Charing Cross, where the officers of the +Revenue respected the baggage of Prince Florizel in the usual +manner. The most elegant equipages were in waiting; and Silas was +driven, along with the rest, to the Prince's residence. There +Colonel Geraldine sought him out, and expressed himself pleased to +have been of any service to a friend of the physician's, for whom +he professed a great consideration. + +"I hope," he added, "that you will find none of your porcelain +injured. Special orders were given along the line to deal tenderly +with the Prince's effects." + +And then, directing the servants to place one of the carriages at +the young gentleman's disposal, and at once to charge the Saratoga +trunk upon the dickey, the Colonel shook hands and excused himself +on account of his occupations in the princely household. + +Silas now broke the seal of the envelope containing the address, +and directed the stately footman to drive him to Box Court, opening +off the Strand. It seemed as if the place were not at all unknown +to the man, for he looked startled and begged a repetition of the +order. It was with a heart full of alarms, that Silas mounted into +the luxurious vehicle, and was driven to his destination. The +entrance to Box Court was too narrow for the passage of a coach; it +was a mere footway between railings, with a post at either end. On +one of these posts was seated a man, who at once jumped down and +exchanged a friendly sign with the driver, while the footman opened +the door and inquired of Silas whether he should take down the +Saratoga trunk, and to what number it should be carried. + +"If you please," said Silas. "To number three." + +The footman and the man who had been sitting on the post, even with +the aid of Silas himself, had hard work to carry in the trunk; and +before it was deposited at the door of the house in question, the +young American was horrified to find a score of loiterers looking +on. But he knocked with as good a countenance as he could muster +up, and presented the other envelope to him who opened. + +"He is not at home," said he, "but if you will leave your letter +and return to-morrow early, I shall be able to inform you whether +and when he can receive your visit. Would you like to leave your +box?" he added. + +"Dearly," cried Silas; and the next moment he repented his +precipitation, and declared, with equal emphasis, that he would +rather carry the box along with him to the hotel. + +The crowd jeered at his indecision and followed him to the carriage +with insulting remarks; and Silas, covered with shame and terror, +implored the servants to conduct him to some quiet and comfortable +house of entertainment in the immediate neighbourhood. + +The Prince's equipage deposited Silas at the Craven Hotel in Craven +Street, and immediately drove away, leaving him alone with the +servants of the inn. The only vacant room, it appeared, was a +little den up four pairs of stairs, and looking towards the back. +To this hermitage, with infinite trouble and complaint, a pair of +stout porters carried the Saratoga trunk. It is needless to +mention that Silas kept closely at their heels throughout the +ascent, and had his heart in his mouth at every corner. A single +false step, he reflected, and the box might go over the banisters +and land its fatal contents, plainly discovered, on the pavement of +the hall. + +Arrived in the room, he sat down on the edge of his bed to recover +from the agony that he had just endured; but he had hardly taken +his position when he was recalled to a sense of his peril by the +action of the boots, who had knelt beside the trunk, and was +proceeding officiously to undo its elaborate fastenings. + +"Let it be!" cried Silas. "I shall want nothing from it while I +stay here." + +"You might have let it lie in the hall, then," growled the man; "a +thing as big and heavy as a church. What you have inside I cannot +fancy. If it is all money, you are a richer man than me." + +"Money?" repeated Silas, in a sudden perturbation. "What do you +mean by money? I have no money, and you are speaking like a fool." + +"All right, captain," retorted the boots with a wink. "There's +nobody will touch your lordship's money. I'm as safe as the bank," +he added; "but as the box is heavy, I shouldn't mind drinking +something to your lordship's health." + +Silas pressed two Napoleons upon his acceptance, apologising, at +the same time, for being obliged to trouble him with foreign money, +and pleading his recent arrival for excuse. And the man, grumbling +with even greater fervour, and looking contemptuously from the +money in his hand to the Saratoga trunk and back again from the one +to the other, at last consented to withdraw. + +For nearly two days the dead body had been packed into Silas's box; +and as soon as he was alone the unfortunate New-Englander nosed all +the cracks and openings with the most passionate attention. But +the weather was cool, and the trunk still managed to contain his +shocking secret. + +He took a chair beside it, and buried his face in his hands, and +his mind in the most profound reflection. If he were not speedily +relieved, no question but he must be speedily discovered. Alone in +a strange city, without friends or accomplices, if the Doctor's +introduction failed him, he was indubitably a lost New-Englander. +He reflected pathetically over his ambitious designs for the +future; he should not now become the hero and spokesman of his +native place of Bangor, Maine; he should not, as he had fondly +anticipated, move on from office to office, from honour to honour; +he might as well divest himself at once of all hope of being +acclaimed President of the United States, and leaving behind him a +statue, in the worst possible style of art, to adorn the Capitol at +Washington. Here he was, chained to a dead Englishman doubled up +inside a Saratoga trunk; whom he must get rid of, or perish from +the rolls of national glory! + +I should be afraid to chronicle the language employed by this young +man to the Doctor, to the murdered man, to Madame Zephyrine, to the +boots of the hotel, to the Prince's servants, and, in a word, to +all who had been ever so remotely connected with his horrible +misfortune. + +He slunk down to dinner about seven at night; but the yellow +coffee-room appalled him, the eyes of the other diners seemed to +rest on his with suspicion, and his mind remained upstairs with the +Saratoga trunk. When the waiter came to offer him cheese, his +nerves were already so much on edge that he leaped half-way out of +his chair and upset the remainder of a pint of ale upon the table- +cloth. + +The fellow offered to show him to the smoking-room when he had +done; and although he would have much preferred to return at once +to his perilous treasure, he had not the courage to refuse, and was +shown downstairs to the black, gas-lit cellar, which formed, and +possibly still forms, the divan of the Craven Hotel. + +Two very sad betting men were playing billiards, attended by a +moist, consumptive marker; and for the moment Silas imagined that +these were the only occupants of the apartment. But at the next +glance his eye fell upon a person smoking in the farthest corner, +with lowered eyes and a most respectable and modest aspect. He +knew at once that he had seen the face before; and, in spite of the +entire change of clothes, recognised the man whom he had found +seated on a post at the entrance to Box Court, and who had helped +him to carry the trunk to and from the carriage. The New-Englander +simply turned and ran, nor did he pause until he had locked and +bolted himself into his bedroom. + +There, all night long, a prey to the most terrible imaginations, he +watched beside the fatal boxful of dead flesh. The suggestion of +the boots that his trunk was full of gold inspired him with all +manner of new terrors, if he so much as dared to close an eye; and +the presence in the smoking-room, and under an obvious disguise, of +the loiterer from Box Court convinced him that he was once more the +centre of obscure machinations. + +Midnight had sounded some time, when, impelled by uneasy +suspicions, Silas opened his bedroom door and peered into the +passage. It was dimly illuminated by a single jet of gas; and some +distance off he perceived a man sleeping on the floor in the +costume of an hotel under-servant. Silas drew near the man on +tiptoe. He lay partly on his back, partly on his side, and his +right forearm concealed his face from recognition. Suddenly, while +the American was still bending over him, the sleeper removed his +arm and opened his eyes, and Silas found himself once more face to +face with the loiterer of Box Court. + +"Good-night, sir," said the man, pleasantly. + +But Silas was too profoundly moved to find an answer, and regained +his room in silence. + +Towards morning, worn out by apprehension, he fell asleep on his +chair, with his head forward on the trunk. In spite of so +constrained an attitude and such a grisly pillow, his slumber was +sound and prolonged, and he was only awakened at a late hour and by +a sharp tapping at the door. + +He hurried to open, and found the boots without. + +"You are the gentleman who called yesterday at Box Court?" he +asked. + +Silas, with a quaver, admitted that he had done so. + +"Then this note is for you," added the servant, proffering a sealed +envelope. + +Silas tore it open, and found inside the words: "Twelve o'clock." + +He was punctual to the hour; the trunk was carried before him by +several stout servants; and he was himself ushered into a room, +where a man sat warming himself before the fire with his back +towards the door. The sound of so many persons entering and +leaving, and the scraping of the trunk as it was deposited upon the +bare boards, were alike unable to attract the notice of the +occupant; and Silas stood waiting, in an agony of fear, until he +should deign to recognise his presence. + +Perhaps five minutes had elapsed before the man turned leisurely +about, and disclosed the features of Prince Florizel of Bohemia. + +"So, sir," he said, with great severity, "this is the manner in +which you abuse my politeness. You join yourselves to persons of +condition, I perceive, for no other purpose than to escape the +consequences of your crimes; and I can readily understand your +embarrassment when I addressed myself to you yesterday." + +"Indeed," cried Silas, "I am innocent of everything except +misfortune." + +And in a hurried voice, and with the greatest ingenuousness, he +recounted to the Prince the whole history of his calamity. + +"I see I have been mistaken," said his Highness, when he had heard +him to an end. "You are no other than a victim, and since I am not +to punish you may be sure I shall do my utmost to help. And now," +he continued, "to business. Open your box at once, and let me see +what it contains." + +Silas changed colour. + +"I almost fear to look upon it," he exclaimed. + +"Nay," replied the Prince, "have you not looked at it already? +This is a form of sentimentality to be resisted. The sight of a +sick man, whom we can still help, should appeal more directly to +the feelings than that of a dead man who is equally beyond help or +harm, love or hatred. Nerve yourself, Mr. Scuddamore," and then, +seeing that Silas still hesitated, "I do not desire to give another +name to my request," he added. + +The young American awoke as if out of a dream, and with a shiver of +repugnance addressed himself to loose the straps and open the lock +of the Saratoga trunk. The Prince stood by, watching with a +composed countenance and his hands behind his back. The body was +quite stiff, and it cost Silas a great effort, both moral and +physical, to dislodge it from its position, and discover the face. + +Prince Florizel started back with an exclamation of painful +surprise. + +"Alas!" he cried, "you little know, Mr. Scuddamore, what a cruel +gift you have brought me. This is a young man of my own suite, the +brother of my trusted friend; and it was upon matters of my own +service that he has thus perished at the hands of violent and +treacherous men. Poor Geraldine," he went on, as if to himself, +"in what words am I to tell you of your brother's fate? How can I +excuse myself in your eyes, or in the eyes of God, for the +presumptuous schemes that led him to this bloody and unnatural +death? Ah, Florizel! Florizel! when will you learn the discretion +that suits mortal life, and be no longer dazzled with the image of +power at your disposal? Power!" he cried; "who is more powerless? +I look upon this young man whom I have sacrificed, Mr. Scuddamore, +and feel how small a thing it is to be a Prince." + +Silas was moved at the sight of his emotion. He tried to murmur +some consolatory words, and burst into tears. + +The Prince, touched by his obvious intention, came up to him and +took him by the hand. + +"Command yourself," said he. "We have both much to learn, and we +shall both be better men for to-day's meeting." + +Silas thanked him in silence with an affectionate look. + +"Write me the address of Doctor Noel on this piece of paper," +continued the Prince, leading him towards the table; "and let me +recommend you, when you are again in Paris, to avoid the society of +that dangerous man. He has acted in this matter on a generous +inspiration; that I must believe; had he been privy to young +Geraldine's death he would never have despatched the body to the +care of the actual criminal." + +"The actual criminal!" repeated Silas in astonishment. + +"Even so," returned the Prince. "This letter, which the +disposition of Almighty Providence has so strangely delivered into +my hands, was addressed to no less a person than the criminal +himself, the infamous President of the Suicide Club. Seek to pry +no further in these perilous affairs, but content yourself with +your own miraculous escape, and leave this house at once. I have +pressing affairs, and must arrange at once about this poor clay, +which was so lately a gallant and handsome youth." + +Silas took a grateful and submissive leave of Prince Florizel, but +he lingered in Box Court until he saw him depart in a splendid +carriage on a visit to Colonel Henderson of the police. Republican +as he was, the young American took off his hat with almost a +sentiment of devotion to the retreating carriage. And the same +night he started by rail on his return to Paris. + + +Here (observes my Arabian author) is the end of THE HISTORY OF THE +PHYSICIAN AND THE SARATOGA TRUNK. Omitting some reflections on the +power of Providence, highly pertinent in the original, but little +suited to our occiddental taste, I shall only add that Mr. +Scuddamore has already begun to mount the ladder of political fame, +and by last advices was the Sheriff of his native town. + + + +THE ADVENTURE OF THE HANSOM CABS + + + +Lieutenant Brackenbury Rich had greatly distinguished himself in +one of the lesser Indian hill wars. He it was who took the +chieftain prisoner with his own hand; his gallantry was universally +applauded; and when he came home, prostrated by an ugly sabre cut +and a protracted jungle fever, society was prepared to welcome the +Lieutenant as a celebrity of minor lustre. But his was a character +remarkable for unaffected modesty; adventure was dear to his heart, +but he cared little for adulation; and he waited at foreign +watering-places and in Algiers until the fame of his exploits had +run through its nine days' vitality and begun to be forgotten. He +arrived in London at last, in the early season, with as little +observation as he could desire; and as he was an orphan and had +none but distant relatives who lived in the provinces, it was +almost as a foreigner that he installed himself in the capital of +the country for which he had shed his blood. + +On the day following his arrival he dined alone at a military club. +He shook hands with a few old comrades, and received their warm +congratulations; but as one and all had some engagement for the +evening, he found himself left entirely to his own resources. He +was in dress, for he had entertained the notion of visiting a +theatre. But the great city was new to him; he had gone from a +provincial school to a military college, and thence direct to the +Eastern Empire; and he promised himself a variety of delights in +this world for exploration. Swinging his cane, he took his way +westward. It was a mild evening, already dark, and now and then +threatening rain. The succession of faces in the lamplight stirred +the Lieutenant's imagination; and it seemed to him as if he could +walk for ever in that stimulating city atmosphere and surrounded by +the mystery of four million private lives. He glanced at the +houses, and marvelled what was passing behind those warmly-lighted +windows; he looked into face after face, and saw them each intent +upon some unknown interest, criminal or kindly. + +"They talk of war," he thought, "but this is the great battlefield +of mankind." + +And then he began to wonder that he should walk so long in this +complicated scene, and not chance upon so much as the shadow of an +adventure for himself. + +"All in good time," he reflected. "I am still a stranger, and +perhaps wear a strange air. But I must be drawn into the eddy +before long." + +The night was already well advanced when a plump of cold rain fell +suddenly out of the darkness. Brackenbury paused under some trees, +and as he did so he caught sight of a hansom cabman making him a +sign that he was disengaged. The circumstance fell in so happily +to the occasion that he at once raised his cane in answer, and had +soon ensconced himself in the London gondola. + +"Where to, sir?" asked the driver. + +"Where you please," said Brackenbury. + +And immediately, at a pace of surprising swiftness, the hansom +drove off through the rain into a maze of villas. One villa was so +like another, each with its front garden, and there was so little +to distinguish the deserted lamp-lit streets and crescents through +which the flying hansom took its way, that Brackenbury soon lost +all idea of direction. + +He would have been tempted to believe that the cabman was amusing +himself by driving him round and round and in and out about a small +quarter, but there was something business-like in the speed which +convinced him of the contrary. The man had an object in view, he +was hastening towards a definite end; and Brackenbury was at once +astonished at the fellow's skill in picking a way through such a +labyrinth, and a little concerned to imagine what was the occasion +of his hurry. He had heard tales of strangers falling ill in +London. Did the driver belong to some bloody and treacherous +association? and was he himself being whirled to a murderous death? + +The thought had scarcely presented itself, when the cab swung +sharply round a corner and pulled up before the garden gate of a +villa in a long and wide road. The house was brilliantly lighted +up. Another hansom had just driven away, and Brackenbury could see +a gentleman being admitted at the front door and received by +several liveried servants. He was surprised that the cabman should +have stopped so immediately in front of a house where a reception +was being held; but he did not doubt it was the result of accident, +and sat placidly smoking where he was, until he heard the trap +thrown open over his head. + +"Here we are, sir," said the driver. + +"Here!" repeated Brackenbury. "Where?" + +"You told me to take you where I pleased, sir," returned the man +with a chuckle, "and here we are." + +It struck Brackenbury that the voice was wonderfully smooth and +courteous for a man in so inferior a position; he remembered the +speed at which he had been driven; and now it occurred to him that +the hansom was more luxuriously appointed than the common run of +public conveyances. + +"I must ask you to explain," said he. "Do you mean to turn me out +into the rain? My good man, I suspect the choice is mine." + +"The choice is certainly yours," replied the driver; "but when I +tell you all, I believe I know how a gentleman of your figure will +decide. There is a gentlemen's party in this house. I do not know +whether the master be a stranger to London and without +acquaintances of his own; or whether he is a man of odd notions. +But certainly I was hired to kidnap single gentlemen in evening +dress, as many as I pleased, but military officers by preference. +You have simply to go in and say that Mr. Morris invited you." + +"Are you Mr. Morris?" inquired the Lieutenant. + +"Oh, no," replied the cabman. "Mr. Morris is the person of the +house." + +"It is not a common way of collecting guests," said Brackenbury: +"but an eccentric man might very well indulge the whim without any +intention to offend. And suppose that I refuse Mr. Morris's +invitation," he went on, "what then?" + +"My orders are to drive you back where I took you from," replied +the man, "and set out to look for others up to midnight. Those who +have no fancy for such an adventure, Mr. Morris said, were not the +guests for him." + +These words decided the Lieutenant on the spot. + +"After all," he reflected, as he descended from the hansom, "I have +not had long to wait for my adventure." + +He had hardly found footing on the side-walk, and was still feeling +in his pocket for the fare, when the cab swung about and drove off +by the way it came at the former break-neck velocity. Brackenbury +shouted after the man, who paid no heed, and continued to drive +away; but the sound of his voice was overheard in the house, the +door was again thrown open, emitting a flood of light upon the +garden, and a servant ran down to meet him holding an umbrella. + +"The cabman has been paid," observed the servant in a very civil +tone; and he proceeded to escort Brackenbury along the path and up +the steps. In the hall several other attendants relieved him of +his hat, cane, and paletot, gave him a ticket with a number in +return, and politely hurried him up a stair adorned with tropical +flowers, to the door of an apartment on the first storey. Here a +grave butler inquired his name, and announcing "Lieutenant +Brackenbury Rich," ushered him into the drawing-room of the house. + +A young man, slender and singularly handsome, came forward and +greeted him with an air at once courtly and affectionate. Hundreds +of candles, of the finest wax, lit up a room that was perfumed, +like the staircase, with a profusion of rare and beautiful +flowering shrubs. A side-table was loaded with tempting viands. +Several servants went to and fro with fruits and goblets of +champagne. The company was perhaps sixteen in number, all men, few +beyond the prime of life, and with hardly an exception, of a +dashing and capable exterior. They were divided into two groups, +one about a roulette board, and the other surrounding a table at +which one of their number held a bank of baccarat. + +"I see," thought Brackenbury, "I am in a private gambling saloon, +and the cabman was a tout." + +His eye had embraced the details, and his mind formed the +conclusion, while his host was still holding him by the hand; and +to him his looks returned from this rapid survey. At a second view +Mr. Morris surprised him still more than on the first. The easy +elegance of his manners, the distinction, amiability, and courage +that appeared upon his features, fitted very ill with the +Lieutenant's preconceptions on the subject of the proprietor of a +hell; and the tone of his conversation seemed to mark him out for a +man of position and merit. Brackenbury found he had an instinctive +liking for his entertainer; and though he chid himself for the +weakness, he was unable to resist a sort of friendly attraction for +Mr. Morris's person and character. + +"I have heard of you, Lieutenant Rich," said Mr. Morris, lowering +his tone; "and believe me I am gratified to make your acquaintance. +Your looks accord with the reputation that has preceded you from +India. And if you will forget for a while the irregularity of your +presentation in my house, I shall feel it not only an honour, but a +genuine pleasure besides. A man who makes a mouthful of barbarian +cavaliers," he added with a laugh, "should not be appalled by a +breach of etiquette, however serious." + +And he led him towards the sideboard and pressed him to partake of +some refreshment. + +"Upon my word," the Lieutenant reflected, "this is one of the +pleasantest fellows and, I do not doubt, one of the most agreeable +societies in London." + +He partook of some champagne, which he found excellent; and +observing that many of the company were already smoking, he lit one +of his own Manillas, and strolled up to the roulette board, where +he sometimes made a stake and sometimes looked on smilingly on the +fortune of others. It was while he was thus idling that he became +aware of a sharp scrutiny to which the whole of the guests were +subjected. Mr. Morris went here and there, ostensibly busied on +hospitable concerns; but he had ever a shrewd glance at disposal; +not a man of the party escaped his sudden, searching looks; he took +stock of the bearing of heavy losers, he valued the amount of the +stakes, he paused behind couples who were deep in conversation; +and, in a word, there was hardly a characteristic of any one +present but he seemed to catch and make a note of it. Brackenbury +began to wonder if this were indeed a gambling hell: it had so +much the air of a private inquisition. He followed Mr. Morris in +all his movements; and although the man had a ready smile, he +seemed to perceive, as it were under a mask, a haggard, careworn, +and preoccupied spirit. The fellows around him laughed and made +their game; but Brackenbury had lost interest in the guests. + +"This Morris," thought he, "is no idler in the room. Some deep +purpose inspires him; let it be mine to fathom it." + +Now and then Mr. Morris would call one of his visitors aside; and +after a brief colloquy in an ante-room, he would return alone, and +the visitors in question reappeared no more. After a certain +number of repetitions, this performance excited Brackenbury's +curiosity to a high degree. He determined to be at the bottom of +this minor mystery at once; and strolling into the ante-room, found +a deep window recess concealed by curtains of the fashionable +green. Here he hurriedly ensconced himself; nor had he to wait +long before the sound of steps and voices drew near him from the +principal apartment. Peering through the division, he saw Mr. +Morris escorting a fat and ruddy personage, with somewhat the look +of a commercial traveller, whom Brackenbury had already remarked +for his coarse laugh and under-bred behaviour at the table. The +pair halted immediately before the window, so that Brackenbury lost +not a word of the following discourse:- + +"I beg you a thousand pardons!" began Mr. Morris, with the most +conciliatory manner; "and, if I appear rude, I am sure you will +readily forgive me. In a place so great as London accidents must +continually happen; and the best that we can hope is to remedy them +with as small delay as possible. I will not deny that I fear you +have made a mistake and honoured my poor house by inadvertence; +for, to speak openly, I cannot at all remember your appearance. +Let me put the question without unnecessary circumlocution - +between gentlemen of honour a word will suffice - Under whose roof +do you suppose yourself to be?" + +"That of Mr. Morris," replied the other, with a prodigious display +of confusion, which had been visibly growing upon him throughout +the last few words. + +"Mr. John or Mr. James Morris?" inquired the host. + +"I really cannot tell you," returned the unfortunate guest. "I am +not personally acquainted with the gentleman, any more than I am +with yourself." + +"I see," said Mr. Morris. "There is another person of the same +name farther down the street; and I have no doubt the policeman +will be able to supply you with his number. Believe me, I +felicitate myself on the misunderstanding which has procured me the +pleasure of your company for so long; and let me express a hope +that we may meet again upon a more regular footing. Meantime, I +would not for the world detain you longer from your friends. +John," he added, raising his voice, "will you see that this +gentleman finds his great-coat?" + +And with the most agreeable air Mr. Morris escorted his visitor as +far as the ante-room door, where he left him under conduct of the +butler. As he passed the window, on his return to the drawing- +room, Brackenbury could hear him utter a profound sigh, as though +his mind was loaded with a great anxiety, and his nerves already +fatigued with the task on which he was engaged. + +For perhaps an hour the hansoms kept arriving with such frequency, +that Mr. Morris had to receive a new guest for every old one that +he sent away, and the company preserved its number undiminished. +But towards the end of that time the arrivals grew few and far +between, and at length ceased entirely, while the process of +elimination was continued with unimpaired activity. The drawing- +room began to look empty: the baccarat was discontinued for lack +of a banker; more than one person said good-night of his own +accord, and was suffered to depart without expostulation; and in +the meanwhile Mr. Morris redoubled in agreeable attentions to those +who stayed behind. He went from group to group and from person to +person with looks of the readiest sympathy and the most pertinent +and pleasing talk; he was not so much like a host as like a +hostess, and there was a feminine coquetry and condescension in his +manner which charmed the hearts of all. + +As the guests grew thinner, Lieutenant Rich strolled for a moment +out of the drawing-room into the hall in quest of fresher air. But +he had no sooner passed the threshold of the ante-chamber than he +was brought to a dead halt by a discovery of the most surprising +nature. The flowering shrubs had disappeared from the staircase; +three large furniture waggons stood before the garden gate; the +servants were busy dismantling the house upon all sides; and some +of them had already donned their great-coats and were preparing to +depart. It was like the end of a country ball, where everything +has been supplied by contract. Brackenbury had indeed some matter +for reflection. First, the guests, who were no real guests after +all, had been dismissed; and now the servants, who could hardly be +genuine servants, were actively dispersing. + +'"Was the whole establishment a sham?" he asked himself. "The +mushroom of a single night which should disappear before morning?" + +Watching a favourable opportunity, Brackenbury dashed upstairs to +the highest regions of the house. It was as he had expected. He +ran from room to room, and saw not a stick of furniture nor so much +as a picture on the walls. Although the house had been painted and +papered, it was not only uninhabited at present, but plainly had +never been inhabited at all. The young officer remembered with +astonishment its specious, settled, and hospitable air on his +arrival + +It was only at a prodigious cost that the imposture could have been +carried out upon so great a scale. + +Who, then, was Mr. Morris? What was his intention in thus playing +the householder for a single night in the remote west of London? +And why did he collect his visitors at hazard from the streets? + +Brackenbury remembered that he had already delayed too long, and +hastened to join the company. Many had left during his absence; +and counting the Lieutenant and his host, there were not more than +five persons in the drawing-room - recently so thronged. Mr. +Morris greeted him, as he re-entered the apartment, with a smile, +and immediately rose to his feet. + +"It is now time, gentlemen," said he, "to explain my purpose in +decoying you from your amusements. I trust you did not find the +evening hang very dully on your hands; but my object, I will +confess it, was not to entertain your leisure, but to help myself +in an unfortunate necessity. You are all gentlemen," he continued, +"your appearance does you that much justice, and I ask for no +better security. Hence, I speak it without concealment, I ask you +to render me a dangerous and delicate service; dangerous because +you may run the hazard of your lives, and delicate because I must +ask an absolute discretion upon all that you shall see or hear. +From an utter stranger the request is almost comically extravagant; +I am well aware of this; and I would add at once, if there be any +one present who has heard enough, if there be one among the party +who recoils from a dangerous confidence and a piece of Quixotic +devotion to he knows not whom - here is my hand ready, and I shall +wish him good-night and God-speed with all the sincerity in the +world." + +A very tall, black man, with a heavy stoop, immediately responded +to this appeal. + +"I commend your frankness, Sir," said he; "and, for my part, I go. +I make no reflections; but I cannot deny that you fill me with +suspicious thoughts. I go myself, as I say; and perhaps you will +think I have no right to add words to my example." + +"On the contrary," replied Mr. Morris, "I am obliged to you for all +you say. It would be impossible to exaggerate the gravity of my +proposal." + +"Well, gentlemen, what do you say?" said the tall man, addressing +the others. "We have had our evening's frolic; shall we all go +homeward peaceably in a body? You will think well of my suggestion +in the morning, when you see the sun again in innocence and +safety." + +The speaker pronounced the last words with an intonation which +added to their force; and his face wore a singular expression, full +of gravity and significance. Another of the company rose hastily, +and, with some appearance of alarm, prepared to take his leave. +There were only two who held their ground, Brackenbury and an old +red-nosed cavalry Major; but these two preserved a nonchalant +demeanour, and, beyond a look of intelligence which they rapidly +exchanged, appeared entirely foreign to the discussion that had +just been terminated. + +Mr. Morris conducted the deserters as far as the door, which he +closed upon their heels; then he turned round, disclosing a +countenance of mingled relief and animation, and addressed the two +officers as follows. + +"I have chosen my men like Joshua in the Bible," said Mr. Morris, +"and I now believe I have the pick of London. Your appearance +pleased my hansom cabmen; then it delighted me; I have watched your +behaviour in a strange company, and under the most unusual +circumstances: I have studied how you played and how you bore your +losses; lastly, I have put you to the test of a staggering +announcement, and you received it like an invitation to dinner. It +is not for nothing," he cried, "that I have been for years the +companion and the pupil of the bravest and wisest potentate in +Europe." + +"At the affair of Bunderchang," observed the Major, "I asked for +twelve volunteers, and every trooper in the ranks replied to my +appeal. But a gaming party is not the same thing as a regiment +under fire. You may be pleased, I suppose, to have found two, and +two who will not fail you at a push. As for the pair who ran away, +I count them among the most pitiful hounds I ever met with. +Lieutenant Rich," he added, addressing Brackenbury, "I have heard +much of you of late; and I cannot doubt but you have also heard of +me. I am Major O'Rooke." + +And the veteran tendered his hand, which was red and tremulous, to +the young Lieutenant. + +"Who has not?" answered Brackenbury. + +"When this little matter is settled," said Mr. Morris, "you will +think I have sufficiently rewarded you; for I could offer neither a +more valuable service than to make him acquainted with the other." + +"And now," said Major O'Rooke, "is it a duel?" + +"A duel after a fashion," replied Mr. Morris, "a duel with unknown +and dangerous enemies, and, as I gravely fear, a duel to the death. +I must ask you," he continued, "to call me Morris no longer; call +me, if you please, Hammersmith; my real name, as well as that of +another person to whom I hope to present you before long, you will +gratify me by not asking and not seeking to discover for +yourselves. Three days ago the person of whom I speak disappeared +suddenly from home; and, until this morning, I received no hint of +his situation. You will fancy my alarm when I tell you that he is +engaged upon a work of private justice. Bound by an unhappy oath, +too lightly sworn, he finds it necessary, without the help of law, +to rid the earth of an insidious and bloody villain. Already two +of our friends, and one of them my own born brother, have perished +in the enterprise. He himself, or I am much deceived, is taken in +the same fatal toils. But at least he still lives and still hopes, +as this billet sufficiently proves." + +And the speaker, no other than Colonel Geraldine, proffered a +letter, thus conceived:- + + +"Major Hammersmith, - On Wednesday, at 3 A.M., you will be admitted +by the small door to the gardens of Rochester House, Regent's Park, +by a man who is entirely in my interest. I must request you not to +fail me by a second. Pray bring my case of swords, and, if you can +find them, one or two gentlemen of conduct and discretion to whom +my person is unknown. My name must not be used in this affair. + +T. GODALL." + + +"From his wisdom alone, if he had no other title," pursued Colonel +Geraldine, when the others had each satisfied his curiosity, "my +friend is a man whose directions should implicitly be followed. I +need not tell you, therefore, that I have not so much as visited +the neighbourhood of Rochester House; and that I am still as wholly +in the dark as either of yourselves as to the nature of my friend's +dilemma. I betook myself, as soon as I had received this order, to +a furnishing contractor, and, in a few hours, the house in which we +now are had assumed its late air of festival. My scheme was at +least original; and I am far from regretting an action which has +procured me the services of Major O'Rooke and Lieutenant +Brackenbury Rich. But the servants in the street will have a +strange awakening. The house which this evening was full of lights +and visitors they will find uninhabited and for sale to-morrow +morning. Thus even the most serious concerns," added the Colonel, +"have a merry side." + +"And let us add a merry ending," said Brackenbury. + +The Colonel consulted his watch. + +"It is now hard on two," he said. "We have an hour before us, and +a swift cab is at the door. Tell me if I may count upon your +help." + +"During a long life," replied Major O'Rooke, "I never took back my +hand from anything, nor so much as hedged a bet." + +Brackenbury signified his readiness in the most becoming terms; and +after they had drunk a glass or two of wine, the Colonel gave each +of them a loaded revolver, and the three mounted into the cab and +drove off for the address in question. + +Rochester House was a magnificent residence on the banks of the +canal. The large extent of the garden isolated it in an unusual +degree from the annoyances of neighbourhood. It seemed the PARC +AUX CERFS of some great nobleman or millionaire. As far as could +be seen from the street, there was not a glimmer of light in any of +the numerous windows of the mansion; and the place had a look of +neglect, as though the master had been long from home. + +The cab was discharged, and the three gentlemen were not long in +discovering the small door, which was a sort of postern in a lane +between two garden walls. It still wanted ten or fifteen minutes +of the appointed time; the rain fell heavily, and the adventurers +sheltered themselves below some pendant ivy, and spoke in low tones +of the approaching trial. + +Suddenly Geraldine raised his finger to command silence, and all +three bent their hearing to the utmost. Through the continuous +noise of the rain, the steps and voices of two men became audible +from the other side of the wall; and, as they drew nearer, +Brackenbury, whose sense of hearing was remarkably acute, could +even distinguish some fragments of their talk. + +"Is the grave dug?" asked one. + +"It is," replied the other; "behind the laurel hedge. When the job +is done, we can cover it with a pile of stakes." + +The first speaker laughed, and the sound of his merriment was +shocking to the listeners on the other side. + +"In an hour from now," he said. + +And by the sound of the steps it was obvious that the pair had +separated, and were proceeding in contrary directions. + +Almost immediately after the postern door was cautiously opened, a +white face was protruded into the lane, and a hand was seen +beckoning to the watchers. In dead silence the three passed the +door, which was immediately locked behind them, and followed their +guide through several garden alleys to the kitchen entrance of the +house. A single candle burned in the great paved kitchen, which +was destitute of the customary furniture; and as the party +proceeded to ascend from thence by a flight of winding stairs, a +prodigious noise of rats testified still more plainly to the +dilapidation of the house. + +Their conductor preceded them, carrying the candle. He was a lean +man, much bent, but still agile; and he turned from time to time +and admonished silence and caution by his gestures. Colonel +Geraldine followed on his heels, the case of swords under one arm, +and a pistol ready in the other. Brackenbury's heart beat thickly. +He perceived that they were still in time; but he judged from the +alacrity of the old man that the hour of action must be near at +hand; and the circumstances of this adventure were so obscure and +menacing, the place seemed so well chosen for the darkest acts, +that an older man than Brackenbury might have been pardoned a +measure of emotion as he closed the procession up the winding +stair. + +At the top the guide threw open a door and ushered the three +officers before him into a small apartment, lighted by a smoky lamp +and the glow of a modest fire. At the chimney corner sat a man in +the early prime of life, and of a stout but courtly and commanding +appearance. His attitude and expression were those of the most +unmoved composure; he was smoking a cheroot with much enjoyment and +deliberation, and on a table by his elbow stood a long glass of +some effervescing beverage which diffused an agreeable odour +through the room. + +"Welcome," said he, extending his hand to Colonel Geraldine. "I +knew I might count on your exactitude." + +"On my devotion," replied the Colonel, with a bow. + +"Present me to your friends," continued the first; and, when that +ceremony had been performed, "I wish, gentlemen," he added, with +the most exquisite affability, "that I could offer you a more +cheerful programme; it is ungracious to inaugurate an acquaintance +upon serious affairs; but the compulsion of events is stronger than +the obligations of good-fellowship. I hope and believe you will be +able to forgive me this unpleasant evening; and for men of your +stamp it will be enough to know that you are conferring a +considerable favour." + +"Your Highness," said the Major, "must pardon my bluntness. I am +unable to hide what I know. For some time back I have suspected +Major Hammersmith, but Mr. Godall is unmistakable. To seek two men +in London unacquainted with Prince Florizel of Bohemia was to ask +too much at Fortune's hands." + +"Prince Florizel!" cried Brackenbury in amazement. + +And he gazed with the deepest interest on the features of the +celebrated personage before him. + +"I shall not lament the loss of my incognito," remarked the Prince, +"for it enables me to thank you with the more authority. You would +have done as much for Mr. Godall, I feel sure, as for the Prince of +Bohemia; but the latter can perhaps do more for you. The gain is +mine," he added, with a courteous gesture. + +And the next moment he was conversing with the two officers about +the Indian army and the native troops, a subject on which, as on +all others, he had a remarkable fund of information and the +soundest views. + +There was something so striking in this man's attitude at a moment +of deadly peril that Brackenbury was overcome with respectful +admiration; nor was he less sensible to the charm of his +conversation or the surprising amenity of his address. Every +gesture, every intonation, was not only noble in itself, but seemed +to ennoble the fortunate mortal for whom it was intended; and +Brackenbury confessed to himself with enthusiasm that this was a +sovereign for whom a brave man might thankfully lay down his life. + +Many minutes had thus passed, when the person who had introduced +them into the house, and who had sat ever since in a corner, and +with his watch in his hand, arose and whispered a word into the +Prince's ear. + +"It is well, Dr. Noel," replied Florizel, aloud; and then +addressing the others, "You will excuse me, gentlemen," he added, +"if I have to leave you in the dark. The moment now approaches." + +Dr. Noel extinguished the lamp. A faint, grey light, premonitory +of the dawn, illuminated the window, but was not sufficient to +illuminate the room; and when the Prince rose to his feet, it was +impossible to distinguish his features or to make a guess at the +nature of the emotion which obviously affected him as he spoke. He +moved towards the door, and placed himself at one side of it in an +attitude of the wariest attention. + +"You will have the kindness," he said, "to maintain the strictest +silence, and to conceal yourselves in the densest of the shadow." + +The three officers and the physician hastened to obey, and for +nearly ten minutes the only sound in Rochester House was occasioned +by the excursions of the rats behind the woodwork. At the end of +that period, a loud creak of a hinge broke in with surprising +distinctness on the silence; and shortly after, the watchers could +distinguish a slow and cautious tread approaching up the kitchen +stair. At every second step the intruder seemed to pause and lend +an ear, and during these intervals, which seemed of an incalculable +duration, a profound disquiet possessed the spirit of the +listeners. Dr. Noel, accustomed as he was to dangerous emotions, +suffered an almost pitiful physical prostration; his breath +whistled in his lungs, his teeth grated one upon another, and his +joints cracked aloud as he nervously shifted his position. + +At last a hand was laid upon the door, and the bolt shot back with +a slight report. There followed another pause, during which +Brackenbury could see the Prince draw himself together noiselessly +as if for some unusual exertion. Then the door opened, letting in +a little more of the light of the morning; and the figure of a man +appeared upon the threshold and stood motionless. He was tall, and +carried a knife in his hand. Even in the twilight they could see +his upper teeth bare and glistening, for his mouth was open like +that of a hound about to leap. The man had evidently been over the +head in water but a minute or two before; and even while he stood +there the drops kept falling from his wet clothes and pattered on +the floor. + +The next moment he crossed the threshold. There was a leap, a +stifled cry, an instantaneous struggle; and before Colonel +Geraldine could spring to his aid, the Prince held the man disarmed +and helpless, by the shoulders + +"Dr. Noel," he said, "you will be so good as to re-light the lamp." + +And relinquishing the charge of his prisoner to Geraldine and +Brackenbury, he crossed the room and set his back against the +chimney-piece. As soon as the lamp had kindled, the party beheld +an unaccustomed sternness on the Prince's features. It was no +longer Florizel, the careless gentleman; it was the Prince of +Bohemia, justly incensed and full of deadly purpose, who now raised +his head and addressed the captive President of the Suicide Club. + +"President," he said, "you have laid your last snare, and your own +feet are taken in it. The day is beginning; it is your last +morning. You have just swum the Regent's Canal; it is your last +bathe in this world. Your old accomplice, Dr. Noel, so far from +betraying me, has delivered you into my hands for judgment. And +the grave you had dug for me this afternoon shall serve, in God's +almighty providence, to hide your own just doom from the curiosity +of mankind. Kneel and pray, sir, if you have a mind that way; for +your time is short, and God is weary of your iniquities." + +The President made no answer either by word or sign; but continued +to hang his head and gaze sullenly on the floor, as though he were +conscious of the Prince's prolonged and unsparing regard. + +"Gentlemen," continued Florizel, resuming the ordinary tone of his +conversation, "this is a fellow who has long eluded me, but whom, +thanks to Dr. Noel, I now have tightly by the heels. To tell the +story of his misdeeds would occupy more time than we can now +afford; but if the canal had contained nothing but the blood of his +victims, I believe the wretch would have been no drier than you see +him. Even in an affair of this sort I desire to preserve the forms +of honour. But I make you the judges, gentlemen - this is more an +execution than a duel and to give the rogue his choice of weapons +would be to push too far a point of etiquette. I cannot afford to +lose my life in such a business," he continued, unlocking the case +of swords; "and as a pistol-bullet travels so often on the wings of +chance, and skill and courage may fall by the most trembling +marksman, I have decided, and I feel sure you will approve my +determination, to put this question to the touch of swords." + +When Brackenbury and Major O'Rooke, to whom these remarks were +particularly addressed, had each intimated his approval, "Quick, +sir," added Prince Florizel to the President, "choose a blade and +do not keep me waiting; I have an impatience to be done with you +for ever." + +For the first time since he was captured and disarmed the President +raised his head, and it was plain that he began instantly to pluck +up courage. + +"Is it to be stand up?" he asked eagerly, "and between you and me?" + +"I mean so far to honour you," replied the Prince. + +"Oh, come!" cried the President. "With a fair field, who knows how +things may happen? I must add that I consider it handsome +behaviour on your Highness's part; and if the worst comes to the +worst I shall die by one of the most gallant gentlemen in Europe." + +And the President, liberated by those who had detained him, stepped +up to the table and began, with minute attention, to select a +sword. He was highly elated, and seemed to feel no doubt that he +should issue victorious from the contest. The spectators grew +alarmed in the face of so entire a confidence, and adjured Prince +Florizel to reconsider his intention. + +"It is but a farce," he answered; "and I think I can promise you, +gentlemen, that it will not be long a-playing." + +"Your Highness will be careful not to over-reach," said Colonel +Geraldine. + +"Geraldine," returned the Prince, "did you ever know me fail in a +debt of honour? I owe you this man's death, and you shall have +it." + +The President at last satisfied himself with one of the rapiers, +and signified his readiness by a gesture that was not devoid of a +rude nobility. The nearness of peril, and the sense of courage, +even to this obnoxious villain, lent an air of manhood and a +certain grace. + +The Prince helped himself at random to a sword. + +"Colonel Geraldine and Doctor Noel," he said, "will have the +goodness to await me in this room. I wish no personal friend of +mine to be involved in this transaction. Major O'Rooke, you are a +man of some years and a settled reputation - let me recommend the +President to your good graces. Lieutenant Rich will be so good as +lend me his attentions: a young man cannot have too much +experience in such affairs." + +"Your Highness," replied Brackenbury, "it is an honour I shall +prize extremely." + +"It is well," returned Prince Florizel; "I shall hope to stand your +friend in more important circumstances." + +And so saying he led the way out of the apartment and down the +kitchen stairs. + +The two men who were thus left alone threw open the window and +leaned out, straining every sense to catch an indication of the +tragical events that were about to follow. The rain was now over; +day had almost come, and the birds were piping in the shrubbery and +on the forest trees of the garden. The Prince and his companions +were visible for a moment as they followed an alley between two +flowering thickets; but at the first corner a clump of foliage +intervened, and they were again concealed from view. This was all +that the Colonel and the Physician had an opportunity to see, and +the garden was so vast, and the place of combat evidently so remote +from the house, that not even the noise of sword-play reached their +ears. + +"He has taken him towards the grave," said Dr. Noel, with a +shudder. + +"God," cried the Colonel, "God defend the right!" + +And they awaited the event in silence, the Doctor shaking with +fear, the Colonel in an agony of sweat. Many minutes must have +elapsed, the day was sensibly broader, and the birds were singing +more heartily in the garden before a sound of returning footsteps +recalled their glances towards the door. It was the Prince and the +two Indian officers who entered. God had defended the right. + +"I am ashamed of my emotion," said Prince Florizel; "I feel it is a +weakness unworthy of my station, but the continued existence of +that hound of hell had begun to prey upon me like a disease, and +his death has more refreshed me than a night of slumber. Look, +Geraldine," he continued, throwing his sword upon the floor, "there +is the blood of the man who killed your brother. It should be a +welcome sight. And yet," he added, "see how strangely we men are +made! my revenge is not yet five minutes old, and already I am +beginning to ask myself if even revenge be attainable on this +precarious stage of life. The ill he did, who can undo it? The +career in which he amassed a huge fortune (for the house itself in +which we stand belonged to him) - that career is now a part of the +destiny of mankind for ever; and I might weary myself making +thrusts in carte until the crack of judgment, and Geraldine's +brother would be none the less dead, and a thousand other innocent +persons would be none the less dishonoured and debauched! The +existence of a man is so small a thing to take, so mighty a thing +to employ! Alas!" he cried, "is there anything in life so +disenchanting as attainment?" + +"God's justice has been done," replied the Doctor. "So much I +behold. The lesson, your Highness, has been a cruel one for me; +and I await my own turn with deadly apprehension." + +"What was I saying?" cried the Prince. "I have punished, and here +is the man beside us who can help me to undo. Ah, Dr. Noel! you +and I have before us many a day of hard and honourable toil; and +perhaps, before we have none, you may have more than redeemed your +early errors." + +"And in the meantime," said the Doctor, "let me go and bury my +oldest friend." + +(And this, observes the erudite Arabian, is the fortunate +conclusion of the tale. The Prince, it is superfluous to mention, +forgot none of those who served him in this great exploit; and to +this day his authority and influence help them forward in their +public career, while his condescending friendship adds a charm to +their private life. To collect, continues my author, all the +strange events in which this Prince has played the part of +Providence were to fill the habitable globe with books. But the +stories which relate to the fortunes of THE RAJAH'S DIAMOND are of +too entertaining a description, says he, to be omitted. Following +prudently in the footsteps of this Oriental, we shall now begin the +series to which he refers with the STORY OF THE BANDBOX.) + + + + +THE RAJAH'S DIAMOND + + + + +STORY OF THE BANDBOX + + + +UP to the age of sixteen, at a private school and afterwards at one +of those great institutions for which England is justly famous, Mr. +Harry Hartley had received the ordinary education of a gentleman. +At that period, he manifested a remarkable distaste for study; and +his only surviving parent being both weak and ignorant, he was +permitted thenceforward to spend his time in the attainment of +petty and purely elegant accomplishments. Two years later, he was +left an orphan and almost a beggar. For all active and industrious +pursuits, Harry was unfitted alike by nature and training. He +could sing romantic ditties, and accompany himself with discretion +on the piano; he was a graceful although a timid cavalier; he had a +pronounced taste for chess; and nature had sent him into the world +with one of the most engaging exteriors that can well be fancied. +Blond and pink, with dove's eyes and a gentle smile, he had an air +of agreeable tenderness and melancholy, and the most submissive and +caressing manners. But when all is said, he was not the man to +lead armaments of war, or direct the councils of a State. + +A fortunate chance and some influence obtained for Harry, at the +time of his bereavement, the position of private secretary to +Major-General Sir Thomas Vandeleur, C.B. Sir Thomas was a man of +sixty, loud-spoken, boisterous, and domineering. For some reason, +some service the nature of which had been often whispered and +repeatedly denied, the Rajah of Kashgar had presented this officer +with the sixth known diamond of the world. The gift transformed +General Vandeleur from a poor into a wealthy man, from an obscure +and unpopular soldier into one of the lions of London society; the +possessor of the Rajah's Diamond was welcome in the most exclusive +circles; and he had found a lady, young, beautiful, and well-born, +who was willing to call the diamond hers even at the price of +marriage with Sir Thomas Vandeleur. It was commonly said at the +time that, as like draws to like, one jewel had attracted another; +certainly Lady Vandeleur was not only a gem of the finest water in +her own person, but she showed herself to the world in a very +costly setting; and she was considered by many respectable +authorities, as one among the three or four best dressed women in +England. + +Harry's duty as secretary was not particularly onerous; but he had +a dislike for all prolonged work; it gave him pain to ink his +lingers; and the charms of Lady Vandeleur and her toilettes drew +him often from the library to the boudoir. He had the prettiest +ways among women, could talk fashions with enjoyment, and was never +more happy than when criticising a shade of ribbon, or running on +an errand to the milliner's. In short, Sir Thomas's correspondence +fell into pitiful arrears, and my Lady had another lady's maid. + +At last the General, who was one of the least patient of military +commanders, arose from his place in a violent access of passion, +and indicated to his secretary that he had no further need for his +services, with one of those explanatory gestures which are most +rarely employed between gentlemen. The door being unfortunately +open, Mr. Hartley fell downstairs head foremost. + +He arose somewhat hurt and very deeply aggrieved. The life in the +General's house precisely suited him; he moved, on a more or less +doubtful footing, in very genteel company, he did little, he ate of +the best, and he had a lukewarm satisfaction in the presence of +Lady Vandeleur, which, in his own heart, he dubbed by a more +emphatic name. + +Immediately after he had been outraged by the military foot, he +hurried to the boudoir and recounted his sorrows. + +"You know very well, my dear Harry," replied Lady Vandeleur, for +she called him by name like a child or a domestic servant, "that +you never by any chance do what the General tells you. No more do +I, you may say. But that is different. A woman can earn her +pardon for a good year of disobedience by a single adroit +submission; and, besides, no one is married to his private +secretary. I shall be sorry to lose you; but since you cannot stay +longer in a house where you have been insulted, I shall wish you +good-bye, and I promise you to make the General smart for his +behaviour." + +Harry's countenance fell; tears came into his eyes, and he gazed on +Lady Vandeleur with a tender reproach. + +"My Lady," said he, "what is an insult? I should think little +indeed of any one who could not forgive them by the score. But to +leave one's friends; to tear up the bonds of affection - " + +He was unable to continue, for his emotion choked him, and he began +to weep. + +Lady Vandeleur looked at him with a curious expression. "This +little fool," she thought, "imagines himself to be in love with me. +Why should he not become my servant instead of the General's? He +is good-natured, obliging, and understands dress; and besides it +will keep him out of mischief. He is positively too pretty to be +unattached." That night she talked over the General, who was +already somewhat ashamed of his vivacity; and Harry was transferred +to the feminine department, where his life was little short of +heavenly. He was always dressed with uncommon nicety, wore +delicate flowers in his button-hole, and could entertain a visitor +with tact and pleasantry. He took a pride in servility to a +beautiful woman; received Lady Vandeleur's commands as so many +marks of favour; and was pleased to exhibit himself before other +men, who derided and despised him, in his character of male lady's- +maid and man milliner. Nor could he think enough of his existence +from a moral point of view. Wickedness seemed to him an +essentially male attribute, and to pass one's days with a delicate +woman, and principally occupied about trimmings, was to inhabit an +enchanted isle among the storms of life. + +One fine morning he came into the drawing-room and began to arrange +some music on the top of the piano. Lady Vandeleur, at the other +end of the apartment, was speaking somewhat eagerly with her +brother, Charlie Pendragon, an elderly young man, much broken with +dissipation, and very lame of one foot. The private secretary, to +whose entrance they paid no regard, could not avoid overhearing a +part of their conversation. + +"To-day or never," said the lady. "Once and for all, it shall be +done to-day." + +"To-day, if it must be," replied the brother, with a sigh. "But it +is a false step, a ruinous step, Clara; and we shall live to repent +it dismally." + +Lady Vandeleur looked her brother steadily and somewhat strangely +in the face. + +"You forget," she said; "the man must die at last." + +"Upon my word, Clara," said Pendragon, "I believe you are the most +heartless rascal in England." + +"You men," she returned, "are so coarsely built, that you can never +appreciate a shade of meaning. You are yourselves rapacious, +violent, immodest, careless of distinction; and yet the least +thought for the future shocks you in a woman. I have no patience +with such stuff. You would despise in a common banker the +imbecility that you expect to find in us." + +"You are very likely right," replied her brother; "you were always +cleverer than I. And, anyway, you know my motto: The family +before all." + +"Yes, Charlie," she returned, taking his hand in hers, "I know your +motto better than you know it yourself. 'And Clara before the +family!' Is not that the second part of it? Indeed, you are the +best of brothers, and I love you dearly." + +Mr. Pendragon got up, looking a little confused by these family +endearments. + +"I had better not be seen," said he. "I understand my part to a +miracle, and I'll keep an eye on the Tame Cat." + +"Do," she replied. "He is an abject creature, and might ruin all." + +She kissed the tips of her fingers to him daintily; and the brother +withdrew by the boudoir and the back stair. + +"Harry," said Lady Vandeleur, turning towards the secretary as soon +as they were alone, "I have a commission for you this morning. But +you shall take a cab; I cannot have my secretary freckled." + +She spoke the last words with emphasis and a look of half-motherly +pride that caused great contentment to poor Harry; and he professed +himself charmed to find an opportunity of serving her. + +"It is another of our great secrets," she went on archly, "and no +one must know of it but my secretary and me. Sir Thomas would make +the saddest disturbance; and if you only knew how weary I am of +these scenes! Oh, Harry, Harry, can you explain to me what makes +you men so violent and unjust? But, indeed, I know you cannot; you +are the only man in the world who knows nothing of these shameful +passions; you are so good, Harry, and so kind; you, at least, can +be a woman's friend; and, do you know? I think you make the others +more ugly by comparison." + +"It is you," said Harry gallantly, "who are so kind to me. You +treat me like - " + +"Like a mother," interposed Lady Vandeleur; "I try to be a mother +to you. Or, at least," she corrected herself with a smile, "almost +a mother. I am afraid I am too young to be your mother really. +Let us say a friend - a dear friend." + +She paused long enough to let her words take effect in Harry's +sentimental quarters, but not long enough to allow him a reply. + +"But all this is beside our purpose," she resumed. "You will find +a bandbox in the left-hand side of the oak wardrobe; it is +underneath the pink slip that I wore on Wednesday with my Mechlin. +You will take it immediately to this address," and she gave him a +paper, "but do not, on any account, let it out of your hands until +you have received a receipt written by myself. Do you understand? +Answer, if you please - answer! This is extremely important, and I +must ask you to pay some attention." + +Harry pacified her by repeating her instructions perfectly; and she +was just going to tell him more when General Vandeleur flung into +the apartment, scarlet with anger, and holding a long and elaborate +milliner's bill in his hand. + +"Will you look at this, madam?" cried he. "Will you have the +goodness to look at this document? I know well enough you married +me for my money, and I hope I can make as great allowances as any +other man in the service; but, as sure as God made me, I mean to +put a period to this disreputable prodigality." + +"Mr. Hartley," said Lady Vandeleur, "I think you understand what +you have to do. May I ask you to see to it at once?" + +"Stop," said the General, addressing Harry, "one word before you +go." And then, turning again to Lady Vandeleur, "What is this +precious fellow's errand?" he demanded. "I trust him no further +than I do yourself, let me tell you. If he had as much as the +rudiments of honesty, he would scorn to stay in this house; and +what he does for his wages is a mystery to all the world. What is +his errand, madam? and why are you hurrying him away?" + +"I supposed you had something to say to me in private," replied the +lady. + +"You spoke about an errand," insisted the General. "Do not attempt +to deceive me in my present state of temper. You certainly spoke +about an errand." + +"If you insist on making your servants privy to our humiliating +dissensions," replied Lady Vandeleur, "perhaps I had better ask Mr. +Hartley to sit down. No?" she continued; "then you may go, Mr. +Hartley. I trust you may remember all that you have heard in this +room; it may be useful to you." + +Harry at once made his escape from the drawing-room; and as he ran +upstairs he could hear the General's voice upraised in declamation, +and the thin tones of Lady Vandeleur planting icy repartees at +every opening. How cordially he admired the wife! How skilfully +she could evade an awkward question! with what secure effrontery +she repeated her instructions under the very guns of the enemy! and +on the other hand, how he detested the husband! + +There had been nothing unfamiliar in the morning's events, for he +was continually in the habit of serving Lady Vandeleur on secret +missions, principally connected with millinery. There was a +skeleton in the house, as he well knew. The bottomless +extravagance and the unknown liabilities of the wife had long since +swallowed her own fortune, and threatened day by day to engulph +that of the husband. Once or twice in every year exposure and ruin +seemed imminent, and Harry kept trotting round to all sorts of +furnishers' shops, telling small fibs, and paying small advances on +the gross amount, until another term was tided over, and the lady +and her faithful secretary breathed again. For Harry, in a double +capacity, was heart and soul upon that side of the war: not only +did he adore Lady Vandeleur and fear and dislike her husband, but +he naturally sympathised with the love of finery, and his own +single extravagance was at the tailor's. + +He found the bandbox where it had been described, arranged his +toilette with care, and left the house. The sun shone brightly; +the distance he had to travel was considerable, and he remembered +with dismay that the General's sudden irruption had prevented Lady +Vandeleur from giving him money for a cab. On this sultry day +there was every chance that his complexion would suffer severely; +and to walk through so much of London with a bandbox on his arm was +a humiliation almost insupportable to a youth of his character. He +paused, and took counsel with himself. The Vandeleurs lived in +Eaton Place; his destination was near Notting Hill; plainly, he +might cross the Park by keeping well in the open and avoiding +populous alleys; and he thanked his stars when he reflected that it +was still comparatively early in the day. + +Anxious to be rid of his incubus, he walked somewhat faster than +his ordinary, and he was already some way through Kensington +Gardens when, in a solitary spot among trees, he found himself +confronted by the General. + +"I beg your pardon, Sir Thomas," observed Harry, politely falling +on one side; for the other stood directly in his path. + +"Where are you going, sir?" asked the General. + +"I am taking a little walk among the trees," replied the lad. + +The General struck the bandbox with his cane. + +"With that thing?" he cried; "you lie, sir, and you know you lie!" + +"Indeed, Sir Thomas," returned Harry, "I am not accustomed to be +questioned in so high a key." + +"You do not understand your position," said the General. "You are +my servant, and a servant of whom I have conceived the most serious +suspicions. How do I know but that your box is full of teaspoons?" + +"It contains a silk hat belonging to a friend," said Harry. + +"Very well," replied General Vandeleur. "Then I want to see your +friend's silk hat. I have," he added grimly, "a singular curiosity +for hats; and I believe you know me to be somewhat positive." + +"I beg your pardon, Sir Thomas, I am exceedingly grieved," Harry +apologised; "but indeed this is a private affair." + +The General caught him roughly by the shoulder with one hand, while +he raised his cane in the most menacing manner with the other. +Harry gave himself up for lost; but at the same moment Heaven +vouchsafed him an unexpected defender in the person of Charlie +Pendragon, who now strode forward from behind the trees. + +"Come, come, General, hold your hand," said he, "this is neither +courteous nor manly." + +"Aha!" cried the General, wheeling round upon his new antagonist, +"Mr. Pendragon! And do you suppose, Mr. Pendragon, that because I +have had the misfortune to marry your sister, I shall suffer myself +to be dogged and thwarted by a discredited and bankrupt libertine +like you? My acquaintance with Lady Vandeleur, sir, has taken away +all my appetite for the other members of her family." + +"And do you fancy, General Vandeleur," retorted Charlie, "that +because my sister has had the misfortune to marry you, she there +and then forfeited her rights and privileges as a lady? I own, +sir, that by that action she did as much as anybody could to +derogate from her position; but to me she is still a Pendragon. I +make it my business to protect her from ungentlemanly outrage, and +if you were ten times her husband I would not permit her liberty to +be restrained, nor her private messengers to be violently +arrested." + +"How is that, Mr. Hartley?" interrogated the General. "Mr. +Pendragon is of my opinion, it appears. He too suspects that Lady +Vandeleur has something to do with your friend's silk hat." + +Charlie saw that he had committed an unpardonable blunder, which he +hastened to repair. + +"How, sir?" he cried; "I suspect, do you say? I suspect nothing. +Only where I find strength abused and a man brutalising his +inferiors, I take the liberty to interfere." + +As he said these words he made a sign to Harry, which the latter +was too dull or too much troubled to understand. + +"In what way am I to construe your attitude, sir?" demanded +Vandeleur. + +"Why, sir, as you please," returned Pendragon. + +The General once more raised his cane, and made a cut for Charlie's +head; but the latter, lame foot and all, evaded the blow with his +umbrella, ran in, and immediately closed with his formidable +adversary. + +"Run, Harry, run!" he cried; "run, you dolt! Harry stood petrified +for a moment, watching the two men sway together in this fierce +embrace; then he turned and took to his heels. When he cast a +glance over his shoulder he saw the General prostrate under +Charlie's knee, but still making desperate efforts to reverse the +situation; and the Gardens seemed to have filled with people, who +were running from all directions towards the scene of fight. This +spectacle lent the secretary wings; and he did not relax his pace +until he had gained the Bayswater road, and plunged at random into +an unfrequented by-street. + +To see two gentlemen of his acquaintance thus brutally mauling each +other was deeply shocking to Harry. He desired to forget the +sight; he desired, above all, to put as great a distance as +possible between himself and General Vandeleur; and in his +eagerness for this he forgot everything about his destination, and +hurried before him headlong and trembling. When he remembered that +Lady Vandeleur was the wife of one and the sister of the other of +these gladiators, his heart was touched with sympathy for a woman +so distressingly misplaced in life. Even his own situation in the +General's household looked hardly so pleasing as usual in the light +of these violent transactions. + +He had walked some little distance, busied with these meditations, +before a slight collision with another passenger reminded him of +the bandbox on his arm. + +"Heavens!" cried he, "where was my head? and whither have I +wandered?" + +Thereupon he consulted the envelope which Lady Vandeleur had given +him. The address was there, but without a name. Harry was simply +directed to ask for "the gentleman who expected a parcel from Lady +Vandeleur," and if he were not at home to await his return. The +gentleman, added the note, should present a receipt in the +handwriting of the lady herself. All this seemed mightily +mysterious, and Harry was above all astonished at the omission of +the name and the formality of the receipt. He had thought little +of this last when he heard it dropped in conversation; but reading +it in cold blood, and taking it in connection with the other +strange particulars, he became convinced that he was engaged in +perilous affairs. For half a moment he had a doubt of Lady +Vandeleur herself; for he found these obscure proceedings somewhat +unworthy of so high a lady, and became more critical when her +secrets were preserved against himself. But her empire over his +spirit was too complete, he dismissed his suspicions, and blamed +himself roundly for having so much as entertained them. + +In one thing, however, his duty and interest, his generosity and +his terrors, coincided - to get rid of the bandbox with the +greatest possible despatch. + +He accosted the first policeman and courteously inquired his way. +It turned out that he was already not far from his destination, and +a walk of a few minutes brought him to a small house in a lane, +freshly painted, and kept with the most scrupulous attention. The +knocker and bell-pull were highly polished; flowering pot-herbs +garnished the sills of the different windows; and curtains of some +rich material concealed the interior from the eyes of curious +passengers. The place had an air of repose and secrecy; and Harry +was so far caught with this spirit that he knocked with more than +usual discretion, and was more than usually careful to remove all +impurity from his boots. + +A servant-maid of some personal attractions immediately opened the +door, and seemed to regard the secretary with no unkind eyes. + +"This is the parcel from Lady Vandeleur," said Harry. + +"I know," replied the maid, with a nod. "But the gentleman is from +home. Will you leave it with me?" + +"I cannot," answered Harry. "I am directed not to part with it but +upon a certain condition, and I must ask you, I am afraid, to let +me wait." + +"Well," said she, "I suppose I may let you wait. I am lonely +enough, I can tell you, and you do not look as though you would eat +a girl. But be sure and do not ask the gentleman's name, for that +I am not to tell you." + +"Do you say so?" cried Harry. "Why, how strange! But indeed for +some time back I walk among surprises. One question I think I may +surely ask without indiscretion: Is he the master of this house?" + +"He is a lodger, and not eight days old at that," returned the +maid. "And now a question for a question: Do you know lady +Vandeleur?" + +"I am her private secretary," replied Harry with a glow of modest +pride. + +"She is pretty, is she not?" pursued the servant. + +"Oh, beautiful!" cried Harry; "wonderfully lovely, and not less +good and kind!" + +"You look kind enough yourself," she retorted; "and I wager you are +worth a dozen Lady Vandeleurs." + +Harry was properly scandalised. + +"I!" he cried. "I am only a secretary!" + +"Do you mean that for me?" said the girl. "Because I am only a +housemaid, if you please." And then, relenting at the sight of +Harry's obvious confusion, "I know you mean nothing of the sort," +she added; "and I like your looks; but I think nothing of your Lady +Vandeleur. Oh, these mistresses!" she cried. "To send out a real +gentleman like you - with a bandbox - in broad day!" + +During this talk they had remained in their original positions - +she on the doorstep, he on the side-walk, bareheaded for the sake +of coolness, and with the bandbox on his arm. But upon this last +speech Harry, who was unable to support such point-blank +compliments to his appearance, nor the encouraging look with which +they were accompanied, began to change his attitude, and glance +from left to right in perturbation. In so doing he turned his face +towards the lower end of the lane, and there, to his indescribable +dismay, his eyes encountered those of General Vandeleur. The +General, in a prodigious fluster of heat, hurry, and indignation, +had been scouring the streets in chase of his brother-in-law; but +so soon as he caught a glimpse of the delinquent secretary, his +purpose changed, his anger flowed into a new channel, and he turned +on his heel and came tearing up the lane with truculent gestures +and vociferations. + +Harry made but one bolt of it into the house, driving the maid +before him; and the door was slammed in his pursuer's countenance. + +"Is there a bar? Will it lock?" asked Harry, while a salvo on the +knocker made the house echo from wall to wall. + +"Why, what is wrong with you?" asked the maid. "Is it this old +gentleman?" + +"If he gets hold of me," whispered Harry, "I am as good as dead. +He has been pursuing me all day, carries a sword-stick, and is an +Indian military officer." + +"These are fine manners," cried the maid. "And what, if you +please, may be his name?" + +"It is the General, my master," answered Harry. "He is after this +bandbox." + +"Did not I tell you?" cried the maid in triumph. "I told you I +thought worse than nothing of your Lady Vandeleur; and if you had +an eye in your head you might see what she is for yourself. An +ungrateful minx, I will be bound for that!" + +The General renewed his attack upon the knocker, and his passion +growing with delay, began to kick and beat upon the panels of the +door. + +"It is lucky," observed the girl, "that I am alone in the house; +your General may hammer until he is weary, and there is none to +open for him. Follow me!" + +So saying she led Harry into the kitchen, where she made him sit +down, and stood by him herself in an affectionate attitude, with a +hand upon his shoulder. The din at the door, so far from abating, +continued to increase in volume, and at each blow the unhappy +secretary was shaken to the heart. + +"What is your name?" asked the girl. + +"Harry Hartley," he replied. + +"Mine," she went on, "is Prudence. Do you like it?" + +"Very much," said Harry. "But hear for a moment how the General +beats upon the door. He will certainly break it in, and then, in +heaven's name, what have I to look for but death?" + +"You put yourself very much about with no occasion," answered +Prudence. "Let your General knock, he will do no more than blister +his hands. Do you think I would keep you here if I were not sure +to save you? Oh, no, I am a good friend to those that please me! +and we have a back door upon another lane. But," she added, +checking him, for he had got upon his feet immediately on this +welcome news, "but I will not show where it is unless you kiss me. +Will you, Harry?" + +"That I will," he cried, remembering his gallantry, "not for your +back door, but because you are good and pretty." + +And he administered two or three cordial salutes, which were +returned to him in kind. + +Then Prudence led him to the back gate, and put her hand upon the +key. + +"Will you come and see me?" she asked. + +"I will indeed," said Harry. "Do not I owe you my life?" + +"And now," she added, opening the door, "run as hard as you can, +for I shall let in the General." + +Harry scarcely required this advice; fear had him by the forelock; +and he addressed himself diligently to flight. A few steps, and he +believed he would escape from his trials, and return to Lady +Vandeleur in honour and safety. But these few steps had not been +taken before he heard a man's voice hailing him by name with many +execrations, and, looking over his shoulder, he beheld Charlie +Pendragon waving him with both arms to return. The shock of this +new incident was so sudden and profound, and Harry was already +worked into so high a state of nervous tension, that he could think +of nothing better than to accelerate his pace, and continue +running. He should certainly have remembered the scene in +Kensington Gardens; he should certainly have concluded that, where +the General was his enemy, Charlie Pendragon could be no other than +a friend. But such was the fever and perturbation of his mind that +he was struck by none of these considerations, and only continued +to run the faster up the lane. + +Charlie, by the sound of his voice and the vile terms that he +hurled after the secretary, was obviously beside himself with rage. +He, too, ran his very best; but, try as he might, the physical +advantages were not upon his side, and his outcries and the fall of +his lame foot on the macadam began to fall farther and farther into +the wake. + +Harry's hopes began once more to arise. The lane was both steep +and narrow, but it was exceedingly solitary, bordered on either +hand by garden walls, overhung with foliage; and, for as far as the +fugitive could see in front of him, there was neither a creature +moving nor an open door. Providence, weary of persecution, was now +offering him an open field for his escape. + +Alas! as he came abreast of a garden door under a tuft of +chestnuts, it was suddenly drawn back, and he could see inside, +upon a garden path, the figure of a butcher's boy with his tray +upon his arm. He had hardly recognised the fact before he was some +steps beyond upon the other side. But the fellow had had time to +observe him; he was evidently much surprised to see a gentleman go +by at so unusual a pace; and he came out into the lane and began to +call after Harry with shouts of ironical encouragement. + +His appearance gave a new idea to Charlie Pendragon, who, although +he was now sadly out of breath, once more upraised his voice. + +"Stop, thief!" he cried. + +And immediately the butcher's boy had taken up the cry and joined +in the pursuit. + +This was a bitter moment for the hunted secretary. It is true that +his terror enabled him once more to improve his pace, and gain with +every step on his pursuers; but he was well aware that he was near +the end of his resources, and should he meet any one coming the +other way, his predicament in the narrow lane would be desperate +indeed. + +"I must find a place of concealment," he thought, "and that within +the next few seconds, or all is over with me in this world." + +Scarcely had the thought crossed his mind than the lane took a +sudden turning; and he found himself hidden from his enemies. +There are circumstances in which even the least energetic of +mankind learn to behave with vigour and decision; and the most +cautious forget their prudence and embrace foolhardy resolutions. +This was one of those occasions for Harry Hartley; and those who +knew him best would have been the most astonished at the lad's +audacity. He stopped dead, flung the bandbox over a garden wall, +and leaping upward with incredible agility and seizing the +copestone with his hands, he tumbled headlong after it into the +garden. + +He came to himself a moment afterwards, seated in a border of small +rosebushes. His hands and knees were cut and bleeding, for the +wall had been protected against such an escalade by a liberal +provision of old bottles; and he was conscious of a general +dislocation and a painful swimming in the head. Facing him across +the garden, which was in admirable order, and set with flowers of +the most delicious perfume, he beheld the back of a house. It was +of considerable extent, and plainly habitable; but, in odd contrast +to the grounds, it was crazy, ill-kept, and of a mean appearance. +On all other sides the circuit of the garden wall appeared +unbroken. + +He took in these features of the scene with mechanical glances, but +his mind was still unable to piece together or draw a rational +conclusion from what he saw. And when he heard footsteps advancing +on the gravel, although he turned his eyes in that direction, it +was with no thought either for defence or flight. + +The new-comer was a large, coarse, and very sordid personage, in +gardening clothes, and with a watering-pot in his left hand. One +less confused would have been affected with some alarm at the sight +of this man's huge proportions and black and lowering eyes. But +Harry was too gravely shaken by his fall to be so much as +terrified; and if he was unable to divert his glances from the +gardener, he remained absolutely passive, and suffered him to draw +near, to take him by the shoulder, and to plant him roughly on his +feet, without a motion of resistance. + +For a moment the two stared into each other's eyes, Harry +fascinated, the man filled with wrath and a cruel, sneering humour. + +"Who are you?" he demanded at last. "Who are you to come flying +over my wall and break my GLOIRE DE DIJONS! What is your name?" he +added, shaking him; "and what may be your business here?" + +Harry could not as much as proffer a word in explanation. + +But just at that moment Pendragon and the butcher's boy went +clumping past, and the sound of their feet and their hoarse cries +echoed loudly in the narrow lane. The gardener had received his +answer; and he looked down into Harry's face with an obnoxious +smile. + +"A thief!" he said. "Upon my word, and a very good thing you must +make of it; for I see you dressed like a gentleman from top to toe. +Are you not ashamed to go about the world in such a trim, with +honest folk, I dare say, glad to buy your cast-off finery second +hand? Speak up, you dog," the man went on; "you can understand +English, I suppose; and I mean to have a bit of talk with you +before I march you to the station." + +"Indeed, sir," said Harry, "this is all a dreadful misconception; +and if you will go with me to Sir Thomas Vandeleur's in Eaton +Place, I can promise that all will be made plain. The most upright +person, as I now perceive, can be led into suspicious positions." + +"My little man," replied the gardener, "I will go with you no +farther than the station-house in the next street. The inspector, +no doubt, will be glad to take a stroll with you as far as Eaton +Place, and have a bit of afternoon tea with your great +acquaintances. Or would you prefer to go direct to the Home +Secretary? Sir Thomas Vandeleur, indeed! Perhaps you think I +don't know a gentleman when I see one, from a common run-the-hedge +like you? Clothes or no clothes, I can read you like a book. Here +is a shirt that maybe cost as much as my Sunday hat; and that coat, +I take it, has never seen the inside of Rag-fair, and then your +boots - " + +The man, whose eyes had fallen upon the ground, stopped short in +his insulting commentary, and remained for a moment looking +intently upon something at his feet. When he spoke his voice was +strangely altered. + +"What, in God's name," said he, "is all this?" + +Harry, following the direction of the man's eyes, beheld a +spectacle that struck him dumb with terror and amazement. In his +fall he had descended vertically upon the bandbox and burst it open +from end to end; thence a great treasure of diamonds had poured +forth, and now lay abroad, part trodden in the soil, part scattered +on the surface in regal and glittering profusion. There was a +magnificent coronet which he had often admired on Lady Vandeleur; +there were rings and brooches, ear-drops and bracelets, and even +unset brilliants rolling here and there among the rosebushes like +drops of morning dew. A princely fortune lay between the two men +upon the ground - a fortune in the most inviting, solid, and +durable form, capable of being carried in an apron, beautiful in +itself, and scattering the sunlight in a million rainbow flashes. + +"Good God!" said Harry, "I am lost!" + +His mind raced backwards into the past with the incalculable +velocity of thought, and he began to comprehend his day's +adventures, to conceive them as a whole, and to recognise the sad +imbroglio in which his own character and fortunes had become +involved. He looked round him as if for help, but he was alone in +the garden, with his scattered diamonds and his redoubtable +interlocutor; and when he gave ear, there was no sound but the +rustle of the leaves and the hurried pulsation of his heart. It +was little wonder if the young man felt himself deserted by his +spirits, and with a broken voice repeated his last ejaculation - "I +am lost!" + +The gardener peered in all directions with an air of guilt; but +there was no face at any of the windows, and he seemed to breathe +again. + +"Pick up a heart," he said, "you fool! The worst of it is done. +Why could you not say at first there was enough for two? Two?" he +repeated, "aye, and for two hundred! But come away from here, +where we may be observed; and, for the love of wisdom, straighten +out your hat and brush your clothes. You could not travel two +steps the figure of fun you look just now." + +While Harry mechanically adopted these suggestions, the gardener, +getting upon his knees, hastily drew together the scattered jewels +and returned them to the bandbox. The touch of these costly +crystals sent a shiver of emotion through the man's stalwart frame; +his face was transfigured, and his eyes shone with concupiscence; +indeed it seemed as if he luxuriously prolonged his occupation, and +dallied with every diamond that he handled. At last, however, it +was done; and, concealing the bandbox in his smock, the gardener +beckoned to Harry and preceded him in the direction of the house. + +Near the door they were met by a young man evidently in holy +orders, dark and strikingly handsome, with a look of mingled +weakness and resolution, and very neatly attired after the manner +of his caste. The gardener was plainly annoyed by this encounter; +but he put as good a face upon it as he could, and accosted the +clergyman with an obsequious and smiling air. + +"Here is a fine afternoon, Mr. Rolles," said he: "a fine +afternoon, as sure as God made it! And here is a young friend of +mine who had a fancy to look at my roses. I took the liberty to +bring him in, for I thought none of the lodgers would object." + +"Speaking for myself," replied the Reverend Mr. Rolles, "I do not; +nor do I fancy any of the rest of us would be more difficult upon +so small a matter. The garden is your own, Mr. Raeburn; we must +none of us forget that; and because you give us liberty to walk +there we should be indeed ungracious if we so far presumed upon +your politeness as to interfere with the convenience of your +friends. But, on second thoughts," he added, "I believe that this +gentleman and I have met before. Mr. Hartley, I think. I regret +to observe that you have had a fall." + +And he offered his hand. + +A sort of maiden dignity and a desire to delay as long as possible +the necessity for explanation moved Harry to refuse this chance of +help, and to deny his own identity. He chose the tender mercies of +the gardener, who was at least unknown to him, rather than the +curiosity and perhaps the doubts of an acquaintance. + +"I fear there is some mistake," said he. "My name is Thomlinson +and I am a friend of Mr. Raeburn's." + +"Indeed?" said Mr. Rolles. "The likeness is amazing." + +Mr. Raeburn, who had been upon thorns throughout this colloquy, now +felt it high time to bring it to a period. + +"I wish you a pleasant saunter, sir," said he. + +And with that he dragged Harry after him into the house, and then +into a chamber on the garden. His first care was to draw down the +blind, for Mr. Rolles still remained where they had left him, in an +attitude of perplexity and thought. Then he emptied the broken +bandbox on the table, and stood before the treasure, thus fully +displayed, with an expression of rapturous greed, and rubbing his +hands upon his thighs. For Harry, the sight of the man's face +under the influence of this base emotion, added another pang to +those he was already suffering. It seemed incredible that, from +his life of pure and delicate trifling, he should be plunged in a +breath among sordid and criminal relations. He could reproach his +conscience with no sinful act; and yet he was now suffering the +punishment of sin in its most acute and cruel forms - the dread of +punishment, the suspicions of the good, and the companionship and +contamination of vile and brutal natures. He felt he could lay his +life down with gladness to escape from the room and the society of +Mr. Raeburn. + +"And now," said the latter, after he had separated the jewels into +two nearly equal parts, and drawn one of them nearer to himself; +"and now," said he, "everything in this world has to be paid for, +and some things sweetly. You must know, Mr. Hartley, if such be +your name, that I am a man of a very easy temper, and good nature +has been my stumbling-block from first to last. I could pocket the +whole of these pretty pebbles, if I chose, and I should like to see +you dare to say a word; but I think I must have taken a liking to +you; for I declare I have not the heart to shave you so close. So, +do you see, in pure kind feeling, I propose that we divide; and +these," indicating the two heaps, "are the proportions that seem to +me just and friendly. Do you see any objection, Mr. Hartley, may I +ask? I am not the man to stick upon a brooch." + +"But, sir," cried Harry, "what you propose to me is impossible. +The jewels are not mine, and I cannot share what is another's, no +matter with whom, nor in what proportions." + + "They are not yours, are they not?" returned Raeburn. "And you +could not share them with anybody, couldn't you? Well now, that is +what I call a pity; for here am I obliged to take you to the +station. The police - think of that," he continued; "think of the +disgrace for your respectable parents; think," he went on, taking +Harry by the wrist; "think of the Colonies and the Day of +Judgment." + +"I cannot help it," wailed Harry. "It is not my fault. You will +not come with me to Eaton Place?" + +"No," replied the man, "I will not, that is certain. And I mean to +divide these playthings with you here." + +And so saying he applied a sudden and severe torsion to the lad's +wrist. + +Harry could not suppress a scream, and the perspiration burst forth +upon his face. Perhaps pain and terror quickened his intelligence, +but certainly at that moment the whole business flashed across him +in another light; and he saw that there was nothing for it but to +accede to the ruffian's proposal, and trust to find the house and +force him to disgorge, under more favourable circumstances, and +when he himself was clear from all suspicion. + +"I agree," he said. + +"There is a lamb," sneered the gardener. "I thought you would +recognise your interests at last. This bandbox," he continued, "I +shall burn with my rubbish; it is a thing that curious folk might +recognise; and as for you, scrape up your gaieties and put them in +your pocket." + +Harry proceeded to obey, Raeburn watching him, and every now and +again his greed rekindled by some bright scintillation, abstracting +another jewel from the secretary's share, and adding it to his own. + +When this was finished, both proceeded to the front door, which +Raeburn cautiously opened to observe the street. This was +apparently clear of passengers; for he suddenly seized Harry by the +nape of the neck, and holding his face downward so that he could +see nothing but the roadway and the doorsteps of the houses, pushed +him violently before him down one street and up another for the +space of perhaps a minute and a half. Harry had counted three +corners before the bully relaxed his grasp, and crying, "Now be off +with you!" sent the lad flying head foremost with a well-directed +and athletic kick. + +When Harry gathered himself up, half-stunned and bleeding freely at +the nose, Mr. Raeburn had entirely disappeared. For the first +time, anger and pain so completely overcame the lad's spirits that +he burst into a fit of tears and remained sobbing in the middle of +the road. + +After he had thus somewhat assuaged his emotion, he began to look +about him and read the names of the streets at whose intersection +he had been deserted by the gardener. He was still in an +unfrequented portion of West London, among villas and large +gardens; but he could see some persons at a window who had +evidently witnessed his misfortune; and almost immediately after a +servant came running from the house and offered him a glass of +water. At the same time, a dirty rogue, who had been slouching +somewhere in the neighbourhood, drew near him from the other side. + +"Poor fellow," said the maid, "how vilely you have been handled, to +be sure! Why, your knees are all cut, and your clothes ruined! Do +you know the wretch who used you so?" + +"That I do!" cried Harry, who was somewhat refreshed by the water; +"and shall run him home in spite of his precautions. He shall pay +dearly for this day's work, I promise you." + +"You had better come into the house and have yourself washed and +brushed," continued the maid. "My mistress will make you welcome, +never fear. And see, I will pick up your hat. Why, love of +mercy!" she screamed, "if you have not dropped diamonds all over +the street!" + +Such was the case; a good half of what remained to him after the +depredations of Mr. Raeburn, had been shaken out of his pockets by +the summersault and once more lay glittering on the ground. He +blessed his fortune that the maid had been so quick of eye; "there +is nothing so bad but it might be worse," thought he; and the +recovery of these few seemed to him almost as great an affair as +the loss of all the rest. But, alas! as he stooped to pick up his +treasures, the loiterer made a rapid onslaught, overset both Harry +and the maid with a movement of his arms, swept up a double handful +of the diamonds, and made off along the street with an amazing +swiftness. + +Harry, as soon as he could get upon his feet, gave chase to the +miscreant with many cries, but the latter was too fleet of foot, +and probably too well acquainted with the locality; for turn where +the pursuer would he could find no traces of the fugitive. + +In the deepest despondency, Harry revisited the scene of his +mishap, where the maid, who was still waiting, very honestly +returned him his hat and the remainder of the fallen diamonds. +Harry thanked her from his heart, and being now in no humour for +economy, made his way to the nearest cab-stand and set off for +Eaton Place by coach. + +The house, on his arrival, seemed in some confusion, as if a +catastrophe had happened in the family; and the servants clustered +together in the hall, and were unable, or perhaps not altogether +anxious, to suppress their merriment at the tatterdemalion figure +of the secretary. He passed them with as good an air of dignity as +he could assume, and made directly for the boudoir. When he opened +the door an astonishing and even menacing spectacle presented +itself to his eyes; for he beheld the General and his wife and, of +all people, Charlie Pendragon, closeted together and speaking with +earnestness and gravity on some important subject. Harry saw at +once that there was little left for him to explain - plenary +confession had plainly been made to the General of the intended +fraud upon his pocket, and the unfortunate miscarriage of the +scheme; and they had all made common cause against a common danger. + +"Thank Heaven!" cried Lady Vandeleur, "here he is! The bandbox, +Harry - the bandbox!" + +But Harry stood before them silent and downcast. + +"Speak!" she cried. "Speak! Where is the bandbox?" + +And the men, with threatening gestures, repeated the demand. + +Harry drew a handful of jewels from his pocket. He was very white. + +"This is all that remains," said he. "I declare before Heaven it +was through no fault of mine; and if you will have patience, +although some are lost, I am afraid, for ever, others, I am sure, +may be still recovered." + +"Alas!" cried Lady Vandeleur, "all our diamonds are gone, and I owe +ninety thousand pounds for dress!" + +"Madam," said the General, "you might have paved the gutter with +your own trash; you might have made debts to fifty times the sum +you mention; you might have robbed me of my mother's coronet and +ring; and Nature might have still so far prevailed that I could +have forgiven you at last. But, madam, you have taken the Rajah's +Diamond - the Eye of Light, as the Orientals poetically termed it - +the Pride of Kashgar! You have taken from me the Rajah's Diamond," +he cried, raising his hands, "and all, madam, all is at an end +between us!" + +"Believe me, General Vandeleur," she replied, "that is one of the +most agreeable speeches that ever I heard from your lips; and since +we are to be ruined, I could almost welcome the change, if it +delivers me from you. You have told me often enough that I married +you for your money; let me tell you now that I always bitterly +repented the bargain; and if you were still marriageable, and had a +diamond bigger than your head, I should counsel even my maid +against a union so uninviting and disastrous. As for you, Mr. +Hartley," she continued, turning on the secretary, "you have +sufficiently exhibited your valuable qualities in this house; we +are now persuaded that you equally lack manhood, sense, and self- +respect; and I can see only one course open for you - to withdraw +instanter, and, if possible, return no more. For your wages you +may rank as a creditor in my late husband's bankruptcy." + +Harry had scarcely comprehended this insulting address before the +General was down upon him with another. + +"And in the meantime," said that personage, "follow me before the +nearest Inspector of Police. You may impose upon a simple-minded +soldier, sir, but the eye of the law will read your disreputable +secret. If I must spend my old age in poverty through your +underhand intriguing with my wife, I mean at least that you shall +not remain unpunished for your pains; and God, sir, will deny me a +very considerable satisfaction if you do not pick oakum from now +until your dying day." + +With that, the General dragged Harry from the apartment, and +hurried him downstairs and along the street to the police-station +of the district. + + +Here (says my Arabian author) ended this deplorable business of the +bandbox. But to the unfortunate Secretary the whole affair was the +beginning of a new and manlier life. The police were easily +persuaded of his innocence; and, after he had given what help he +could in the subsequent investigations, he was even complemented by +one of the chiefs of the detective department on the probity and +simplicity of his behaviour. Several persons interested themselves +in one so unfortunate; and soon after he inherited a sum of money +from a maiden aunt in Worcestershire. With this he married +Prudence, and set sail for Bendigo, or according to another +account, for Trincomalee, exceedingly content, and will the best of +prospects. + + + +STORY OF THE YOUNG MAN IN HOLY ORDERS + + + +The Reverend Mr. Simon Rolles had distinguished himself in the +Moral Sciences, and was more than usually proficient in the study +of Divinity. His essay "On the Christian Doctrine of the Social +Obligations" obtained for him, at the moment of its production, a +certain celebrity in the University of Oxford; and it was +understood in clerical and learned circles that young Mr. Rolles +had in contemplation a considerable work - a folio, it was said - +on the authority of the Fathers of the Church. These attainments, +these ambitious designs, however, were far from helping him to any +preferment; and he was still in quest of his first curacy when a +chance ramble in that part of London, the peaceful and rich aspect +of the garden, a desire for solitude and study, and the cheapness +of the lodging, led him to take up his abode with Mr. Raeburn, the +nurseryman of Stockdove Lane. + +It was his habit every afternoon, after he had worked seven or +eight hours on St. Ambrose or St. Chrysostom, to walk for a while +in meditation among the roses. And this was usually one of the +most productive moments of his day. But even a sincere appetite +for thought, and the excitement of grave problems awaiting +solution, are not always sufficient to preserve the mind of the +philosopher against the petty shocks and contacts of the world. +And when Mr. Rolles found General Vandeleur's secretary, ragged and +bleeding, in the company of his landlord; when he saw both change +colour and seek to avoid his questions; and, above all, when the +former denied his own identity with the most unmoved assurance, he +speedily forgot the Saints and Fathers in the vulgar interest of +curiosity. + +"I cannot be mistaken," thought he. "That is Mr. Hartley beyond a +doubt. How comes he in such a pickle? why does he deny his name? +and what can be his business with that black-looking ruffian, my +landlord?" + +As he was thus reflecting, another peculiar circumstance attracted +his attention. The face of Mr. Raeburn appeared at a low window +next the door; and, as chance directed, his eyes met those of Mr. +Rolles. The nurseryman seemed disconcerted, and even alarmed; and +immediately after the blind of the apartment was pulled sharply +down. + +"This may all be very well," reflected Mr. Rolles; "it may be all +excellently well; but I confess freely that I do not think so. +Suspicious, underhand, untruthful, fearful of observation - I +believe upon my soul," he thought, "the pair are plotting some +disgraceful action." + +The detective that there is in all of us awoke and became clamant +in the bosom of Mr. Rolles; and with a brisk, eager step, that bore +no resemblance to his usual gait, he proceeded to make the circuit +of the garden. When he came to the scene of Harry's escalade, his +eye was at once arrested by a broken rosebush and marks of +trampling on the mould. He looked up, and saw scratches on the +brick, and a rag of trouser floating from a broken bottle. This, +then, was the mode of entrance chosen by Mr. Raeburn's particular +friend! It was thus that General Vandeleur's secretary came to +admire a flower-garden! The young clergyman whistled softly to +himself as he stooped to examine the ground. He could make out +where Harry had landed from his perilous leap; he recognised the +flat foot of Mr. Raeburn where it had sunk deeply in the soil as he +pulled up the Secretary by the collar; nay, on a closer inspection, +he seemed to distinguish the marks of groping fingers, as though +something had been spilt abroad and eagerly collected. + +"Upon my word," he thought, "the thing grows vastly interesting." + +And just then he caught sight of something almost entirely buried +in the earth. In an instant he had disinterred a dainty morocco +case, ornamented and clasped in gilt. It had been trodden heavily +underfoot, and thus escaped the hurried search of Mr. Raeburn. Mr. +Rolles opened the case, and drew a long breath of almost horrified +astonishment; for there lay before him, in a cradle of green +velvet, a diamond of prodigious magnitude and of the finest water. +It was of the bigness of a duck's egg; beautifully shaped, and +without a flaw; and as the sun shone upon it, it gave forth a +lustre like that of electricity, and seemed to burn in his hand +with a thousand internal fires. + +He knew little of precious stones; but the Rajah's Diamond was a +wonder that explained itself; a village child, if he found it, +would run screaming for the nearest cottage; and a savage would +prostrate himself in adoration before so imposing a fetish. The +beauty of the stone flattered the young clergyman's eyes; the +thought of its incalculable value overpowered his intellect. He +knew that what he held in his hand was worth more than many years' +purchase of an archiepiscopal see; that it would build cathedrals +more stately than Ely or Cologne; that he who possessed it was set +free for ever from the primal curse, and might follow his own +inclinations without concern or hurry, without let or hindrance. +And as he suddenly turned it, the rays leaped forth again with +renewed brilliancy, and seemed to pierce his very heart. + +Decisive actions are often taken in a moment and without any +conscious deliverance from the rational parts of man. So it was +now with Mr. Rolles. He glanced hurriedly round; beheld, like Mr. +Raeburn before him, nothing but the sunlit flower-garden, the tall +tree-tops, and the house with blinded windows; and in a trice he +had shut the case, thrust it into his pocket, and was hastening to +his study with the speed of guilt. + +The Reverend Simon Rolles had stolen the Rajah's Diamond. + +Early in the afternoon the police arrived with Harry Hartley. The +nurseryman, who was beside himself with terror, readily discovered +his hoard; and the jewels were identified and inventoried in the +presence of the Secretary. As for Mr. Rolles, he showed himself in +a most obliging temper, communicated what he knew with freedom, and +professed regret that he could do no more to help the officers in +their duty. + +"Still," he added, "I suppose your business is nearly at an end." + +"By no means," replied the man from Scotland Yard; and he narrated +the second robbery of which Harry had been the immediate victim, +and gave the young clergyman a description of the more important +jewels that were still not found, dilating particularly on the +Rajah's Diamond. + +"It must be worth a fortune," observed Mr. Rolles. + +"Ten fortunes - twenty fortunes," cried the officer. + +"The more it is worth," remarked Simon shrewdly, "the more +difficult it must be to sell. Such a thing has a physiognomy not +to be disguised, and I should fancy a man might as easily negotiate +St. Paul's Cathedral." + +"Oh, truly!" said the officer; "but if the thief be a man of any +intelligence, he will cut it into three or four, and there will be +still enough to make him rich." + +"Thank you," said the clergyman. "You cannot imagine how much your +conversation interests me." + +Whereupon the functionary admitted that they knew many strange +things in his profession, and immediately after took his leave. + +Mr. Rolles regained his apartment. It seemed smaller and barer +than usual; the materials for his great work had never presented so +little interest; and he looked upon his library with the eye of +scorn. He took down, volume by volume, several Fathers of the +Church, and glanced them through; but they contained nothing to his +purpose. + +"These old gentlemen," thought he, "are no doubt very valuable +writers, but they seem to me conspicuously ignorant of life. Here +am I, with learning enough to be a Bishop, and I positively do not +know how to dispose of a stolen diamond. I glean a hint from a +common policeman, and, with all my folios, I cannot so much as put +it into execution. This inspires me with very low ideas of +University training." + +Herewith he kicked over his book-shelf and, putting on his hat, +hastened from the house to the club of which he was a member. In +such a place of mundane resort he hoped to find some man of good +counsel and a shrewd experience in life. In the reading-room he +saw many of the country clergy and an Archdeacon; there were three +journalists and a writer upon the Higher Metaphysic, playing pool; +and at dinner only the raff of ordinary club frequenters showed +their commonplace and obliterated countenances. None of these, +thought Mr. Rolles, would know more on dangerous topics than he +knew himself; none of them were fit to give him guidance in his +present strait. At length in the smoking-room, up many weary +stairs, he hit upon a gentleman of somewhat portly build and +dressed with conspicuous plainness. He was smoking a cigar and +reading the FORTNIGHTLY REVIEW; his face was singularly free from +all sign of preoccupation or fatigue; and there was something in +his air which seemed to invite confidence and to expect submission. +The more the young clergyman scrutinised his features, the more he +was convinced that he had fallen on one capable of giving pertinent +advice. + +"Sir," said he, "you will excuse my abruptness; but I judge you +from your appearance to be pre-eminently a man of the world." + +"I have indeed considerable claims to that distinction," replied +the stranger, laying aside his magazine with a look of mingled +amusement and surprise. + +"I, sir," continued the Curate, "am a recluse, a student, a +creature of ink-bottles and patristic folios. A recent event has +brought my folly vividly before my eyes, and I desire to instruct +myself in life. By life," he added, "I do not mean Thackeray's +novels; but the crimes and secret possibilities of our society, and +the principles of wise conduct among exceptional events. I am a +patient reader; can the thing be learnt in books?" + +"You put me in a difficulty," said the stranger. "I confess I have +no great notion of the use of books, except to amuse a railway +journey; although, I believe, there are some very exact treatises +on astronomy, the use of the globes, agriculture, and the art of +making paper flowers. Upon the less apparent provinces of life I +fear you will find nothing truthful. Yet stay," he added, "have +you read Gaboriau?" + +Mr. Rolles admitted he had never even heard the name. + +"You may gather some notions from Gaboriau," resumed the stranger. +"He is at least suggestive; and as he is an author much studied by +Prince Bismarck, you will, at the worst, lose your time in good +society." + +"Sir," said the Curate, "I am infinitely obliged by your +politeness." + +"You have already more than repaid me," returned the other. + +"How?" inquired Simon. + +"By the novelty of your request," replied the gentleman; and with a +polite gesture, as though to ask permission, he resumed the study +of the FORTNIGHTLY REVIEW. + +On his way home Mr. Rolles purchased a work on precious stones and +several of Gaboriau's novels. These last he eagerly skimmed until +an advanced hour in the morning; but although they introduced him +to many new ideas, he could nowhere discover what to do with a +stolen diamond. He was annoyed, moreover, to find the information +scattered amongst romantic story-telling, instead of soberly set +forth after the manner of a manual; and he concluded that, even if +the writer had thought much upon these subjects, he was totally +lacking in educational method. For the character and attainments +of Lecoq, however, he was unable to contain his admiration. + +"He was truly a great creature," ruminated Mr. Rolles. "He knew +the world as I know Paley's Evidences. There was nothing that he +could not carry to a termination with his own hand, and against the +largest odds. Heavens!" he broke out suddenly, "is not this the +lesson? Must I not learn to cut diamonds for myself?" + +It seemed to him as if he had sailed at once out of his +perplexities; he remembered that he knew a jeweller, one B. +Macculloch, in Edinburgh, who would be glad to put him in the way +of the necessary training; a few months, perhaps a few years, of +sordid toil, and he would be sufficiently expert to divide and +sufficiently cunning to dispose with advantage of the Rajah's +Diamond. That done, he might return to pursue his researches at +leisure, a wealthy and luxurious student, envied and respected by +all. Golden visions attended him through his slumber, and he awoke +refreshed and light-hearted with the morning sun. + +Mr. Raeburn's house was on that day to be closed by the police, and +this afforded a pretext for his departure. He cheerfully prepared +his baggage, transported it to King's Cross, where he left it in +the cloak-room, and returned to the club to while away the +afternoon and dine. + +"If you dine here to-day, Rolles," observed an acquaintance, "you +may see two of the most remarkable men in England - Prince Florizel +of Bohemia, and old Jack Vandeleur." + +"I have heard of the Prince," replied Mr. Rolles; "and General +Vandeleur I have even met in society." + +"General Vandeleur is an ass!" returned the other. "This is his +brother John, the biggest adventurer, the best judge of precious +stones, and one of the most acute diplomatists in Europe. Have you +never heard of his duel with the Duc de Val d'Orge? of his exploits +and atrocities when he was Dictator of Paraguay? of his dexterity +in recovering Sir Samuel Levi's jewellery? nor of his services in +the Indian Mutiny - services by which the Government profited, but +which the Government dared not recognise? You make me wonder what +we mean by fame, or even by infamy; for Jack Vandeleur has +prodigious claims to both. Run downstairs," he continued, "take a +table near them, and keep your ears open. You will hear some +strange talk, or I am much misled." + +"But how shall I know them?" inquired the clergyman. + +"Know them!" cried his friend; "why, the Prince is the finest +gentleman in Europe, the only living creature who looks like a +king; and as for Jack Vandeleur, if you can imagine Ulysses at +seventy years of age, and with a sabre-cut across his face, you +have the man before you! Know them, indeed! Why, you could pick +either of them out of a Derby day!" + +Rolles eagerly hurried to the dining-room. It was as his friend +had asserted; it was impossible to mistake the pair in question. +Old John Vandeleur was of a remarkable force of body, and obviously +broken to the most difficult exercises. He had neither the +carriage of a swordsman, nor of a sailor, nor yet of one much +inured to the saddle; but something made up of all these, and the +result and expression of many different habits and dexterities. +His features were bold and aquiline; his expression arrogant and +predatory; his whole appearance that of a swift, violent, +unscrupulous man of action; and his copious white hair and the deep +sabre-cut that traversed his nose and temple added a note of +savagery to a head already remarkable and menacing in itself. + +In his companion, the Prince of Bohemia, Mr. Rolles was astonished +to recognise the gentleman who had recommended him the study of +Gaboriau. Doubtless Prince Florizel, who rarely visited the club, +of which, as of most others, he was an honorary member, had been +waiting for John Vandeleur when Simon accosted him on the previous +evening. + +The other diners had modestly retired into the angles of the room, +and left the distinguished pair in a certain isolation, but the +young clergyman was unrestrained by any sentiment of awe, and, +marching boldly up, took his place at the nearest table. + +The conversation was, indeed, new to the student's ears. The ex- +Dictator of Paraguay stated many extraordinary experiences in +different quarters of the world; and the Prince supplied a +commentary which, to a man of thought, was even more interesting +than the events themselves. Two forms of experience were thus +brought together and laid before the young clergyman; and he did +not know which to admire the most - the desperate actor or the +skilled expert in life; the man who spoke boldly of his own deeds +and perils, or the man who seemed, like a god, to know all things +and to have suffered nothing. The manner of each aptly fitted with +his part in the discourse. The Dictator indulged in brutalities +alike of speech and gesture; his hand opened and shut and fell +roughly on the table; and his voice was loud and heavy. The +Prince, on the other hand, seemed the very type of urbane docility +and quiet; the least movement, the least inflection, had with him a +weightier significance than all the shouts and pantomime of his +companion; and if ever, as must frequently have been the case, he +described some experience personal to himself, it was so aptly +dissimulated as to pass unnoticed with the rest. + +At length the talk wandered on to the late robberies and the +Rajah's Diamond. + +"That diamond would be better in the sea," observed Prince +Florizel. + +"As a Vandeleur," replied the Dictator, "your Highness may imagine +my dissent." + +"I speak on grounds of public policy," pursued the Prince. "Jewels +so valuable should be reserved for the collection of a Prince or +the treasury of a great nation. To hand them about among the +common sort of men is to set a price on Virtue's head; and if the +Rajah of Kashgar - a Prince, I understand, of great enlightenment - +desired vengeance upon the men of Europe, he could hardly have gone +more efficaciously about his purpose than by sending us this apple +of discord. There is no honesty too robust for such a trial. I +myself, who have many duties and many privileges of my own - I +myself, Mr. Vandeleur, could scarce handle the intoxicating crystal +and be safe. As for you, who are a diamond hunter by taste and +profession, I do not believe there is a crime in the calendar you +would not perpetrate - I do not believe you have a friend in the +world whom you would not eagerly betray - I do not know if you have +a family, but if you have I declare you would sacrifice your +children - and all this for what? Not to be richer, nor to have +more comforts or more respect, but simply to call this diamond +yours for a year or two until you die, and now and again to open a +safe and look at it as one looks at a picture." + +"It is true," replied Vandeleur. "I have hunted most things, from +men and women down to mosquitos; I have dived for coral; I have +followed both whales and tigers; and a diamond is the tallest +quarry of the lot. It has beauty and worth; it alone can properly +reward the ardours of the chase. At this moment, as your Highness +may fancy, I am upon the trail; I have a sure knack, a wide +experience; I know every stone of price in my brother's collection +as a shepherd knows his sheep; and I wish I may die if I do not +recover them every one!" + +"Sir Thomas Vandeleur will have great cause to thank you," said the +Prince. + +"I am not so sure," returned the Dictator, with a laugh. "One of +the Vandeleurs will. Thomas or John - Peter or Paul - we are all +apostles." + +"I did not catch your observation," said the Prince with some +disgust. + +And at the same moment the waiter informed Mr. Vandeleur that his +cab was at the door. + +Mr. Rolles glanced at the clock, and saw that he also must be +moving; and the coincidence struck him sharply and unpleasantly, +for he desired to see no more of the diamond hunter. + +Much study having somewhat shaken the young man's nerves, he was in +the habit of travelling in the most luxurious manner; and for the +present journey he had taken a sofa in the sleeping carriage. + +"You will be very comfortable," said the guard; "there is no one in +your compartment, and only one old gentleman in the other end." + +It was close upon the hour, and the tickets were being examined, +when Mr. Rolles beheld this other fellow-passenger ushered by +several porters into his place; certainly, there was not another +man in the world whom he would not have preferred - for it was old +John Vandeleur, the ex-Dictator. + +The sleeping carriages on the Great Northern line were divided into +three compartments - one at each end for travellers, and one in the +centre fitted with the conveniences of a lavatory. A door running +in grooves separated each of the others from the lavatory; but as +there were neither bolts nor locks, the whole suite was practically +common ground. + +When Mr. Rolles had studied his position, he perceived himself +without defence. If the Dictator chose to pay him a visit in the +course of the night, he could do no less than receive it; he had no +means of fortification, and lay open to attack as if he had been +lying in the fields. This situation caused him some agony of mind. +He recalled with alarm the boastful statements of his fellow- +traveller across the dining-table, and the professions of +immorality which he had heard him offering to the disgusted Prince. +Some persons, he remembered to have read, are endowed with a +singular quickness of perception for the neighbourhood of precious +metals; through walls and even at considerable distances they are +said to divine the presence of gold. Might it not be the same with +diamonds? he wondered; and if so, who was more likely to enjoy this +transcendental sense than the person who gloried in the appellation +of the Diamond Hunter? From such a man he recognised that he had +everything to fear, and longed eagerly for the arrival of the day. + +In the meantime he neglected no precaution, concealed his diamond +in the most internal pocket of a system of great-coats, and +devoutly recommended himself to the care of Providence. + +The train pursued its usual even and rapid course; and nearly half +the journey had been accomplished before slumber began to triumph +over uneasiness in the breast of Mr. Rolles. For some time he +resisted its influence; but it grew upon him more and more, and a +little before York he was fain to stretch himself upon one of the +couches and suffer his eyes to close; and almost at the same +instant consciousness deserted the young clergyman. His last +thought was of his terrifying neighbour. + +When he awoke it was still pitch dark, except for the flicker of +the veiled lamp; and the continual roaring and oscillation +testified to the unrelaxed velocity of the train. He sat upright +in a panic, for he had been tormented by the most uneasy dreams; it +was some seconds before he recovered his self-command; and even +after he had resumed a recumbent attitude sleep continued to flee +him, and he lay awake with his brain in a state of violent +agitation, and his eyes fixed upon the lavatory door. He pulled +his clerical felt hat over his brow still farther to shield him +from the light; and he adopted the usual expedients, such as +counting a thousand or banishing thought, by which experienced +invalids are accustomed to woo the approach of sleep. In the case +of Mr. Rolles they proved one and all vain; he was harassed by a +dozen different anxieties - the old man in the other end of the +carriage haunted him in the most alarming shapes; and in whatever +attitude he chose to lie the diamond in his pocket occasioned him a +sensible physical distress. It burned, it was too large, it +bruised his ribs; and there were infinitesimal fractions of a +second in which he had half a mind to throw it from the window. + +While he was thus lying, a strange incident took place. + +The sliding-door into the lavatory stirred a little, and then a +little more, and was finally drawn back for the space of about +twenty inches. The lamp in the lavatory was unshaded, and in the +lighted aperture thus disclosed, Mr. Rolles could see the head of +Mr. Vandeleur in an attitude of deep attention. He was conscious +that the gaze of the Dictator rested intently on his own face; and +the instinct of self-preservation moved him to hold his breath, to +refrain from the least movement, and keeping his eyes lowered, to +watch his visitor from underneath the lashes. After about a +moment, the head was withdrawn and the door of the lavatory +replaced. + +The Dictator had not come to attack, but to observe; his action was +not that of a man threatening another, but that of a man who was +himself threatened; if Mr. Rolles was afraid of him, it appeared +that he, in his turn, was not quite easy on the score of Mr. +Rolles. He had come, it would seem, to make sure that his only +fellow-traveller was asleep; and, when satisfied on that point, he +had at once withdrawn. + +The clergyman leaped to his feet. The extreme of terror had given +place to a reaction of foolhardy daring. He reflected that the +rattle of the flying train concealed all other sounds, and +determined, come what might, to return the visit he had just +received. Divesting himself of his cloak, which might have +interfered with the freedom of his action, he entered the lavatory +and paused to listen. As he had expected, there was nothing to be +heard above the roar of the train's progress; and laying his hand +on the door at the farther side, he proceeded cautiously to draw it +back for about six inches. Then he stopped, and could not contain +an ejaculation of surprise. + +John Vandeleur wore a fur travelling cap with lappets to protect +his ears; and this may have combined with the sound of the express +to keep him in ignorance of what was going forward. It is certain, +at least, that he did not raise his head, but continued without +interruption to pursue his strange employment. Between his feet +stood an open hat-box; in one hand he held the sleeve of his +sealskin great-coat; in the other a formidable knife, with which he +had just slit up the lining of the sleeve. Mr. Rolles had read of +persons carrying money in a belt; and as he had no acquaintance +with any but cricket-belts, he had never been able rightly to +conceive how this was managed. But here was a stranger thing +before his eyes; for John Vandeleur, it appeared, carried diamonds +in the lining of his sleeve; and even as the young clergyman gazed, +he could see one glittering brilliant drop after another into the +hat-box. + +He stood riveted to the spot, following this unusual business with +his eyes. The diamonds were, for the most part, small, and not +easily distinguishable either in shape or fire. Suddenly the +Dictator appeared to find a difficulty; he employed both hands and +stooped over his task; but it was not until after considerable +manoeuvring that he extricated a large tiara of diamonds from the +lining, and held it up for some seconds' examination before he +placed it with the others in the hat-box. The tiara was a ray of +light to Mr. Rolles; he immediately recognised it for a part of the +treasure stolen from Harry Hartley by the loiterer. There was no +room for mistake; it was exactly as the detective had described it; +there were the ruby stars, with a great emerald in the centre; +there were the interlacing crescents; and there were the pear- +shaped pendants, each a single stone, which gave a special value to +Lady Vandeleur's tiara. + +Mr. Rolles was hugely relieved. The Dictator was as deeply in the +affair as he was; neither could tell tales upon the other. In the +first glow of happiness, the clergyman suffered a deep sigh to +escape him; and as his bosom had become choked and his throat dry +during his previous suspense, the sigh was followed by a cough. + +Mr. Vandeleur looked up; his face contracted with the blackest and +most deadly passion; his eyes opened widely, and his under jaw +dropped in an astonishment that was upon the brink of fury. By an +instinctive movement he had covered the hat-box with the coat. For +half a minute the two men stared upon each other in silence. It +was not a long interval, but it sufficed for Mr. Rolles; he was one +of those who think swiftly on dangerous occasions; he decided on a +course of action of a singularly daring nature; and although he +felt he was setting his life upon the hazard, he was the first to +break silence. + +"I beg your pardon," said he. + +The Dictator shivered slightly, and when he spoke his voice was +hoarse. + +"What do you want here?" he asked. + +"I take a particular interest in diamonds," replied Mr. Rolles, +with an air of perfect self-possession. "Two connoisseurs should +be acquainted. I have here a trifle of my own which may perhaps +serve for an introduction." + +And so saying, he quietly took the case from his pocket, showed the +Rajah's Diamond to the Dictator for an instant, and replaced it in +security. + +"It was once your brother's," he added. + +John Vandeleur continued to regard him with a look of almost +painful amazement; but he neither spoke nor moved. + +"I was pleased to observe," resumed the young man, "that we have +gems from the same collection." + +The Dictator's surprise overpowered him. + +"I beg your pardon," he said; "I begin to perceive that I am +growing old! I am positively not prepared for little incidents +like this. But set my mind at rest upon one point: do my eyes +deceive me, or are you indeed a parson?" + +"I am in holy orders," answered Mr. Rolles. + +"Well," cried the other, "as long as I live I will never hear +another word against the cloth!" + +"You flatter me," said Mr. Rolles. + +"Pardon me," replied Vandeleur; "pardon me, young man. You are no +coward, but it still remains to be seen whether you are not the +worst of fools. Perhaps," he continued, leaning back upon his +seat, "perhaps you would oblige me with a few particulars. I must +suppose you had some object in the stupefying impudence of your +proceedings, and I confess I have a curiosity to know it." + +"It is very simple," replied the clergyman; "it proceeds from my +great inexperience of life." + +"I shall be glad to be persuaded," answered Vandeleur. + +Whereupon Mr. Rolles told him the whole story of his connection +with the Rajah's Diamond, from the time he found it in Raeburn's +garden to the time when he left London in the Flying Scotchman. He +added a brief sketch of his feelings and thoughts during the +journey, and concluded in these words:- + +"When I recognised the tiara I knew we were in the same attitude +towards Society, and this inspired me with a hope, which I trust +you will say was not ill-founded, that you might become in some +sense my partner in the difficulties and, of course, the profits of +my situation. To one of your special knowledge and obviously great +experience the negotiation of the diamond would give but little +trouble, while to me it was a matter of impossibility. On the +other part, I judged that I might lose nearly as much by cutting +the diamond, and that not improbably with an unskilful hand, as +might enable me to pay you with proper generosity for your +assistance. The subject was a delicate one to broach; and perhaps +I fell short in delicacy. But I must ask you to remember that for +me the situation was a new one, and I was entirely unacquainted +with the etiquette in use. I believe without vanity that I could +have married or baptized you in a very acceptable manner; but every +man has his own aptitudes, and this sort of bargain was not among +the list of my accomplishments." + +"I do not wish to flatter you," replied Vandeleur; "but upon my +word, you have an unusual disposition for a life of crime. You +have more accomplishments than you imagine; and though I have +encountered a number of rogues in different quarters of the world, +I never met with one so unblushing as yourself. Cheer up, Mr. +Rolles, you are in the right profession at last! As for helping +you, you may command me as you will. I have only a day's business +in Edinburgh on a little matter for my brother; and once that is +concluded, I return to Paris, where I usually reside. If you +please, you may accompany me thither. And before the end of a +month I believe I shall have brought your little business to a +satisfactory conclusion." + +(At this point, contrary to all the canons of his art, our Arabian +author breaks off the STORY OF THE YOUNG MAN IN HOLY ORDERS. I +regret and condemn such practices; but I must follow my original, +and refer the reader for the conclusion of Mr. Rolles' adventures +to the next number of the cycle, the STORY OF THE HOUSE WITH THE +GREEN BLINDS.) + + + +STORY OF THE HOUSE WITH THE GREEN BLINDS + + + +Francis Scrymgeour, a clerk in the Bank of Scotland at Edinburgh, +had attained the age of twenty-five in a sphere of quiet, +creditable, and domestic life. His mother died while he was young; +but his father, a man of sense and probity, had given him an +excellent education at school, and brought him up at home to +orderly and frugal habits. Francis, who was of a docile and +affectionate disposition, profited by these advantages with zeal, +and devoted himself heart and soul to his employment. A walk upon +Saturday afternoon, an occasional dinner with members of his +family, and a yearly tour of a fortnight in the Highlands or even +on the continent of Europe, were his principal distractions, and, +he grew rapidly in favour with his superiors, and enjoyed already a +salary of nearly two hundred pounds a year, with the prospect of an +ultimate advance to almost double that amount. Few young men were +more contented, few more willing and laborious than Francis +Scrymgeour. Sometimes at night, when he had read the daily paper, +he would play upon the flute to amuse his father, for whose +qualities he entertained a great respect. + +One day he received a note from a well-known firm of Writers to the +Signet, requesting the favour of an immediate interview with him. +The letter was marked "Private and Confidential," and had been +addressed to him at the bank, instead of at home - two unusual +circumstances which made him obey the summons with the more +alacrity. The senior member of the firm, a man of much austerity +of manner, made him gravely welcome, requested him to take a seat, +and proceeded to explain the matter in hand in the picked +expressions of a veteran man of business. A person, who must +remain nameless, but of whom the lawyer had every reason to think +well - a man, in short, of some station in the country - desired to +make Francis an annual allowance of five hundred pounds. The +capital was to be placed under the control of the lawyer's firm and +two trustees who must also remain anonymous. There were conditions +annexed to this liberality, but he was of opinion that his new +client would find nothing either excessive or dishonourable in the +terms; and he repeated these two words with emphasis, as though he +desired to commit himself to nothing more. + +Francis asked their nature. + +"The conditions," said the Writer to the Signet, "are, as I have +twice remarked, neither dishonourable nor excessive. At the same +time I cannot conceal from you that they are most unusual. Indeed, +the whole case is very much out of our way; and I should certainly +have refused it had it not been for the reputation of the gentleman +who entrusted it to my care, and, let me add, Mr. Scrymgeour, the +interest I have been led to take in yourself by many complimentary +and, I have no doubt, well-deserved reports." + +Francis entreated him to be more specific. + +"You cannot picture my uneasiness as to these conditions," he said. + +"They are two," replied the lawyer, "only two; and the sum, as you +will remember, is five hundred a-year - and unburdened, I forgot to +add, unburdened." + +And the lawyer raised his eyebrows at him with solemn gusto. + +"The first," he resumed, "is of remarkable simplicity. You must be +in Paris by the afternoon of Sunday, the 15th; there you will find, +at the box-office of the Comedie Francaise, a ticket for admission +taken in your name and waiting you. You are requested to sit out +the whole performance in the seat provided, and that is all." + +"I should certainly have preferred a week-day," replied Francis. " +But, after all, once in a way - " + +"And in Paris, my dear sir," added the lawyer soothingly. "I +believe I am something of a precisian myself, but upon such a +consideration, and in Paris, I should not hesitate an instant." + +And the pair laughed pleasantly together. + +"The other is of more importance," continued the Writer to the +Signet. "It regards your marriage. My client, taking a deep +interest in your welfare, desires to advise you absolutely in the +choice of a wife. Absolutely, you understand," he repeated. + +"Let us be more explicit, if you please," returned Francis. "Am I +to marry any one, maid or widow, black or white, whom this +invisible person chooses to propose?" + +"I was to assure you that suitability of age and position should be +a principle with your benefactor," replied the lawyer. "As to +race, I confess the difficulty had not occurred to me, and I failed +to inquire; but if you like I will make a note of it at once, and +advise you on the earliest opportunity." + +"Sir," said Francis, "it remains to be seen whether this whole +affair is not a most unworthy fraud. The circumstances are +inexplicable - I had almost said incredible; and until I see a +little more daylight, and some plausible motive, I confess I should +be very sorry to put a hand to the transaction. I appeal to you in +this difficulty for information. I must learn what is at the +bottom of it all. If you do not know, cannot guess, or are not at +liberty to tell me, I shall take my hat and go back to my bank as +came." + +"I do not know," answered the lawyer, "but I have an excellent +guess. Your father, and no one else, is at the root of this +apparently unnatural business." + +"My father!" cried Francis, in extreme disdain. "Worthy man, I +know every thought of his mind, every penny of his fortune!" + +"You misinterpret my words," said the lawyer. "I do not refer to +Mr. Scrymgeour, senior; for he is not your father. When he and his +wife came to Edinburgh, you were already nearly one year old, and +you had not yet been three months in their care. The secret has +been well kept; but such is the fact. Your father is unknown, and +I say again that I believe him to be the original of the offers I +am charged at present to transmit to you." + +It would be impossible to exaggerate the astonishment of Francis +Scrymgeour at this unexpected information. He pled this confusion +to the lawyer. + +"Sir," said he, "after a piece of news so startling, you must grant +me some hours for thought. You shall know this evening what +conclusion I have reached." + +The lawyer commended his prudence; and Francis, excusing himself +upon some pretext at the bank, took a long walk into the country, +and fully considered the different steps and aspects of the case. +A pleasant sense of his own importance rendered him the more +deliberate: but the issue was from the first not doubtful. His +whole carnal man leaned irresistibly towards the five hundred a +year, and the strange conditions with which it was burdened; he +discovered in his heart an invincible repugnance to the name of +Scrymgeour, which he had never hitherto disliked; he began to +despise the narrow and unromantic interests of his former life; and +when once his mind was fairly made up, he walked with a new feeling +of strength and freedom, and nourished himself with the gayest +anticipations. + +He said but a word to the lawyer, and immediately received a cheque +for two quarters' arrears; for the allowance was ante-dated from +the first of January. With this in his pocket, he walked home. +The flat in Scotland Street looked mean in his eyes; his nostrils, +for the first time, rebelled against the odour of broth; and he +observed little defects of manner in his adoptive father which +filled him with surprise and almost with disgust. The next day, he +determined, should see him on his way to Paris. + +In that city, where he arrived long before the appointed date, he +put up at a modest hotel frequented by English and Italians, and +devoted himself to improvement in the French tongue; for this +purpose he had a master twice a week, entered into conversation +with loiterers in the Champs Elysees, and nightly frequented the +theatre. He had his whole toilette fashionably renewed; and was +shaved and had his hair dressed every morning by a barber in a +neighbouring street. This gave him something of a foreign air, and +seemed to wipe off the reproach of his past years. + +At length, on the Saturday afternoon, he betook himself to the box- +office of the theatre in the Rue Richelieu. No sooner had he +mentioned his name than the clerk produced the order in an envelope +of which the address was scarcely dry. + +"It has been taken this moment," said the clerk. + +"Indeed!" said Francis. "May I ask what the gentleman was like?" + +"Your friend is easy to describe," replied the official. "He is +old and strong and beautiful, with white hair and a sabre-cut +across his face. You cannot fail to recognise so marked a person." + +"No, indeed," returned Francis; "and I thank you for your +politeness." + +"He cannot yet be far distant," added the clerk. "If you make +haste you might still overtake him." + +Francis did not wait to be twice told; he ran precipitately from +the theatre into the middle of the street and looked in all +directions. More than one white-haired man was within sight; but +though he overtook each of them in succession, all wanted the +sabre-cut. For nearly half-an-hour he tried one street after +another in the neighbourhood, until at length, recognising the +folly of continued search, he started on a walk to compose his +agitated feelings; for this proximity of an encounter with him to +whom he could not doubt he owed the day had profoundly moved the +young man. + +It chanced that his way lay up the Rue Drouot and thence up the Rue +des Martyrs; and chance, in this case, served him better than all +the forethought in the world. For on the outer boulevard he saw +two men in earnest colloquy upon a seat. One was dark, young, and +handsome, secularly dressed, but with an indelible clerical stamp; +the other answered in every particular to the description given him +by the clerk. Francis felt his heart beat high in his bosom; he +knew he was now about to hear the voice of his father; and making a +wide circuit, he noiselessly took his place behind the couple in +question, who were too much interested in their talk to observe +much else. As Francis had expected, the conversation was conducted +in the English language + +"Your suspicions begin to annoy me, Rolles," said the older man. +"I tell you I am doing my utmost; a man cannot lay his hand on +millions in a moment. Have I not taken you up, a mere stranger, +out of pure good-will? Are you not living largely on my bounty?" + +"On your advances, Mr. Vandeleur," corrected the other. + +"Advances, if you choose; and interest instead of goodwill, if you +prefer it," returned Vandeleur angrily. "I am not here to pick +expressions. Business is business; and your business, let me +remind you, is too muddy for such airs. Trust me, or leave me +alone and find some one else; but let us have an end, for God's +sake, of your jeremiads." + +"I am beginning to learn the world," replied the other, "and I see +that you have every reason to play me false, and not one to deal +honestly. I am not here to pick expressions either; you wish the +diamond for yourself; you know you do - you dare not deny it. Have +you not already forged my name, and searched my lodging in my +absence? I understand the cause of your delays; you are lying in +wait; you are the diamond hunter, forsooth; and sooner or later, by +fair means or foul, you'll lay your hands upon it. I tell you, it +must stop; push me much further and I promise you a surprise." + +"It does not become you to use threats," returned Vandeleur. "Two +can play at that. My brother is here in Paris; the police are on +the alert; and if you persist in wearying me with your +caterwauling, I will arrange a little astonishment for you, Mr. +Rolles. But mine shall be once and for all. Do you understand, or +would you prefer me to tell it you in Hebrew? There is an end to +all things, and you have come to the end of my patience. Tuesday, +at seven; not a day, not an hour sooner, not the least part of a +second, if it were to save your life. And if you do not choose to +wait, you may go to the bottomless pit for me, and welcome." + +And so saying, the Dictator arose from the bench, and marched off +in the direction of Montmartre, shaking his head and swinging his +cane with a most furious air; while his companion remained where he +was, in an attitude of great dejection. + +Francis was at the pitch of surprise and horror; his sentiments had +been shocked to the last degree; the hopeful tenderness with which +he had taken his place upon the bench was transformed into +repulsion and despair; old Mr. Scrymgeour, he reflected, was a far +more kindly and creditable parent than this dangerous and violent +intriguer; but he retained his presence of mind, and suffered not a +moment to elapse before he was on the trail of the Dictator. + +That gentleman's fury carried him forward at a brisk pace, and he +was so completely occupied in his angry thoughts that he never so +much as cast a look behind him till he reached his own door. + +His house stood high up in the Rue Lepic, commanding a view of all +Paris and enjoying the pure air of the heights. It was two storeys +high, with green blinds and shutters; and all the windows looking +on the street were hermetically closed. Tops of trees showed over +the high garden wall, and the wall was protected by CHEVAUX-DE- +FRISE. The Dictator paused a moment while he searched his pocket +for a key; and then, opening a gate, disappeared within the +enclosure. + +Francis looked about him; the neighbourhood was very lonely, the +house isolated in its garden. It seemed as if his observation must +here come to an abrupt end. A second glance, however, showed him a +tall house next door presenting a gable to the garden, and in this +gable a single window. He passed to the front and saw a ticket +offering unfurnished lodgings by the month; and, on inquiry, the +room which commanded the Dictator's garden proved to be one of +those to let. Francis did not hesitate a moment; he took the room, +paid an advance upon the rent, and returned to his hotel to seek +his baggage. + +The old man with the sabre-cut might or might not be his father; he +might or he might not be upon the true scent; but he was certainly +on the edge of an exciting mystery, and he promised himself that he +would not relax his observation until he had got to the bottom of +the secret. + +From the window of his new apartment Francis Scrymgeour commanded a +complete view into the garden of the house with the green blinds. +Immediately below him a very comely chestnut with wide boughs +sheltered a pair of rustic tables where people might dine in the +height of summer. On all sides save one a dense vegetation +concealed the soil; but there, between the tables and the house, he +saw a patch of gravel walk leading from the verandah to the garden- +gate. Studying the place from between the boards of the Venetian +shutters, which he durst not open for fear of attracting attention, +Francis observed but little to indicate the manners of the +inhabitants, and that little argued no more than a close reserve +and a taste for solitude. The garden was conventual, the house had +the air of a prison. The green blinds were all drawn down upon the +outside; the door into the verandah was closed; the garden, as far +as he could see it, was left entirely to itself in the evening +sunshine. A modest curl of smoke from a single chimney alone +testified to the presence of living people. + +In order that he might not be entirely idle, and to give a certain +colour to his way of life, Francis had purchased Euclid's Geometry +in French, which he set himself to copy and translate on the top of +his portmanteau and seated on the floor against the wall; for he +was equally without chair or table. From time to time he would +rise and cast a glance into the enclosure of the house with the +green blinds; but the windows remained obstinately closed and the +garden empty. + +Only late in the evening did anything occur to reward his continued +attention. Between nine and ten the sharp tinkle of a bell aroused +him from a fit of dozing; and he sprang to his observatory in time +to hear an important noise of locks being opened and bars removed, +and to see Mr. Vandeleur, carrying a lantern and clothed in a +flowing robe of black velvet with a skull-cap to match, issue from +under the verandah and proceed leisurely towards the garden gate. +The sound of bolts and bars was then repeated; and a moment after +Francis perceived the Dictator escorting into the house, in the +mobile light of the lantern, an individual of the lowest and most +despicable appearance. + +Half-an-hour afterwards the visitor was reconducted to the street; +and Mr. Vandeleur, setting his light upon one of the rustic tables, +finished a cigar with great deliberation under the foliage of the +chestnut. Francis, peering through a clear space among the leaves, +was able to follow his gestures as he threw away the ash or enjoyed +a copious inhalation; and beheld a cloud upon the old man's brow +and a forcible action of the lips, which testified to some deep and +probably painful train of thought. The cigar was already almost at +an end, when the voice of a young girl was heard suddenly crying +the hour from the interior of the house. + +"In a moment," replied John Vandeleur. + +And, with that, he threw away the stump and, taking up the lantern, +sailed away under the verandah for the night. As soon as the door +was closed, absolute darkness fell upon the house; Francis might +try his eyesight as much as he pleased, he could not detect so much +as a single chink of light below a blind; and he concluded, with +great good sense, that the bed-chambers were all upon the other +side. + +Early the next morning (for he was early awake after an +uncomfortable night upon the floor), he saw cause to adopt a +different explanation. The blinds rose, one after another, by +means of a spring in the interior, and disclosed steel shutters +such as we see on the front of shops; these in their turn were +rolled up by a similar contrivance; and for the space of about an +hour, the chambers were left open to the morning air. At the end +of that time Mr. Vandeleur, with his own hand, once more closed the +shutters and replaced the blinds from within. + +While Francis was still marvelling at these precautions, the door +opened and a young girl came forth to look about her in the garden. +It was not two minutes before she re-entered the house, but even in +that short time he saw enough to convince him that she possessed +the most unusual attractions. His curiosity was not only highly +excited by this incident, but his spirits were improved to a still +more notable degree. The alarming manners and more than equivocal +life of his father ceased from that moment to prey upon his mind; +from that moment he embraced his new family with ardour; and +whether the young lady should prove his sister or his wife, he felt +convinced she was an angel in disguise. So much was this the case +that he was seized with a sudden horror when he reflected how +little he really knew, and how possible it was that he had followed +the wrong person when he followed Mr. Vandeleur. + +The porter, whom he consulted, could afford him little information; +but, such as it was, it had a mysterious and questionable sound. +The person next door was an English gentleman of extraordinary +wealth, and proportionately eccentric in his tastes and habits. He +possessed great collections, which he kept in the house beside him; +and it was to protect these that he had fitted the place with steel +shutters, elaborate fastenings, and CHEVAUX-DE-FRISE along the +garden wall. He lived much alone, in spite of some strange +visitors with whom, it seemed, he had business to transact; and +there was no one else in the house, except Mademoiselle and an old +woman servant + +"Is Mademoiselle his daughter?" inquired Francis. + +"Certainly," replied the porter. "Mademoiselle is the daughter of +the house; and strange it is to see how she is made to work. For +all his riches, it is she who goes to market; and every day in the +week you may see her going by with a basket on her arm." + +"And the collections?" asked the other. + +"Sir," said the man, "they are immensely valuable. More I cannot +tell you. Since M. de Vandeleur's arrival no one in the quarter +has so much as passed the door." + +"Suppose not," returned Francis, "you must surely have some notion +what these famous galleries contain. Is it pictures, silks, +statues, jewels, or what?" + +"My faith, sir," said the fellow with a shrug, "it might be +carrots, and still I could not tell you. How should I know? The +house is kept like a garrison, as you perceive." + +And then as Francis was returning disappointed to his room, the +porter called him back. + +"I have just remembered, sir," said he. "M. de Vandeleur has been +in all parts of the world, and I once heard the old woman declare +that he had brought many diamonds back with him. If that be the +truth, there must be a fine show behind those shutters." + +By an early hour on Sunday Francis was in his place at the theatre. +The seat which had been taken for him was only two or three numbers +from the left-hand side, and directly opposite one of the lower +boxes. As the seat had been specially chosen there was doubtless +something to be learned from its position; and he judged by an +instinct that the box upon his right was, in some way or other, to +be connected with the drama in which he ignorantly played a part. +Indeed, it was so situated that its occupants could safely observe +him from beginning to end of the piece, if they were so minded; +while, profiting by the depth, they could screen themselves +sufficiently well from any counter-examination on his side. He +promised himself not to leave it for a moment out of sight; and +whilst he scanned the rest of the theatre, or made a show of +attending to the business of the stage, he always kept a corner of +an eye upon the empty box. + +The second act had been some time in progress, and was even drawing +towards a close, when the door opened and two persons entered and +ensconced themselves in the darkest of the shade. Francis could +hardly control his emotion. It was Mr. Vandeleur and his daughter. +The blood came and went in his arteries and veins with stunning +activity; his ears sang; his head turned. He dared not look lest +he should awake suspicion; his play-bill, which he kept reading +from end to end and over and over again, turned from white to red +before his eyes; and when he cast a glance upon the stage, it +seemed incalculably far away, and he found the voices and gestures +of the actors to the last degree impertinent and absurd. + +From time to time he risked a momentary look in the direction which +principally interested him; and once at least he felt certain that +his eyes encountered those of the young girl. A shock passed over +his body, and he saw all the colours of the rainbow. What would he +not have given to overhear what passed between the Vandeleurs? +What would he not have given for the courage to take up his opera- +glass and steadily inspect their attitude and expression? There, +for aught he knew, his whole life was being decided - and he not +able to interfere, not able even to follow the debate, but +condemned to sit and suffer where he was, in impotent anxiety. + +At last the act came to an end. The curtain fell, and the people +around him began to leave their places, for the interval. It was +only natural that he should follow their example; and if he did so, +it was not only natural but necessary that he should pass +immediately in front of the box in question. Summoning all his +courage, but keeping his eyes lowered, Francis drew near the spot. +His progress was slow, for the old gentleman before him moved with +incredible deliberation, wheezing as he went. What was he to do? +Should he address the Vandeleurs by name as he went by? Should he +take the flower from his button-hole and throw it into the box? +Should he raise his face and direct one long and affectionate look +upon the lady who was either his sister or his betrothed? As he +found himself thus struggling among so many alternatives, he had a +vision of his old equable existence in the bank, and was assailed +by a thought of regret for the past. + +By this time he had arrived directly opposite the box; and although +he was still undetermined what to do or whether to do anything, he +turned his head and lifted his eyes. No sooner had he done so than +he uttered a cry of disappointment and remained rooted to the spot. +The box was empty. During his slow advance Mr. Vandeleur and his +daughter had quietly slipped away. + +A polite person in his rear reminded him that he was stopping the +path; and he moved on again with mechanical footsteps, and suffered +the crowd to carry him unresisting out of the theatre. Once in the +street, the pressure ceasing, he came to a halt, and the cool night +air speedily restored him to the possession of his faculties. He +was surprised to find that his head ached violently, and that he +remembered not one word of the two acts which he had witnessed. As +the excitement wore away, it was succeeded by an overweening +appetite for sleep, and he hailed a cab and drove to his lodging in +a state of extreme exhaustion and some disgust of life. + +Next morning he lay in wait for Miss Vandeleur on her road to +market, and by eight o'clock beheld her stepping down a lane. She +was simply, and even poorly, attired; but in the carriage of her +head and body there was something flexible and noble that would +have lent distinction to the meanest toilette. Even her basket, so +aptly did she carry it, became her like an ornament. It seemed to +Francis, as he slipped into a doorway, that the sunshine followed +and the shadows fled before her as she walked; and he was +conscious, for the first time, of a bird singing in a cage above +the lane. + +He suffered her to pass the doorway, and then, coming forth once +more, addressed her by name from behind. "Miss Vandeleur," said +he. + +She turned and, when she saw who he was, became deadly pale. + +"Pardon me," he continued; "Heaven knows I had no will to startle +you; and, indeed, there should be nothing startling in the presence +of one who wishes you so well as I do. And, believe me, I am +acting rather from necessity than choice. We have many things in +common, and I am sadly in the dark. There is much that I should be +doing, and my hands are tied. I do not know even what to feel, nor +who are my friends and enemies." + +She found her voice with an effort. + +"I do not know who you are," she said. + +"Ah, yes! Miss Vandeleur, you do," returned Francis "better than I +do myself. Indeed, it is on that, above all, that I seek light. +Tell me what you know," he pleaded. "Tell me who I am, who you +are, and how our destinies are intermixed. Give me a little help +with my life, Miss Vandeleur - only a word or two to guide me, only +the name of my father, if you will - and I shall be grateful and +content." + +"I will not attempt to deceive you," she replied. "I know who you +are, but I am not at liberty to say." + +"Tell me, at least, that you have forgiven my presumption, and I +shall wait with all the patience I have," he said. "If I am not to +know, I must do without. It is cruel, but I can bear more upon a +push. Only do not add to my troubles the thought that I have made +an enemy of you." + +"You did only what was natural," she said, "and I have nothing to +forgive you. Farewell." + +"Is it to be FAREWELL?" he asked. + +"Nay, that I do not know myself," she answered. "Farewell for the +present, if you like." + +And with these words she was gone. + +Francis returned to his lodging in a state of considerable +commotion of mind. He made the most trifling progress with his +Euclid for that forenoon, and was more often at the window than at +his improvised writing-table. But beyond seeing the return of Miss +Vandeleur, and the meeting between her and her father, who was +smoking a Trichinopoli cigar in the verandah, there was nothing +notable in the neighbourhood of the house with the green blinds +before the time of the mid-day meal. The young man hastily allayed +his appetite in a neighbouring restaurant, and returned with the +speed of unallayed curiosity to the house in the Rue Lepic. A +mounted servant was leading a saddle-horse to and fro before the +garden wall; and the porter of Francis's lodging was smoking a pipe +against the door-post, absorbed in contemplation of the livery and +the steeds. + +"Look!" he cried to the young man, "what fine cattle! what an +elegant costume! They belong to the brother of M. de Vandeleur, +who is now within upon a visit. He is a great man, a general, in +your country; and you doubtless know him well by reputation." + +"I confess," returned Francis, "that I have never heard of General +Vandeleur before. We have many officers of that grade, and my +pursuits have been exclusively civil." + +"It is he," replied the porter, "who lost the great diamond of the +Indies. Of that at least you must have read often in the papers." + +As soon as Francis could disengage himself from the porter he ran +upstairs and hurried to the window. Immediately below the clear +space in the chestnut leaves, the two gentlemen were seated in +conversation over a cigar. The General, a red, military-looking +man, offered some traces of a family resemblance to his brother; he +had something of the same features, something, although very +little, of the same free and powerful carriage; but he was older, +smaller, and more common in air; his likeness was that of a +caricature, and he seemed altogether a poor and debile being by the +side of the Dictator. + +They spoke in tones so low, leaning over the table with every +appearance of interest, that Francis could catch no more than a +word or two on an occasion. For as little as he heard, he was +convinced that the conversation turned upon himself and his own +career; several times the name of Scrymgeour reached his ear, for +it was easy to distinguish, and still more frequently he fancied he +could distinguish the name Francis. + +At length the General, as if in a hot anger, broke forth into +several violent exclamations. + +"Francis Vandeleur!" he cried, accentuating the last word. +"Francis Vandeleur, I tell you." + +The Dictator made a movement of his whole body, half affirmative, +half contemptuous, but his answer was inaudible to the young man. + +Was he the Francis Vandeleur in question? he wondered. Were they +discussing the name under which he was to be married? Or was the +whole affair a dream and a delusion of his own conceit and self- +absorption? + +After another interval of inaudible talk, dissension seemed again +to arise between the couple underneath the chestnut, and again the +General raised his voice angrily so as to be audible to Francis. + +"My wife?" he cried. "I have done with my wife for good. I will +not hear her name. I am sick of her very name." + +And he swore aloud and beat the table with his fist. + +The Dictator appeared, by his gestures, to pacify him after a +paternal fashion; and a little after he conducted him to the +garden-gate. The pair shook hands affectionately enough; but as +soon as the door had closed behind his visitor, John Vandeleur fell +into a fit of laughter which sounded unkindly and even devilish in +the ears of Francis Scrymgeour. + +So another day had passed, and little more learnt. But the young +man remembered that the morrow was Tuesday, and promised himself +some curious discoveries; all might be well, or all might be ill; +he was sure, at least, to glean some curious information, and, +perhaps, by good luck, get at the heart of the mystery which +surrounded his father and his family. + +As the hour of the dinner drew near many preparations were made in +the garden of the house with the green blinds. That table which +was partly visible to Francis through the chestnut leaves was +destined to serve as a sideboard, and carried relays of plates and +the materials for salad: the other, which was almost entirely +concealed, had been set apart for the diners, and Francis could +catch glimpses of white cloth and silver plate. + +Mr. Rolles arrived, punctual to the minute; he looked like a man +upon his guard, and spoke low and sparingly. The Dictator, on the +other hand, appeared to enjoy an unusual flow of spirits; his +laugh, which was youthful and pleasant to hear, sounded frequently +from the garden; by the modulation and the changes of his voice it +was obvious that he told many droll stories and imitated the +accents of a variety of different nations; and before he and the +young clergyman had finished their vermouth all feeling of distrust +was at an end, and they were talking together like a pair of school +companions. + +At length Miss Vandeleur made her appearance, carrying the soup- +tureen. Mr. Rolles ran to offer her assistance which she +laughingly refused; and there was an interchange of pleasantries +among the trio which seemed to have reference to this primitive +manner of waiting by one of the company. + +"One is more at one's ease," Mr. Vandeleur was heard to declare. + +Next moment they were all three in their places, and Francis could +see as little as he could hear of what passed. But the dinner +seemed to go merrily; there was a perpetual babble of voices and +sound of knives and forks below the chestnut; and Francis, who had +no more than a roll to gnaw, was affected with envy by the comfort +and deliberation of the meal. The party lingered over one dish +after another, and then over a delicate dessert, with a bottle of +old wine carefully uncorked by the hand of the Dictator himself. +As it began to grow dark a lamp was set upon the table and a couple +of candles on the sideboard; for the night was perfectly pure, +starry, and windless. Light overflowed besides from the door and +window in the verandah, so that the garden was fairly illuminated +and the leaves twinkled in the darkness. + +For perhaps the tenth time Miss Vandeleur entered the house; and on +this occasion she returned with the coffee-tray, which she placed +upon the sideboard. At the same moment her father rose from his +seat. + +"The coffee is my province," Francis heard him say. + +And next moment he saw his supposed father standing by the +sideboard in the light of the candles. + +Talking over his shoulder all the while, Mr. Vandeleur poured out +two cups of the brown stimulant, and then, by a rapid act of +prestidigitation, emptied the contents of a tiny phial into the +smaller of the two. The thing was so swiftly done that even +Francis, who looked straight into his face, had hardly time to +perceive the movement before it was completed. And next instant, +and still laughing, Mr. Vandeleur had turned again towards the +table with a cup in either hand. + +"Ere we have done with this," said he, "we may expect our famous +Hebrew." + +It would be impossible to depict the confusion and distress of +Francis Scrymgeour. He saw foul play going forward before his +eyes, and he felt bound to interfere, but knew not how. It might +be a mere pleasantry, and then how should he look if he were to +offer an unnecessary warning? Or again, if it were serious, the +criminal might be his own father, and then how should he not lament +if he were to bring ruin on the author of his days? For the first +time he became conscious of his own position as a spy. To wait +inactive at such a juncture and with such a conflict of sentiments +in his bosom was to suffer the most acute torture; he clung to the +bars of the shutters, his heart beat fast and with irregularity, +and he felt a strong sweat break forth upon his body. + +Several minutes passed. + +He seemed to perceive the conversation die away and grow less and +less in vivacity and volume; but still no sign of any alarming or +even notable event. + +Suddenly the ring of a glass breaking was followed by a faint and +dull sound, as of a person who should have fallen forward with his +head upon the table. At the same moment a piercing scream rose +from the garden. + +"What have you done?" cried Miss Vandeleur. "He is dead!" + +The Dictator replied in a violent whisper, so strong and sibilant +that every word was audible to the watcher at the window. + +"Silence!' said Mr. Vandeleur; "the man is as well as I am. Take +him by the heels whilst I carry him by the shoulders." + +Francis heard Miss Vandeleur break forth into a passion of tears. + +"Do you hear what I say?" resumed the Dictator, in the same tones. +"Or do you wish to quarrel with me? I give you your choice, Miss +Vandeleur." + +There was another pause, and the Dictator spoke again. + +"Take that man by the heels," he said. "I must have him brought +into the house. If I were a little younger, I could help myself +against the world. But now that years and dangers are upon me and +my hands are weakened, I must turn to you for aid." + +"It is a crime," replied the girl. + +"I am your father," said Mr. Vandeleur. + +This appeal seemed to produce its effect. A scuffling noise +followed upon the gravel, a chair was overset, and then Francis saw +the father and daughter stagger across the walk and disappear under +the verandah, bearing the inanimate body of Mr. Rolles embraced +about the knees and shoulders. The young clergyman was limp and +pallid, and his head rolled upon his shoulders at every step. + +Was he alive or dead? Francis, in spite of the Dictator's +declaration, inclined to the latter view. A great crime had been +committed; a great calamity had fallen upon the inhabitants of the +house with the green blinds. To his surprise, Francis found all +horror for the deed swallowed up in sorrow for a girl and an old +man whom he judged to be in the height of peril. A tide of +generous feeling swept into his heart; he, too, would help his +father against man and mankind, against fate and justice; and +casting open the shutters he closed his eyes and threw himself with +out-stretched arms into the foliage of the chestnut. + +Branch after branch slipped from his grasp or broke under his +weight; then he caught a stalwart bough under his armpit, and hung +suspended for a second; and then he let himself drop and fell +heavily against the table. A cry of alarm from the house warned +him that his entrance had not been effected unobserved. He +recovered himself with a stagger, and in three bounds crossed the +intervening space and stood before the door in the verandah. + +In a small apartment, carpeted with matting and surrounded by +glazed cabinets full of rare and costly curios, Mr. Vandeleur was +stooping over the body of Mr. Rolles. He raised himself as Francis +entered, and there was an instantaneous passage of hands. It was +the business of a second; as fast as an eye can wink the thing was +done; the young man had not the time to be sure, but it seemed to +him as if the Dictator had taken something from the curate's +breast, looked at it for the least fraction of time as it lay in +his hand, and then suddenly and swiftly passed it to his daughter. + +All this was over while Francis had still one foot upon the +threshold, and the other raised in air. The next instant he was on +his knees to Mr. Vandeleur. + +"Father!" he cried. "Let me too help you. I will do what you wish +and ask no questions; I will obey you with my life; treat me as a +son, and you will find I have a son's devotion." + +A deplorable explosion of oaths was the Dictator's first reply. + +"Son and father?" he cried. "Father and son? What d-d unnatural +comedy is all this? How do you come in my garden? What do you +want? And who, in God's name, are you?" + +Francis, with a stunned and shamefaced aspect, got upon his feet +again, and stood in silence. + +Then a light seemed to break upon Mr. Vandeleur, and he laughed +aloud + +"I see," cried he. "It is the Scrymgeour. Very well, Mr. +Scrymgeour. Let me tell you in a few words how you stand. You +have entered my private residence by force, or perhaps by fraud, +but certainly with no encouragement from me; and you come at a +moment of some annoyance, a guest having fainted at my table, to +besiege me with your protestations. You are no son of mine. You +are my brother's bastard by a fishwife, if you want to know. I +regard you with an indifference closely bordering on aversion; and +from what I now see of your conduct, I judge your mind to be +exactly suitable to your exterior. I recommend you these +mortifying reflections for your leisure; and, in the meantime, let +me beseech you to rid us of your presence. If I were not +occupied," added the Dictator, with a terrifying oath, "I should +give you the unholiest drubbing ere you went!" + +Francis listened in profound humiliation. He would have fled had +it been possible; but as he had no means of leaving the residence +into which he had so unfortunately penetrated, he could do no more +than stand foolishly where he was. + +It was Miss Vandeleur who broke the silence. + +"Father," she said, "you speak in anger. Mr. Scrymgeour may have +been mistaken, but he meant well and kindly." + +"Thank you for speaking," returned the Dictator. "You remind me of +some other observations which I hold it a point of honour to make +to Mr. Scrymgeour. My brother," he continued, addressing the young +man, "has been foolish enough to give you an allowance; he was +foolish enough and presumptuous enough to propose a match between +you and this young lady. You were exhibited to her two nights ago; +and I rejoice to tell you that she rejected the idea with disgust. +Let me add that I have considerable influence with your father; and +it shall not be my fault if you are not beggared of your allowance +and sent back to your scrivening ere the week be out." + +The tones of the old man's voice were, if possible, more wounding +than his language; Francis felt himself exposed to the most cruel, +blighting, and unbearable contempt; his head turned, and he covered +his face with his hands, uttering at the same time a tearless sob +of agony. But Miss Vandeleur once again interfered in his behalf. + +"Mr. Scrymgeour," she said, speaking in clear and even tones, "you +must not be concerned at my father's harsh expressions. I felt no +disgust for you; on the contrary, I asked an opportunity to make +your better acquaintance. As for what has passed to-night, believe +me it has filled my mind with both pity and esteem." + +Just then Mr. Rolles made a convulsive movement with his arm, which +convinced Francis that he was only drugged, and was beginning to +throw off the influence of the opiate. Mr. Vandeleur stooped over +him and examined his face for an instant. + +"Come, come!" cried he, raising his head. "Let there be an end of +this. And since you are so pleased with his conduct, Miss +Vandeleur, take a candle and show the bastard out." + +The young lady hastened to obey. + +"Thank you," said Francis, as soon as he was alone with her in the +garden. "I thank you from my soul. This has been the bitterest +evening of my life, but it will have always one pleasant +recollection." + +"I spoke as I felt," she replied, "and in justice to you. It made +my heart sorry that you should be so unkindly used." + +By this time they had reached the garden gate; and Miss Vandeleur, +having set the candle on the ground, was already unfastening the +bolts. + +"One word more," said Francis. "This is not for the last time - I +shall see you again, shall I not?" + +"Alas!" she answered. "You have heard my father. What can I do +but obey?" + +"Tell me at least that it is not with your consent," returned +Francis; "tell me that you have no wish to see the last of me." + +"Indeed," replied she, "I have none. You seem to me both brave and +honest." + +"Then," said Francis, "give me a keepsake." + +She paused for a moment, with her hand upon the key; for the +various bars and bolts were all undone, and there was nothing left +but to open the lock. + +"If I agree," she said, "will you promise to do as I tell you from +point to point?" + +"Can you ask?" replied Francis. "I would do so willingly on your +bare word." + +She turned the key and threw open the door. + +"Be it so," said she. "You do not know what you ask, but be it so. +Whatever you hear," she continued, "whatever happens, do not return +to this house; hurry fast until you reach the lighted and populous +quarters of the city; even there be upon your guard. You are in a +greater danger than you fancy. Promise me you will not so much as +look at my keepsake until you are in a place of safety." + +"I promise," replied Francis. + +She put something loosely wrapped in a handkerchief into the young +man's hand; and at the same time, with more strength than he could +have anticipated, she pushed him into the street. + +"Now, run!" she cried. + +He heard the door close behind him, and the noise of the bolts +being replaced. + +"My faith," said he, "since I have promised!" + +And he took to his heels down the lane that leads into the Rue +Ravignan. + +He was not fifty paces from the house with the green blinds when +the most diabolical outcry suddenly arose out of the stillness of +the night. Mechanically he stood still; another passenger followed +his example; in the neighbouring floors he saw people crowding to +the windows; a conflagration could not have produced more +disturbance in this empty quarter. And yet it seemed to be all the +work of a single man, roaring between grief and rage, like a +lioness robbed of her whelps; and Francis was surprised and alarmed +to hear his own name shouted with English imprecations to the wind. + +His first movement was to return to the house; his second, as he +remembered Miss Vandeleur's advice, to continue his flight with +greater expedition than before; and he was in the act of turning to +put his thought in action, when the Dictator, bareheaded, bawling +aloud, his white hair blowing about his head, shot past him like a +ball out of the cannon's mouth, and went careering down the street. + +"That was a close shave," thought Francis to himself. "What he +wants with me, and why he should be so disturbed, I cannot think; +but he is plainly not good company for the moment, and I cannot do +better than follow Miss Vandeleur's advice." + +So saying, he turned to retrace his steps, thinking to double and +descend by the Rue Lepic itself while his pursuer should continue +to follow after him on the other line of street. The plan was ill- +devised: as a matter of fact, he should have taken his seat in the +nearest cafe, and waited there until the first heat of the pursuit +was over. But besides that Francis had no experience and little +natural aptitude for the small war of private life, he was so +unconscious of any evil on his part, that he saw nothing to fear +beyond a disagreeable interview. And to disagreeable interviews he +felt he had already served his apprenticeship that evening; nor +could he suppose that Miss Vandeleur had left anything unsaid. +Indeed, the young man was sore both in body and mind - the one was +all bruised, the other was full of smarting arrows; and he owned to +himself that Mr. Vandeleur was master of a very deadly tongue. + +The thought of his bruises reminded him that he had not only come +without a hat, but that his clothes had considerably suffered in +his descent through the chestnut. At the first magazine he +purchased a cheap wideawake, and had the disorder of his toilet +summarily repaired. The keepsake, still rolled in the +handkerchief, he thrust in the meanwhile into his trousers pocket. + +Not many steps beyond the shop he was conscious of a sudden shock, +a hand upon his throat, an infuriated face close to his own, and an +open mouth bawling curses in his ear. The Dictator, having found +no trace of his quarry, was returning by the other way. Francis +was a stalwart young fellow; but he was no match for his adversary +whether in strength or skill; and after a few ineffectual struggles +he resigned himself entirely to his captor. + +"What do you want with me?" said he. + +"We will talk of that at home," returned the Dictator grimly. + +And he continued to march the young man up hill in the direction of +the house with the green blinds. + +But Francis, although he no longer struggled, was only waiting an +opportunity to make a bold push for freedom. With a sudden jerk he +left the collar of his coat in the hands of Mr. Vandeleur, and once +more made off at his best speed in the direction of the Boulevards. + +The tables were now turned. If the Dictator was the stronger, +Francis, in the top of his youth, was the more fleet of foot, and +he had soon effected his escape among the crowds. Relieved for a +moment, but with a growing sentiment of alarm and wonder in his +mind, be walked briskly until he debauched upon the Place de +l'Opera, lit up like day with electric lamps. + +"This, at least," thought he, "should satisfy Miss Vandeleur." + +And turning to his right along the Boulevards, he entered the Cafe +Americain and ordered some beer. It was both late and early for +the majority of the frequenters of the establishment. Only two or +three persons, all men, were dotted here and there at separate +tables in the hall; and Francis was too much occupied by his own +thoughts to observe their presence. + +He drew the handkerchief from his pocket. The object wrapped in it +proved to be a morocco case, clasped and ornamented in gilt, which +opened by means of a spring, and disclosed to the horrified young +man a diamond of monstrous bigness and extraordinary brilliancy. +The circumstance was so inexplicable, the value of the stone was +plainly so enormous, that Francis sat staring into the open casket +without movement, without conscious thought, like a man stricken +suddenly with idiocy. + +A hand was laid upon his shoulder, lightly but firmly, and a quiet +voice, which yet had in it the ring of command, uttered these words +in his ear - + +"Close the casket, and compose your face." + +Looking up, he beheld a man, still young, of an urbane and tranquil +presence, and dressed with rich simplicity. This personage had +risen from a neighbouring table, and, bringing his glass with him, +had taken a seat beside Francis. + +"Close the casket," repeated the stranger, "and put it quietly back +into your pocket, where I feel persuaded it should never have been. +Try, if you please, to throw off your bewildered air, and act as +though I were one of your acquaintances whom you had met by chance. +So! Touch glasses with me. That is better. I fear, sir, you must +be an amateur." + +And the stranger pronounced these last words with a smile of +peculiar meaning, leaned back in his seat and enjoyed a deep +inhalation of tobacco. + +"For God's sake," said Francis, "tell me who you are and what this +means? Why I should obey your most unusual suggestions I am sure I +know not; but the truth is, I have fallen this evening into so many +perplexing adventures, and all I meet conduct themselves so +strangely, that I think I must either have gone mad or wandered +into another planet. Your face inspires me with confidence; you +seem wise, good, and experienced; tell me, for heaven's sake, why +you accost me in so odd a fashion?" + +"All in due time," replied the stranger. "But I have the first +hand, and you must begin by telling me how the Rajah's Diamond is +in your possession." + +"The Rajah's Diamond!" echoed Francis. + +"I would not speak so loud, if I were you," returned the other. +"But most certainly you have the Rajah's Diamond in your pocket. I +have seen and handled it a score of times in Sir Thomas Vandeleur's +collection." + +"Sir Thomas Vandeleur! The General! My father!" cried Francis. + +"Your father?" repeated the stranger. "I was not aware the General +had any family." + +"I am illegitimate, sir," replied Francis, with a flush. + +The other bowed with gravity. It was a respectful bow, as of a man +silently apologising to his equal; and Francis felt relieved and +comforted, he scarce knew why. The society of this person did him +good; he seemed to touch firm ground; a strong feeling of respect +grew up in his bosom, and mechanically he removed his wideawake as +though in the presence of a superior. + +"I perceive," said the stranger, "that your adventures have not all +been peaceful. Your collar is torn, your face is scratched, you +have a cut upon your temple; you will, perhaps, pardon my curiosity +when I ask you to explain how you came by these injuries, and how +you happen to have stolen property to an enormous value in your +pocket." + +"I must differ from you!" returned Francis hotly. "I possess no +stolen property. And if you refer to the diamond, it was given to +me not an hour ago by Miss Vandeleur in the Rue Lepic." + +"By Miss Vandeleur of the Rue Lepic!" repeated the other. "You +interest me more than you suppose. Pray continue." + +"Heavens!" cried Francis. + +His memory had made a sudden bound. He had seen Mr. Vandeleur take +an article from the breast of his drugged visitor, and that +article, he was now persuaded, was a morocco case. + +"You have a light?" inquired the stranger. + +"Listen," replied Francis. "I know not who you are, but I believe +you to be worthy of confidence and helpful; I find myself in +strange waters; I must have counsel and support, and since you +invite me I shall tell you all." + +And he briefly recounted his experiences since the day when he was +summoned from the bank by his lawyer. + +"Yours is indeed a remarkable history," said the stranger, after +the young man had made an end of his narrative; "and your position +is full of difficulty and peril. Many would counsel you to seek +out your father, and give the diamond to him; but I have other +views. Waiter!" he cried. + +The waiter drew near. + +"Will you ask the manager to speak with me a moment?" said he; and +Francis observed once more, both in his tone and manner, the +evidence of a habit of command. + +The waiter withdrew, and returned in a moment with manager, who +bowed with obsequious respect. + +"What," said he, "can I do to serve you?" + +"Have the goodness," replied the stranger, indicating Francis, "to +tell this gentleman my name." + +"You have the honour, sir," said the functionary, addressing young +Scrymgeour, "to occupy the same table with His Highness Prince +Florizel of Bohemia." + +Francis rose with precipitation, and made a grateful reverence to +the Prince, who bade him resume his seat. + +"I thank you," said Florizel, once more addressing the functionary; +"I am sorry to have deranged you for so small a matter." + +And he dismissed him with a movement of his hand. + +"And now," added the Prince, turning to Francis, "give me the +diamond." + +Without a word the casket was handed over. + +"You have done right," said Florizel, "your sentiments have +properly inspired you, and you will live to be grateful for the +misfortunes of to-night. A man, Mr. Scrymgeour, may fall into a +thousand perplexities, but if his heart be upright and his +intelligence unclouded, he will issue from them all without +dishonour. Let your mind be at rest; your affairs are in my hand; +and with the aid of heaven I am strong enough to bring them to a +good end. Follow me, if you please, to my carriage." + +So saying the Prince arose and, having left a piece of gold for the +waiter, conducted the young man from the cafe and along the +Boulevard to where an unpretentious brougham and a couple of +servants out of livery awaited his arrival. + +"This carriage," said he, "is at your disposal; collect your +baggage as rapidly as you can make it convenient, and my servants +will conduct you to a villa in the neighbourhood of Paris where you +can wait in some degree of comfort until I have had time to arrange +your situation. You will find there a pleasant garden, a library +of good authors, a cook, a cellar, and some good cigars, which I +recommend to your attention. Jerome," he added, turning to one of +the servants, "you have heard what I say; I leave Mr. Scrymgeour in +your charge; you will, I know, be careful of my friend." + +Francis uttered some broken phrases of gratitude. + +"It will be time enough to thank me," said the Prince, "when you +are acknowledged by your father and married to Miss Vandeleur." + +And with that the Prince turned away and strolled leisurely in the +direction of Montmartre. He hailed the first passing cab, gave an +address, and a quarter of an hour afterwards, having discharged the +driver some distance lower, he was knocking at Mr. Vandeleur's +garden gate. + +It was opened with singular precautions by the Dictator in person. + +"Who are you?" he demanded. + +"You must pardon me this late visit, Mr. Vandeleur," replied the +Prince. + +"Your Highness is always welcome," returned Mr. Vandeleur, stepping +back. + +The Prince profited by the open space, and without waiting for his +host walked right into the house and opened the door of the SALON. +Two people were seated there; one was Miss Vandeleur, who bore the +marks of weeping about her eyes, and was still shaken from time to +time by a sob; in the other the Prince recognised the young man who +had consulted him on literary matters about a month before, in a +club smoking-room. + +"Good evening, Miss Vandeleur," said Florizel; "you look fatigued. +Mr. Rolles, I believe? I hope you have profited by the study of +Gaboriau, Mr. Rolles." + +But the young clergyman's temper was too much embittered for +speech; and he contented himself with bowing stiffly, and continued +to gnaw his lip. + +"To what good wind," said Mr. Vandeleur, following his guest, "am I +to attribute the honour of your Highness's presence?" + +"I am come on business," returned the Prince; "on business with +you; as soon as that is settled I shall request Mr. Rolles to +accompany me for a walk. Mr. Rolles," he added with severity, "let +me remind you that I have not yet sat down." + +The clergyman sprang to his feet with an apology; whereupon the +Prince took an armchair beside the table, handed his hat to Mr. +Vandeleur, his cane to Mr. Rolles, and, leaving them standing and +thus menially employed upon his service, spoke as follows:- + +"I have come here, as I said, upon business; but, had I come +looking for pleasure, I could not have been more displeased with my +reception nor more dissatisfied with my company. You, sir," +addressing Mr. Rolles, "you have treated your superior in station +with discourtesy; you, Vandeleur, receive me with a smile, but you +know right well that your hands are not yet cleansed from +misconduct. I do not desire to be interrupted, sir," he added +imperiously; "I am here to speak, and not to listen; and I have to +ask you to hear me with respect, and to obey punctiliously. At the +earliest possible date your daughter shall be married at the +Embassy to my friend, Francis Scrymgeour, your brother's +acknowledged son. You will oblige me by offering not less than ten +thousand pounds dowry. For yourself, I will indicate to you in +writing a mission of some importance in Siam which I destine to +your care. And now, sir, you will answer me in two words whether +or not you agree to these conditions." + +"Your Highness will pardon me," said Mr. Vandeleur, "and permit me, +with all respect, to submit to him two queries?" + +"The permission is granted," replied the Prince. + +"Your Highness," resumed the Dictator, "has called Mr. Scrymgeour +his friend. Believe me, had I known he was thus honoured, I should +have treated him with proportional respect." + +"You interrogate adroitly," said the Prince; "but it will not serve +your turn. You have my commands; if I had never seen that +gentleman before to-night, it would not render them less absolute." + +"Your Highness interprets my meaning with his usual subtlety," +returned Vandeleur. "Once more: I have, unfortunately, put the +police upon the track of Mr. Scrymgeour on a charge of theft; am I +to withdraw or to uphold the accusation?" + +"You will please yourself," replied Florizel. "The question is one +between your conscience and the laws of this land. Give me my hat; +and you, Mr. Rolles, give me my cane and follow me. Miss +Vandeleur, I wish you good evening. I judge," he added to +Vandeleur, "that your silence means unqualified assent." + +"If I can do no better," replied the old man, "I shall submit; but +I warn you openly it shall not be without a struggle." + +"You are old," said the Prince; "but years are disgraceful to the +wicked. Your age is more unwise than the youth of others. Do not +provoke me, or you may find me harder than you dream. This is the +first time that I have fallen across your path in anger; take care +that it be the last." + +With these words, motioning the clergyman to follow, Florizel left +the apartment and directed his steps towards the garden gate; and +the Dictator, following with a candle, gave them light, and once +more undid the elaborate fastenings with which he sought to protect +himself from intrusion. + +"Your daughter is no longer present," said the Prince, turning on +the threshold. "Let me tell you that I understand your threats; +and you have only to lift your hand to bring upon yourself sudden +and irremediable ruin." + +The Dictator made no reply; but as the Prince turned his back upon +him in the lamplight he made a gesture full of menace and insane +fury; and the next moment, slipping round a corner, he was running +at full speed for the nearest cab-stand. + + +(Here, says my Arabian, the thread of events is finally diverted +from THE HOUSE WITH THE GREEN BLINDS. One more adventure, he adds, +and we have done with THE RAJAH'S DIAMOND. That last link in the +chain is known among the inhabitants of Bagdad by the name of THE +ADVENTURE OF PRINCE FLORIZEL AND A DETECTIVE.) + + + +THE ADVENTURE OF PRINCE FLORIZEL AND A DETECTIVE + + + +Prince Florizel walked with Mr. Rolles to the door of a small hotel +where the latter resided. They spoke much together, and the +clergyman was more than once affected to tears by the mingled +severity and tenderness of Florizel's reproaches. + +"I have made ruin of my life," he said at last. "Help me; tell me +what I am to do; I have, alas! neither the virtues of a priest nor +the dexterity of a rogue." + +"Now that you are humbled," said the Prince, "I command no longer; +the repentant have to do with God and not with princes. But if you +will let me advise you, go to Australia as a colonist, seek menial +labour in the open air, and try to forget that you have ever been a +clergyman, or that you ever set eyes on that accursed stone." + +"Accurst indeed!" replied Mr. Rolles. "Where is it now? What +further hurt is it not working for mankind?" + +"It will do no more evil," returned the Prince. "It is here in my +pocket. And this," he added kindly, "will show that I place some +faith in your penitence, young as it is." + +"Suffer me to touch your hand," pleaded Mr. Rolles. + +"No," replied Prince Florizel, "not yet." + +The tone in which he uttered these last words was eloquent in the +ears of the young clergyman; and for some minutes after the Prince +had turned away he stood on the threshold following with his eyes +the retreating figure and invoking the blessing of heaven upon a +man so excellent in counsel. + +For several hours the Prince walked alone in unfrequented streets. +His mind was full of concern; what to do with the diamond, whether +to return it to its owner, whom he judged unworthy of this rare +possession, or to take some sweeping and courageous measure and put +it out of the reach of all mankind at once and for ever, was a +problem too grave to be decided in a moment. The manner in which +it had come into his hands appeared manifestly providential; and as +he took out the jewel and looked at it under the street lamps, its +size and surprising brilliancy inclined him more and more to think +of it as of an unmixed and dangerous evil for the world. + +"God help me!" he thought; "if I look at it much oftener, I shall +begin to grow covetous myself." + +At last, though still uncertain in his mind, he turned his steps +towards the small but elegant mansion on the river-side which had +belonged for centuries to his royal family. The arms of Bohemia +are deeply graved over the door and upon the tall chimneys; +passengers have a look into a green court set with the most costly +flowers, and a stork, the only one in Paris, perches on the gable +all day long and keeps a crowd before the house. Grave servants +are seen passing to and fro within; and from time to time the great +gate is thrown open and a carriage rolls below the arch. For many +reasons this residence was especially dear to the heart of Prince +Florizel; he never drew near to it without enjoying that sentiment +of home-coming so rare in the lives of the great; and on the +present evening he beheld its tall roof and mildly illuminated +windows with unfeigned relief and satisfaction. + +As he was approaching the postern door by which he always entered +when alone, a man stepped forth from the shadow and presented +himself with an obeisance in the Prince's path. + +"I have the honour of addressing Prince Florizel of Bohemia?" said +he. + +"Such is my title," replied the Prince. "What do you want with +me?" + +"I am," said the man, "a detective, and I have to present your +Highness with this billet from the Prefect of Police." + +The Prince took the letter and glanced it through by the light of +the street lamp. It was highly apologetic, but requested him to +follow the bearer to the Prefecture without delay. + +"In short," said Florizel, "I am arrested." + +"Your Highness," replied the officer, "nothing, I am certain, could +be further from the intention of the Prefect. You will observe +that he has not granted a warrant. It is mere formality, or call +it, if you prefer, an obligation that your Highness lays on the +authorities." + +"At the same time," asked the Prince, "if I were to refuse to +follow you?" + +"I will not conceal from your Highness that a considerable +discretion has been granted me," replied the detective with a bow. + +"Upon my word," cried Florizel, "your effrontery astounds me! +Yourself, as an agent, I must pardon; but your superiors shall +dearly smart for their misconduct. What, have you any idea, is the +cause of this impolitic and unconstitutional act? You will observe +that I have as yet neither refused nor consented, and much may +depend on your prompt and ingenuous answer. Let me remind you, +officer, that this is an affair of some gravity." + +"Your Highness," said the detective humbly, "General Vandeleur and +his brother have had the incredible presumption to accuse you of +theft. The famous diamond, they declare, is in your hands. A word +from you in denial will most amply satisfy the Prefect; nay, I go +farther: if your Highness would so far honour a subaltern as to +declare his ignorance of the matter even to myself, I should ask +permission to retire upon the spot." + +Florizel, up to the last moment, had regarded his adventure in the +light of a trifle, only serious upon international considerations. +At the name of Vandeleur the horrible truth broke upon him in a +moment; he was not only arrested, but he was guilty. This was not +only an annoying incident - it was a peril to his honour. What was +he to say? What was he to do? The Rajah's Diamond was indeed an +accursed stone; and it seemed as if he were to be the last victim +to its influence. + +One thing was certain. He could not give the required assurance to +the detective. He must gain time. + +His hesitation had not lasted a second. + +"Be it so," said he, "let us walk together to the Prefecture." + +The man once more bowed, and proceeded to follow Florizel at a +respectful distance in the rear. + +"Approach," said the Prince. "I am in a humour to talk, and, if I +mistake not, now I look at you again, this is not the first time +that we have met." + +"I count it an honour," replied the officer, "that your Highness +should recollect my face. It is eight years since I had the +pleasure of an interview." + +"To remember faces," returned Florizel, "is as much a part of my +profession as it is of yours. Indeed, rightly looked upon, a +Prince and a detective serve in the same corps. We are both +combatants against crime; only mine is the more lucrative and yours +the more dangerous rank, and there is a sense in which both may be +made equally honourable to a good man. I had rather, strange as +you may think it, be a detective of character and parts than a weak +and ignoble sovereign." + +The officer was overwhelmed. + +"Your Highness returns good for evil," said he. "To an act of +presumption he replies by the most amiable condescension." + +"How do you know," replied Florizel, "that I am not seeking to +corrupt you?" + +"Heaven preserve me from the temptation!" cried the detective. + +"I applaud your answer," returned the Prince. "It is that of a +wise and honest man. The world is a great place and stocked with +wealth and beauty, and there is no limit to the rewards that may be +offered. Such an one who would refuse a million of money may sell +his honour for an empire or the love of a woman; and I myself, who +speak to you, have seen occasions so tempting, provocations so +irresistible to the strength of human virtue, that I have been glad +to tread in your steps and recommend myself to the grace of God. +It is thus, thanks to that modest and becoming habit alone," he +added, "that you and I can walk this town together with untarnished +hearts." + +"I had always heard that you were brave," replied the officer, "but +I was not aware that you were wise and pious. You speak the truth, +and you speak it with an accent that moves me to the heart. This +world is indeed a place of trial." + +"We are now," said Florizel, "in the middle of the bridge. Lean +your elbows on the parapet and look over. As the water rushing +below, so the passions and complications of life carry away the +honesty of weak men. Let me tell you a story." + +"I receive your Highness's commands," replied the man. + +And, imitating the Prince, he leaned against the parapet, and +disposed himself to listen. The city was already sunk in slumber; +had it not been for the infinity of lights and the outline of +buildings on the starry sky, they might have been alone beside some +country river. + +"An officer," began Prince Florizel, "a man of courage and conduct, +who had already risen by merit to an eminent rank, and won not only +admiration but respect, visited, in an unfortunate hour for his +peace of mind, the collections of an Indian Prince. Here he beheld +a diamond so extraordinary for size and beauty that from that +instant he had only one desire in life: honour, reputation, +friendship, the love of country, he was ready to sacrifice all for +this lump of sparkling crystal. For three years he served this +semi-barbarian potentate as Jacob served Laban; he falsified +frontiers, he connived at murders, he unjustly condemned and +executed a brother-officer who had the misfortune to displease the +Rajah by some honest freedoms; lastly, at a time of great danger to +his native land, he betrayed a body of his fellow-soldiers, and +suffered them to be defeated and massacred by thousands. In the +end, he had amassed a magnificent fortune, and brought home with +him the coveted diamond. + +"Years passed," continued the Prince, "and at length the diamond is +accidentally lost. It falls into the hands of a simple and +laborious youth, a student, a minister of God, just entering on a +career of usefulness and even distinction. Upon him also the spell +is cast; he deserts everything, his holy calling, his studies, and +flees with the gem into a foreign country. The officer has a +brother, an astute, daring, unscrupulous man, who learns the +clergyman's secret. What does he do? Tell his brother, inform the +police? No; upon this man also the Satanic charm has fallen; he +must have the stone for himself. At the risk of murder, he drugs +the young priest and seizes the prey. And now, by an accident +which is not important to my moral, the jewel passes out of his +custody into that of another, who, terrified at what he sees, gives +it into the keeping of a man in high station and above reproach. + +"The officer's name is Thomas Vandeleur," continued Florizel. "The +stone is called the Rajah's Diamond. And" - suddenly opening his +hand - "you behold it here before your eyes." + +The officer started back with a cry. + +"We have spoken of corruption," said the Prince. "To me this +nugget of bright crystal is as loathsome as though it were crawling +with the worms of death; it is as shocking as though it were +compacted out of innocent blood. I see it here in my hand, and I +know it is shining with hell-fire. I have told you but a hundredth +part of its story; what passed in former ages, to what crimes and +treacheries it incited men of yore, the imagination trembles to +conceive; for years and years it has faithfully served the powers +of hell; enough, I say, of blood, enough of disgrace, enough of +broken lives and friendships; all things come to an end, the evil +like the good; pestilence as well as beautiful music; and as for +this diamond, God forgive me if I do wrong, but its empire ends to- +night." + +The Prince made a sudden movement with his hand, and the jewel, +describing an arc of light, dived with a splash into the flowing +river. + +"Amen," said Florizel with gravity. "I have slain a cockatrice!" + +"God pardon me!" cried the detective. "What have you done? I am a +ruined man." + +"I think," returned the Prince with a smile, "that many well-to-do +people in this city might envy you your ruin." + +"Alas! your Highness!" said the officer, "and you corrupt me after +all?" + +"It seems there was no help for it," replied Florizel. "And now +let us go forward to the Prefecture." + + +Not long after, the marriage of Francis Scrymgeour and Miss +Vandeleur was celebrated in great privacy; and the Prince acted on +that occasion as groomsman. The two Vandeleurs surprised some +rumour of what had happened to the diamond; and their vast diving +operations on the River Seine are the wonder and amusement of the +idle. It is true that through some miscalculation they have chosen +the wrong branch of the river. As for the Prince, that sublime +person, having now served his turn, may go, along with the ARABIAN +AUTHOR, topsy-turvy into space. But if the reader insists on more +specific information, I am happy to say that a recent revolution +hurled him from the throne of Bohemia, in consequence of his +continued absence and edifying neglect of public business; and that +his Highness now keeps a cigar store in Rupert Street, much +frequented by other foreign refugees. I go there from time to time +to smoke and have a chat, and find him as great a creature as in +the days of his prosperity; he has an Olympian air behind the +counter; and although a sedentary life is beginning to tell upon +his waistcoat, he is probably, take him for all in all, the +handsomest tobacconist in London. + + + + +THE PAVILION ON THE LINKS + + + + +CHAPTER I - TELLS HOW I CAMPED IN GRADEN SEA-WOOD, AND BEHELD A +LIGHT IN THE PAVILION + + + +I was a great solitary when I was young. I made it my pride to +keep aloof and suffice for my own entertainment; and I may say that +I had neither friends nor acquaintances until I met that friend who +became my wife and the mother of my children. With one man only +was I on private terms; this was R. Northmour, Esquire, of Graden +Easter, in Scotland. We had met at college; and though there was +not much liking between us, nor even much intimacy, we were so +nearly of a humour that we could associate with ease to both. +Misanthropes, we believed ourselves to be; but I have thought since +that we were only sulky fellows. It was scarcely a companionship, +but a coexistence in unsociability. Northmour's exceptional +violence of temper made it no easy affair for him to keep the peace +with any one but me; and as he respected my silent ways, and let me +come and go as I pleased, I could tolerate his presence without +concern. I think we called each other friends. + +When Northmour took his degree and I decided to leave the +university without one, he invited me on a long visit to Graden +Easter; and it was thus that I first became acquainted with the +scene of my adventures. The mansion-house of Graden stood in a +bleak stretch of country some three miles from the shore of the +German Ocean. It was as large as a barrack; and as it had been +built of a soft stone, liable to consume in the eager air of the +seaside, it was damp and draughty within and half ruinous without. +It was impossible for two young men to lodge with comfort in such a +dwelling. But there stood in the northern part of the estate, in a +wilderness of links and blowing sand-hills, and between a +plantation and the sea, a small Pavilion or Belvidere, of modern +design, which was exactly suited to our wants; and in this +hermitage, speaking little, reading much, and rarely associating +except at meals, Northmour and I spent four tempestuous winter +months. I might have stayed longer; but one March night there +sprang up between us a dispute, which rendered my departure +necessary. Northmour spoke hotly, I remember, and I suppose I must +have made some tart rejoinder. He leaped from his chair and +grappled me; I had to fight, without exaggeration, for my life; and +it was only with a great effort that I mastered him, for he was +near as strong in body as myself, and seemed filled with the devil. +The next morning, we met on our usual terms; but I judged it more +delicate to withdraw; nor did he attempt to dissuade me. + +It was nine years before I revisited the neighbourhood. I +travelled at that time with a tilt cart, a tent, and a cooking- +stove, tramping all day beside the waggon, and at night, whenever +it was possible, gipsying in a cove of the hills, or by the side of +a wood. I believe I visited in this manner most of the wild and +desolate regions both in England and Scotland; and, as I had +neither friends nor relations, I was troubled with no +correspondence, and had nothing in the nature of headquarters, +unless it was the office of my solicitors, from whom I drew my +income twice a year. It was a life in which I delighted; and I +fully thought to have grown old upon the march, and at last died in +a ditch. + +It was my whole business to find desolate corners, where I could +camp without the fear of interruption; and hence, being in another +part of the same shire, I bethought me suddenly of the Pavilion on +the Links. No thoroughfare passed within three miles of it. The +nearest town, and that was but a fisher village, was at a distance +of six or seven. For ten miles of length, and from a depth varying +from three miles to half a mile, this belt of barren country lay +along the sea. The beach, which was the natural approach, was full +of quicksands. Indeed I may say there is hardly a better place of +concealment in the United Kingdom. I determined to pass a week in +the Sea-Wood of Graden Easter, and making a long stage, reached it +about sundown on a wild September day. + +The country, I have said, was mixed sand-hill and links; LINKS +being a Scottish name for sand which has ceased drifting and become +more or less solidly covered with turf. The Pavilion stood on an +even space; a little behind it, the wood began in a hedge of elders +huddled together by the wind; in front, a few tumbled sand-hills +stood between it and the sea. An outcropping of rock had formed a +bastion for the sand, so that there was here a promontory in the +coast-line between two shallow bays; and just beyond the tides, the +rock again cropped out and formed an islet of small dimensions but +strikingly designed. The quicksands were of great extent at low +water, and had an infamous reputation in the country. Close in +shore, between the islet and the promontory, it was said they would +swallow a man in four minutes and a half; but there may have been +little ground for this precision. The district was alive with +rabbits, and haunted by gulls which made a continual piping about +the pavilion. On summer days the outlook was bright and even +gladsome; but at sundown in September, with a high wind, and a +heavy surf rolling in close along the links, the place told of +nothing but dead mariners and sea disaster. A ship beating to +windward on the horizon, and a huge truncheon of wreck half buried +in the sands at my feet, completed the innuendo of the scene. + +The pavilion - it had been built by the last proprietor, +Northmour's uncle, a silly and prodigal virtuoso - presented little +signs of age. It was two storeys in height, Italian in design, +surrounded by a patch of garden in which nothing had prospered but +a few coarse flowers; and looked, with its shuttered windows, not +like a house that had been deserted, but like one that had never +been tenanted by man. Northmour was plainly from home; whether, as +usual, sulking in the cabin of his yacht, or in one of his fitful +and extravagant appearances in the world of society, I had, of +course, no means of guessing. The place had an air of solitude +that daunted even a solitary like myself; the wind cried in the +chimneys with a strange and wailing note; and it was with a sense +of escape, as if I were going indoors, that I turned away and, +driving my cart before me, entered the skirts of the wood. + +The Sea-Wood of Graden had been planted to shelter the cultivated +fields behind, and check the encroachments of the blowing sand. As +you advanced into it from coastward, elders were succeeded by other +hardy shrubs; but the timber was all stunted and bushy; it led a +life of conflict; the trees were accustomed to swing there all +night long in fierce winter tempests; and even in early spring, the +leaves were already flying, and autumn was beginning, in this +exposed plantation. Inland the ground rose into a little hill, +which, along with the islet, served as a sailing mark for seamen. +When the hill was open of the islet to the north, vessels must bear +well to the eastward to clear Graden Ness and the Graden Bullers. +In the lower ground, a streamlet ran among the trees, and, being +dammed with dead leaves and clay of its own carrying, spread out +every here and there, and lay in stagnant pools. One or two ruined +cottages were dotted about the wood; and, according to Northmour, +these were ecclesiastical foundations, and in their time had +sheltered pious hermits. + +I found a den, or small hollow, where there was a spring of pure +water; and there, clearing away the brambles, I pitched the tent, +and made a fire to cook my supper. My horse I picketed farther in +the wood where there was a patch of sward. The banks of the den +not only concealed the light of my fire, but sheltered me from the +wind, which was cold as well as high. + +The life I was leading made me both hardy and frugal. I never +drank but water, and rarely ate anything more costly than oatmeal; +and I required so little sleep, that, although I rose with the peep +of day, I would often lie long awake in the dark or starry watches +of the night. Thus in Graden Sea-Wood, although I fell thankfully +asleep by eight in the evening I was awake again before eleven with +a full possession of my faculties, and no sense of drowsiness or +fatigue. I rose and sat by the fire, watching the trees and clouds +tumultuously tossing and fleeing overhead, and hearkening to the +wind and the rollers along the shore; till at length, growing weary +of inaction, I quitted the den, and strolled towards the borders of +the wood. A young moon, buried in mist, gave a faint illumination +to my steps; and the light grew brighter as I walked forth into the +links. At the same moment, the wind, smelling salt of the open +ocean and carrying particles of sand, struck me with its full +force, so that I had to bow my head. + +When I raised it again to look about me, I was aware of a light in +the pavilion. It was not stationary; but passed from one window to +another, as though some one were reviewing the different apartments +with a lamp or candle. + +I watched it for some seconds in great surprise. When I had +arrived in the afternoon the house had been plainly deserted; now +it was as plainly occupied. It was my first idea that a gang of +thieves might have broken in and be now ransacking Northmour's +cupboards, which were many and not ill supplied. But what should +bring thieves to Graden Easter? And, again, all the shutters had +been thrown open, and it would have been more in the character of +such gentry to close them. I dismissed the notion, and fell back +upon another. Northmour himself must have arrived, and was now +airing and inspecting the pavilion. + +I have said that there was no real affection between this man and +me; but, had I loved him like a brother, I was then so much more in +love with solitude that I should none the less have shunned his +company. As it was, I turned and ran for it; and it was with +genuine satisfaction that I found myself safely back beside the +fire. I had escaped an acquaintance; I should have one more night +in comfort. In the morning, I might either slip away before +Northmour was abroad, or pay him as short a visit as I chose. + +But when morning came, I thought the situation so diverting that I +forgot my shyness. Northmour was at my mercy; I arranged a good +practical jest, though I knew well that my neighbour was not the +man to jest with in security; and, chuckling beforehand over its +success, took my place among the elders at the edge of the wood, +whence I could command the door of the pavilion. The shutters were +all once more closed, which I remember thinking odd; and the house, +with its white walls and green venetians, looked spruce and +habitable in the morning light. Hour after hour passed, and still +no sign of Northmour. I knew him for a sluggard in the morning; +but, as it drew on towards noon, I lost my patience. To say the +truth, I had promised myself to break my fast in the pavilion, and +hunger began to prick me sharply. It was a pity to let the +opportunity go by without some cause for mirth; but the grosser +appetite prevailed, and I relinquished my jest with regret, and +sallied from the wood. + +The appearance of the house affected me, as I drew near, with +disquietude. It seemed unchanged since last evening; and I had +expected it, I scarce knew why, to wear some external signs of +habitation. But no: the windows were all closely shuttered, the +chimneys breathed no smoke, and the front door itself was closely +padlocked. Northmour, therefore, had entered by the back; this was +the natural and, indeed, the necessary conclusion; and you may +judge of my surprise when, on turning the house, I found the back +door similarly secured. + +My mind at once reverted to the original theory of thieves; and I +blamed myself sharply for my last night's inaction. I examined all +the windows on the lower storey, but none of them had been tampered +with; I tried the padlocks, but they were both secure. It thus +became a problem how the thieves, if thieves they were, had managed +to enter the house. They must have got, I reasoned, upon the roof +of the outhouse where Northmour used to keep his photographic +battery; and from thence, either by the window of the study or that +of my old bedroom, completed their burglarious entry. + +I followed what I supposed was their example; and, getting on the +roof, tried the shutters of each room. Both were secure; but I was +not to be beaten; and, with a little force, one of them flew open, +grazing, as it did so, the back of my hand. I remember, I put the +wound to my mouth, and stood for perhaps half a minute licking it +like a dog, and mechanically gazing behind me over the waste links +and the sea; and, in that space of time, my eye made note of a +large schooner yacht some miles to the north-east. Then I threw up +the window and climbed in. + +I went over the house, and nothing can express my mystification. +There was no sign of disorder, but, on the contrary, the rooms were +unusually clean and pleasant. I found fires laid, ready for +lighting; three bedrooms prepared with a luxury quite foreign to +Northmour's habits, and with water in the ewers and the beds turned +down; a table set for three in the dining-room; and an ample supply +of cold meats, game, and vegetables on the pantry shelves. There +were guests expected, that was plain; but why guests, when +Northmour hated society? And, above all, why was the house thus +stealthily prepared at dead of night? and why were the shutters +closed and the doors padlocked? + +I effaced all traces of my visit, and came forth from the window +feeling sobered and concerned. + +The schooner yacht was still in the same place; and it flashed for +a moment through my mind that this might be the RED EARL bringing +the owner of the pavilion and his guests. But the vessel's head +was set the other way. + + + +CHAPTER II - TELLS OF THE NOCTURNAL LANDING FROM THE YACHT + + + +I returned to the den to cook myself a meal, of which I stood in +great need, as well as to care for my horse, whom I had somewhat +neglected in the morning. From time to time I went down to the +edge of the wood; but there was no change in the pavilion, and not +a human creature was seen all day upon the links. The schooner in +the offing was the one touch of life within my range of vision. +She, apparently with no set object, stood off and on or lay to, +hour after hour; but as the evening deepened, she drew steadily +nearer. I became more convinced that she carried Northmour and his +friends, and that they would probably come ashore after dark; not +only because that was of a piece with the secrecy of the +preparations, but because the tide would not have flowed +sufficiently before eleven to cover Graden Floe and the other sea +quags that fortified the shore against invaders. + +All day the wind had been going down, and the sea along with it; +but there was a return towards sunset of the heavy weather of the +day before. The night set in pitch dark. The wind came off the +sea in squalls, like the firing of a battery of cannon; now and +then there was a flaw of rain, and the surf rolled heavier with the +rising tide. I was down at my observatory among the elders, when a +light was run up to the masthead of the schooner, and showed she +was closer in than when I had last seen her by the dying daylight. +I concluded that this must be a signal to Northmour's associates on +shore; and, stepping forth into the links, looked around me for +something in response. + +A small footpath ran along the margin of the wood, and formed the +most direct communication between the pavilion and the mansion- +house; and, as I cast my eyes to that side, I saw a spark of light, +not a quarter of a mile away, and rapidly approaching. From its +uneven course it appeared to be the light of a lantern carried by a +person who followed the windings of the path, and was often +staggered and taken aback by the more violent squalls. I concealed +myself once more among the elders, and waited eagerly for the +newcomer's advance. It proved to be a woman; and, as she passed +within half a rod of my ambush, I was able to recognise the +features. The deaf and silent old dame, who had nursed Northmour +in his childhood, was his associate in this underhand affair. + +I followed her at a little distance, taking advantage of the +innumerable heights and hollows, concealed by the darkness, and +favoured not only by the nurse's deafness, but by the uproar of the +wind and surf. She entered the pavilion, and, going at once to the +upper storey, opened and set a light in one of the windows that +looked towards the sea. Immediately afterwards the light at the +schooner's masthead was run down and extinguished. Its purpose had +been attained, and those on board were sure that they were +expected. The old woman resumed her preparations; although the +other shutters remained closed, I could see a glimmer going to and +fro about the house; and a gush of sparks from one chimney after +another soon told me that the fires were being kindled. + +Northmour and his guests, I was now persuaded, would come ashore as +soon as there was water on the floe. It was a wild night for boat +service; and I felt some alarm mingle with my curiosity as I +reflected on the danger of the landing. My old acquaintance, it +was true, was the most eccentric of men; but the present +eccentricity was both disquieting and lugubrious to consider. A +variety of feelings thus led me towards the beach, where I lay flat +on my face in a hollow within six feet of the track that led to the +pavilion. Thence, I should have the satisfaction of recognising +the arrivals, and, if they should prove to be acquaintances, +greeting them as soon as they had landed. + +Some time before eleven, while the tide was still dangerously low, +a boat's lantern appeared close in shore; and, my attention being +thus awakened, I could perceive another still far to seaward, +violently tossed, and sometimes hidden by the billows. The +weather, which was getting dirtier as the night went on, and the +perilous situation of the yacht upon a lee shore, had probably +driven them to attempt a landing at the earliest possible moment. + +A little afterwards, four yachtsmen carrying a very heavy chest, +and guided by a fifth with a lantern, passed close in front of me +as I lay, and were admitted to the pavilion by the nurse. They +returned to the beach, and passed me a second time with another +chest, larger but apparently not so heavy as the first. A third +time they made the transit; and on this occasion one of the +yachtsmen carried a leather portmanteau, and the others a lady's +trunk and carriage bag. My curiosity was sharply excited. If a +woman were among the guests of Northmour, it would show a change in +his habits and an apostasy from his pet theories of life, well +calculated to fill me with surprise. When he and I dwelt there +together, the pavilion had been a temple of misogyny. And now, one +of the detested sex was to be installed under its roof. I +remembered one or two particulars, a few notes of daintiness and +almost of coquetry which had struck me the day before as I surveyed +the preparations in the house; their purpose was now clear, and I +thought myself dull not to have perceived it from the first. + +While I was thus reflecting, a second lantern drew near me from the +beach. It was carried by a yachtsman whom I had not yet seen, and +who was conducting two other persons to the pavilion. These two +persons were unquestionably the guests for whom the house was made +ready; and, straining eye and ear, I set myself to watch them as +they passed. One was an unusually tall man, in a travelling hat +slouched over his eyes, and a highland cape closely buttoned and +turned up so as to conceal his face. You could make out no more of +him than that he was, as I have said, unusually tall, and walked +feebly with a heavy stoop. By his side, and either clinging to him +or giving him support - I could not make out which - was a young, +tall, and slender figure of a woman. She was extremely pale; but +in the light of the lantern her face was so marred by strong and +changing shadows, that she might equally well have been as ugly as +sin or as beautiful as I afterwards found her to be. + +When they were just abreast of me, the girl made some remark which +was drowned by the noise of the wind. + +"Hush!" said her companion; and there was something in the tone +with which the word was uttered that thrilled and rather shook my +spirits. It seemed to breathe from a bosom labouring under the +deadliest terror; I have never heard another syllable so +expressive; and I still hear it again when I am feverish at night, +and my mind runs upon old times. The man turned towards the girl +as he spoke; I had a glimpse of much red beard and a nose which +seemed to have been broken in youth; and his light eyes seemed +shining in his face with some strong and unpleasant emotion. + +But these two passed on and were admitted in their turn to the +pavilion. + +One by one, or in groups, the seamen returned to the beach. The +wind brought me the sound of a rough voice crying, "Shove off!" +Then, after a pause, another lantern drew near. It was Northmour +alone. + +My wife and I, a man and a woman, have often agreed to wonder how a +person could be, at the same time, so handsome and so repulsive as +Northmour. He had the appearance of a finished gentleman; his face +bore every mark of intelligence and courage; but you had only to +look at him, even in his most amiable moment, to see that he had +the temper of a slaver captain. I never knew a character that was +both explosive and revengeful to the same degree; he combined the +vivacity of the south with the sustained and deadly hatreds of the +north; and both traits were plainly written on his face, which was +a sort of danger signal. In person he was tall, strong, and +active; his hair and complexion very dark; his features handsomely +designed, but spoiled by a menacing expression. + +At that moment he was somewhat paler than by nature; he wore a +heavy frown; and his lips worked, and he looked sharply round him +as he walked, like a man besieged with apprehensions. And yet I +thought he had a look of triumph underlying all, as though he had +already done much, and was near the end of an achievement. + +Partly from a scruple of delicacy - which I dare say came too late +- partly from the pleasure of startling an acquaintance, I desired +to make my presence known to him without delay. + +I got suddenly to my feet, and stepped forward. "Northmour!" said +I. + +I have never had so shocking a surprise in all my days. He leaped +on me without a word; something shone in his hand; and he struck +for my heart with a dagger. At the same moment I knocked him head +over heels. Whether it was my quickness, or his own uncertainty, I +know not; but the blade only grazed my shoulder, while the hilt and +his fist struck me violently on the mouth. + +I fled, but not far. I had often and often observed the +capabilities of the sand-hills for protracted ambush or stealthy +advances and retreats; and, not ten yards from the scene of the +scuffle, plumped down again upon the grass. The lantern had fallen +and gone out. But what was my astonishment to see Northmour slip +at a bound into the pavilion, and hear him bar the door behind him +with a clang of iron! + +He had not pursued me. He had run away. Northmour, whom I knew +for the most implacable and daring of men, had run away! I could +scarce believe my reason; and yet in this strange business, where +all was incredible, there was nothing to make a work about in an +incredibility more or less. For why was the pavilion secretly +prepared? Why had Northmour landed with his guests at dead of +night, in half a gale of wind, and with the floe scarce covered? +Why had he sought to kill me? Had he not recognised my voice? I +wondered. And, above all, how had he come to have a dagger ready +in his hand? A dagger, or even a sharp knife, seemed out of +keeping with the age in which we lived; and a gentleman landing +from his yacht on the shore of his own estate, even although it was +at night and with some mysterious circumstances, does not usually, +as a matter of fact, walk thus prepared for deadly onslaught. The +more I reflected, the further I felt at sea. I recapitulated the +elements of mystery, counting them on my fingers: the pavilion +secretly prepared for guests; the guests landed at the risk of +their lives and to the imminent peril of the yacht; the guests, or +at least one of them, in undisguised and seemingly causeless +terror; Northmour with a naked weapon; Northmour stabbing his most +intimate acquaintance at a word; last, and not least strange, +Northmour fleeing from the man whom he had sought to murder, and +barricading himself, like a hunted creature, behind the door of the +pavilion. Here were at least six separate causes for extreme +surprise; each part and parcel with the others, and forming all +together one consistent story. I felt almost ashamed to believe my +own senses. + +As I thus stood, transfixed with wonder, I began to grow painfully +conscious of the injuries I had received in the scuffle; skulked +round among the sand-hills; and, by a devious path, regained the +shelter of the wood. On the way, the old nurse passed again within +several yards of me, still carrying her lantern, on the return +journey to the mansion-house of Graden. This made a seventh +suspicious feature in the case - Northmour and his guests, it +appeared, were to cook and do the cleaning for themselves, while +the old woman continued to inhabit the big empty barrack among the +policies. There must surely be great cause for secrecy, when so +many inconveniences were confronted to preserve it. + +So thinking, I made my way to the den. For greater security, I +trod out the embers of the fire, and lit my lantern to examine the +wound upon my shoulder. It was a trifling hurt, although it bled +somewhat freely, and I dressed it as well as I could (for its +position made it difficult to reach) with some rag and cold water +from the spring. While I was thus busied, I mentally declared war +against Northmour and his mystery. I am not an angry man by +nature, and I believe there was more curiosity than resentment in +my heart. But war I certainly declared; and, by way of +preparation, I got out my revolver, and, having drawn the charges, +cleaned and reloaded it with scrupulous care. Next I became +preoccupied about my horse. It might break loose, or fall to +neighing, and so betray my camp in the Sea-Wood. I determined to +rid myself of its neighbourhood; and long before dawn I was leading +it over the links in the direction of the fisher village. + + + +CHAPTER III - TELLS HOW I BECAME ACQUAINTED WITH MY WIFE + + + +For two days I skulked round the pavilion, profiting by the uneven +surface of the links. I became an adept in the necessary tactics. +These low hillocks and shallow dells, running one into another, +became a kind of cloak of darkness for my enthralling, but perhaps +dishonourable, pursuit. Yet, in spite of this advantage, I could +learn but little of Northmour or his guests. + +Fresh provisions were brought under cover of darkness by the old +woman from the mansion-house. Northmour, and the young lady, +sometimes together, but more often singly, would walk for an hour +or two at a time on the beach beside the quicksand. I could not +but conclude that this promenade was chosen with an eye to secrecy; +for the spot was open only to the seaward. But it suited me not +less excellently; the highest and most accidented of the sand-hills +immediately adjoined; and from these, lying flat in a hollow, I +could overlook Northmour or the young lady as they walked. + +The tall man seemed to have disappeared. Not only did he never +cross the threshold, but he never so much as showed face at a +window; or, at least, not so far as I could see; for I dared not +creep forward beyond a certain distance in the day, since the upper +floor commanded the bottoms of the links; and at night, when I +could venture farther, the lower windows were barricaded as if to +stand a siege. Sometimes I thought the tall man must be confined +to bed, for I remembered the feebleness of his gait; and sometimes +I thought he must have gone clear away, and that Northmour and the +young lady remained alone together in the pavilion. The idea, even +then, displeased me. + +Whether or not this pair were man and wife, I had seen abundant +reason to doubt the friendliness of their relation. Although I +could hear nothing of what they said, and rarely so much as glean a +decided expression on the face of either, there was a distance, +almost a stiffness, in their bearing which showed them to be either +unfamiliar or at enmity. The girl walked faster when she was with +Northmour than when she was alone; and I conceived that any +inclination between a man and a woman would rather delay than +accelerate the step. Moreover, she kept a good yard free of him, +and trailed her umbrella, as if it were a barrier, on the side +between them. Northmour kept sidling closer; and, as the girl +retired from his advance, their course lay at a sort of diagonal +across the beach, and would have landed them in the surf had it +been long enough continued. But, when this was imminent, the girl +would unostentatiously change sides and put Northmour between her +and the sea. I watched these manoeuvres, for my part, with high +enjoyment and approval, and chuckled to myself at every move. + +On the morning of the third day, she walked alone for some time, +and I perceived, to my great concern, that she was more than once +in tears. You will see that my heart was already interested more +than I supposed. She had a firm yet airy motion of the body, and +carried her head with unimaginable grace; every step was a thing to +look at, and she seemed in my eyes to breathe sweetness and +distinction. + +The day was so agreeable, being calm and sunshiny, with a tranquil +sea, and yet with a healthful piquancy and vigour in the air, that, +contrary to custom, she was tempted forth a second time to walk. +On this occasion she was accompanied by Northmour, and they had +been but a short while on the beach, when I saw him take forcible +possession of her hand. She struggled, and uttered a cry that was +almost a scream. I sprang to my feet, unmindful of my strange +position; but, ere I had taken a step, I saw Northmour bareheaded +and bowing very low, as if to apologise; and dropped again at once +into my ambush. A few words were interchanged; and then, with +another bow, he left the beach to return to the pavilion. He +passed not far from me, and I could see him, flushed and lowering, +and cutting savagely with his cane among the grass. It was not +without satisfaction that I recognised my own handiwork in a great +cut under his right eye, and a considerable discolouration round +the socket. + +For some time the girl remained where he had left her, looking out +past the islet and over the bright sea. Then with a start, as one +who throws off preoccupation and puts energy again upon its mettle, +she broke into a rapid and decisive walk. She also was much +incensed by what had passed. She had forgotten where she was. And +I beheld her walk straight into the borders of the quicksand where +it is most abrupt and dangerous. Two or three steps farther and +her life would have been in serious jeopardy, when I slid down the +face of the sand-hill, which is there precipitous, and, running +half-way forward, called to her to stop. + +She did so, and turned round. There was not a tremor of fear in +her behaviour, and she marched directly up to me like a queen. I +was barefoot, and clad like a common sailor, save for an Egyptian +scarf round my waist; and she probably took me at first for some +one from the fisher village, straying after bait. As for her, when +I thus saw her face to face, her eyes set steadily and imperiously +upon mine, I was filled with admiration and astonishment, and +thought her even more beautiful than I had looked to find her. Nor +could I think enough of one who, acting with so much boldness, yet +preserved a maidenly air that was both quaint and engaging; for my +wife kept an old-fashioned precision of manner through all her +admirable life - an excellent thing in woman, since it sets another +value on her sweet familiarities. + +"What does this mean?" she asked. + +"You were walking," I told her, "directly into Graden Floe." + +"You do not belong to these parts," she said again. "You speak +like an educated man." + +"I believe I have right to that name," said I, "although in this +disguise." + +But her woman's eye had already detected the sash. "Oh!" she said; +"your sash betrays you." + +"You have said the word BETRAY," I resumed. "May I ask you not to +betray me? I was obliged to disclose myself in your interest; but +if Northmour learned my presence it might be worse than +disagreeable for me." + +"Do you know," she asked, "to whom you are speaking?" + +"Not to Mr. Northmour's wife?" I asked, by way of answer. + +She shook her head. All this while she was studying my face with +an embarrassing intentness. Then she broke out - + +"You have an honest face. Be honest like your face, sir, and tell +me what you want and what you are afraid of. Do you think I could +hurt you? I believe you have far more power to injure me! And yet +you do not look unkind. What do you mean - you, a gentleman - by +skulking like a spy about this desolate place? Tell me," she said, +"who is it you hate?" + +"I hate no one," I answered; "and I fear no one face to face. My +name is Cassilis - Frank Cassilis. I lead the life of a vagabond +for my own good pleasure. I am one of Northmour's oldest friends; +and three nights ago, when I addressed him on these links, he +stabbed me in the shoulder with a knife." + +"It was you!" she said. + +"Why he did so," I continued, disregarding the interruption, "is +more than I can guess, and more than I care to know. I have not +many friends, nor am I very susceptible to friendship; but no man +shall drive me from a place by terror. I had camped in Graden Sea- +Wood ere he came; I camp in it still. If you think I mean harm to +you or yours, madam, the remedy is in your hand. Tell him that my +camp is in the Hemlock Den, and to-night he can stab me in safety +while I sleep." + +With this I doffed my cap to her, and scrambled up once more among +the sand-hills. I do not know why, but I felt a prodigious sense +of injustice, and felt like a hero and a martyr; while, as a matter +of fact, I had not a word to say in my defence, nor so much as one +plausible reason to offer for my conduct. I had stayed at Graden +out of a curiosity natural enough, but undignified; and though +there was another motive growing in along with the first, it was +not one which, at that period, I could have properly explained to +the lady of my heart. + +Certainly, that night, I thought of no one else; and, though her +whole conduct and position seemed suspicious, I could not find it +in my heart to entertain a doubt of her integrity. I could have +staked my life that she was clear of blame, and, though all was +dark at the present, that the explanation of the mystery would show +her part in these events to be both right and needful. It was +true, let me cudgel my imagination as I pleased, that I could +invent no theory of her relations to Northmour; but I felt none the +less sure of my conclusion because it was founded on instinct in +place of reason, and, as I may say, went to sleep that night with +the thought of her under my pillow. + +Next day she came out about the same hour alone, and, as soon as +the sand-hills concealed her from the pavilion, drew nearer to the +edge, and called me by name in guarded tones. I was astonished to +observe that she was deadly pale, and seemingly under the influence +of strong emotion. + +"Mr. Cassilis!" she cried; "Mr. Cassilis!" + +I appeared at once, and leaped down upon the beach. A remarkable +air of relief overspread her countenance as soon as she saw me. + +"Oh!" she cried, with a hoarse sound, like one whose bosom has been +lightened of a weight. And then, "Thank God you are still safe!" +she added; "I knew, if you were, you would be here." (Was not this +strange? So swiftly and wisely does Nature prepare our hearts for +these great life-long intimacies, that both my wife and I had been +given a presentiment on this the second day of our acquaintance. I +had even then hoped that she would seek me; she had felt sure that +she would find me.) "Do not," she went, on swiftly, "do not stay +in this place. Promise me that you will sleep no longer in that +wood. You do not know how I suffer; all last night I could not +sleep for thinking of your peril." + +"Peril?" I repeated. "Peril from whom? From Northmour?" + +"Not so," she said. "Did you think I would tell him after what you +said?" + +"Not from Northmour?" I repeated. "Then how? From whom? I see +none to be afraid of." + +"You must not ask me," was her reply, "for I am not free to tell +you. Only believe me, and go hence - believe me, and go away +quickly, quickly, for your life!" + +An appeal to his alarm is never a good plan to rid oneself of a +spirited young man. My obstinacy was but increased by what she +said, and I made it a point of honour to remain. And her +solicitude for my safety still more confirmed me in the resolve. + +"You must not think me inquisitive, madam," I replied; "but, if +Graden is so dangerous a place, you yourself perhaps remain here at +some risk." + +She only looked at me reproachfully. + +"You and your father - " I resumed; but she interrupted me almost +with a gasp. + +"My father! How do you know that?" she cried. + +"I saw you together when you landed," was my answer; and I do not +know why, but it seemed satisfactory to both of us, as indeed it +was the truth. "But," I continued, "you need have no fear from me. +I see you have some reason to be secret, and, you may believe me, +your secret is as safe with me as if I were in Graden Floe. I have +scarce spoken to any one for years; my horse is my only companion, +and even he, poor beast, is not beside me. You see, then, you may +count on me for silence. So tell me the truth, my dear young lady, +are you not in danger?" + +"Mr. Northmour says you are an honourable man," she returned, "and +I believe it when I see you. I will tell you so much; you are +right; we are in dreadful, dreadful danger, and you share it by +remaining where you are." + +"Ah!" said I; "you have heard of me from Northmour? And he gives +me a good character?" + +"I asked him about you last night," was her reply. "I pretended," +she hesitated, "I pretended to have met you long ago, and spoken to +you of him. It was not true; but I could not help myself without +betraying you, and you had put me in a difficulty. He praised you +highly." + +"And - you may permit me one question - does this danger come from +Northmour?" I asked. + +"From Mr. Northmour?" she cried. "Oh no; he stays with us to share +it." + +"While you propose that I should run away?" I said. "You do not +rate me very high." + +"Why should you stay?" she asked. "You are no friend of ours." + +I know not what came over me, for I had not been conscious of a +similar weakness since I was a child, but I was so mortified by +this retort that my eyes pricked and filled with tears, as I +continued to gaze upon her face. + +"No, no," she said, in a changed voice; "I did not mean the words +unkindly." + +"It was I who offended," I said; and I held out my hand with a look +of appeal that somehow touched her, for she gave me hers at once, +and even eagerly. I held it for awhile in mine, and gazed into her +eyes. It was she who first tore her hand away, and, forgetting all +about her request and the promise she had sought to extort, ran at +the top of her speed, and without turning, till she was out of +sight. + +And then I knew that I loved her, and thought in my glad heart that +she - she herself - was not indifferent to my suit. Many a time +she has denied it in after days, but it was with a smiling and not +a serious denial. For my part, I am sure our hands would not have +lain so closely in each other if she had not begun to melt to me +already. And, when all is said, it is no great contention, since, +by her own avowal, she began to love me on the morrow. + +And yet on the morrow very little took place. She came and called +me down as on the day before, upbraided me for lingering at Graden, +and, when she found I was still obdurate, began to ask me more +particularly as to my arrival. I told her by what series of +accidents I had come to witness their disembarkation, and how I had +determined to remain, partly from the interest which had been +wakened in me by Northmour's guests, and partly because of his own +murderous attack. As to the former, I fear I was disingenuous, and +led her to regard herself as having been an attraction to me from +the first moment that I saw her on the links. It relieves my heart +to make this confession even now, when my wife is with God, and +already knows all things, and the honesty of my purpose even in +this; for while she lived, although it often pricked my conscience, +I had never the hardihood to undeceive her. Even a little secret, +in such a married life as ours, is like the rose-leaf which kept +the Princess from her sleep. + +From this the talk branched into other subjects, and I told her +much about my lonely and wandering existence; she, for her part, +giving ear, and saying little. Although we spoke very naturally, +and latterly on topics that might seem indifferent, we were both +sweetly agitated. Too soon it was time for her to go; and we +separated, as if by mutual consent, without shaking hands, for both +knew that, between us, it was no idle ceremony. + +The next, and that was the fourth day of our acquaintance, we met +in the same spot, but early in the morning, with much familiarity +and yet much timidity on either side. When she had once more +spoken about my danger - and that, I understood, was her excuse for +coming - I, who had prepared a great deal of talk during the night, +began to tell her how highly I valued her kind interest, and how no +one had ever cared to hear about my life, nor had I ever cared to +relate it, before yesterday. Suddenly she interrupted me, saying +with vehemence - + +"And yet, if you knew who I was, you would not so much as speak to +me!" + +I told her such a thought was madness, and, little as we had met, I +counted her already a dear friend; but my protestations seemed only +to make her more desperate. + +"My father is in hiding!" she cried. + +"My dear," I said, forgetting for the first time to add "young +lady," "what do I care? If he were in hiding twenty times over, +would it make one thought of change in you?" + +"Ah, but the cause!" she cried, "the cause! It is - " she faltered +for a second - "it is disgraceful to us!" + + + +CHAPTER IV - TELLS IN WHAT A STARTLING MANNER I LEARNED THAT I WAS +NOT ALONE IN GRADEN SEA-WOOD + + + +This was my wife's story, as I drew it from her among tears and +sobs. Her name was Clara Huddlestone: it sounded very beautiful +in my ears; but not so beautiful as that other name of Clara +Cassilis, which she wore during the longer and, I thank God, the +happier portion of her life. Her father, Bernard Huddlestone, had +been a private banker in a very large way of business. Many years +before, his affairs becoming disordered, he had been led to try +dangerous, and at last criminal, expedients to retrieve himself +from ruin. All was in vain; he became more and more cruelly +involved, and found his honour lost at the same moment with his +fortune. About this period, Northmour had been courting his +daughter with great assiduity, though with small encouragement; and +to him, knowing him thus disposed in his favour, Bernard +Huddlestone turned for help in his extremity. It was not merely +ruin and dishonour, nor merely a legal condemnation, that the +unhappy man had brought upon his head. It seems he could have gone +to prison with a light heart. What he feared, what kept him awake +at night or recalled him from slumber into frenzy, was some secret, +sudden, and unlawful attempt upon his life. Hence, he desired to +bury his existence and escape to one of the islands in the South +Pacific, and it was in Northmour's yacht, the RED EARL, that he +designed to go. The yacht picked them up clandestinely upon the +coast of Wales, and had once more deposited them at Graden, till +she could be refitted and provisioned for the longer voyage. Nor +could Clara doubt that her hand had been stipulated as the price of +passage. For, although Northmour was neither unkind nor even +discourteous, he had shown himself in several instances somewhat +overbold in speech and manner. + +I listened, I need not say, with fixed attention, and put many +questions as to the more mysterious part. It was in vain. She had +no clear idea of what the blow was, nor of how it was expected to +fall. Her father's alarm was unfeigned and physically prostrating, +and he had thought more than once of making an unconditional +surrender to the police. But the scheme was finally abandoned, for +he was convinced that not even the strength of our English prisons +could shelter him from his pursuers. He had had many affairs with +Italy, and with Italians resident in London, in the later years of +his business; and these last, as Clara fancied, were somehow +connected with the doom that threatened him. He had shown great +terror at the presence of an Italian seaman on board the RED EARL, +and had bitterly and repeatedly accused Northmour in consequence. +The latter had protested that Beppo (that was the seaman's name) +was a capital fellow, and could be trusted to the death; but Mr. +Huddlestone had continued ever since to declare that all was lost, +that it was only a question of days, and that Beppo would be the +ruin of him yet. + +I regarded the whole story as the hallucination of a mind shaken by +calamity. He had suffered heavy loss by his Italian transactions; +and hence the sight of an Italian was hateful to him, and the +principal part in his nightmare would naturally enough be played by +one of that nation. + +"What your father wants," I said, "is a good doctor and some +calming medicine." + +"But Mr. Northmour?" objected your mother. "He is untroubled by +losses, and yet he shares in this terror." + +I could not help laughing at what I considered her simplicity. + +"My dear," said I, "you have told me yourself what reward he has to +look for. All is fair in love, you must remember; and if Northmour +foments your father's terrors, it is not at all because he is +afraid of any Italian man, but simply because he is infatuated with +a charming English woman." + +She reminded me of his attack upon myself on the night of the +disembarkation, and this I was unable to explain. In short, and +from one thing to another, it was agreed between us, that I should +set out at once for the fisher village, Graden Wester, as it was +called, look up all the newspapers I could find, and see for myself +if there seemed any basis of fact for these continued alarms. The +next morning, at the same hour and place, I was to make my report +to Clara. She said no more on that occasion about my departure; +nor, indeed, did she make it a secret that she clung to the thought +of my proximity as something helpful and pleasant; and, for my +part, I could not have left her, if she had gone upon her knees to +ask it. + +I reached Graden Wester before ten in the forenoon; for in those +days I was an excellent pedestrian, and the distance, as I think I +have said, was little over seven miles; fine walking all the way +upon the springy turf. The village is one of the bleakest on that +coast, which is saying much: there is a church in a hollow; a +miserable haven in the rocks, where many boats have been lost as +they returned from fishing; two or three score of stone houses +arranged along the beach and in two streets, one leading from the +harbour, and another striking out from it at right angles; and, at +the corner of these two, a very dark and cheerless tavern, by way +of principal hotel. + +I had dressed myself somewhat more suitably to my station in life, +and at once called upon the minister in his little manse beside the +graveyard. He knew me, although it was more than nine years since +we had met; and when I told him that I had been long upon a walking +tour, and was behind with the news, readily lent me an armful of +newspapers, dating from a month back to the day before. With these +I sought the tavern, and, ordering some breakfast, sat down to +study the "Huddlestone Failure." + +It had been, it appeared, a very flagrant case. Thousands of +persons were reduced to poverty; and one in particular had blown +out his brains as soon as payment was suspended. It was strange to +myself that, while I read these details, I continued rather to +sympathise with Mr. Huddlestone than with his victims; so complete +already was the empire of my love for my wife. A price was +naturally set upon the banker's head; and, as the case was +inexcusable and the public indignation thoroughly aroused, the +unusual figure of 750 pounds was offered for his capture. He was +reported to have large sums of money in his possession. One day, +he had been heard of in Spain; the next, there was sure +intelligence that he was still lurking between Manchester and +Liverpool, or along the border of Wales; and the day after, a +telegram would announce his arrival in Cuba or Yucatan. But in all +this there was no word of an Italian, nor any sign of mystery. + +In the very last paper, however, there was one item not so clear. +The accountants who were charged to verify the failure had, it +seemed, come upon the traces of a very large number of thousands, +which figured for some time in the transactions of the house of +Huddlestone; but which came from nowhere, and disappeared in the +same mysterious fashion. It was only once referred to by name, and +then under the initials "X. X."; but it had plainly been floated +for the first time into the business at a period of great +depression some six years ago. The name of a distinguished Royal +personage had been mentioned by rumour in connection with this sum. +"The cowardly desperado" - such, I remember, was the editorial +expression - was supposed to have escaped with a large part of this +mysterious fund still in his possession. + +I was still brooding over the fact, and trying to torture it into +some connection with Mr. Huddlestone's danger, when a man entered +the tavern and asked for some bread and cheese with a decided +foreign accent. + +"SIETE ITALIANO?" said I. + +"SI, SIGNOR," was his reply. + +I said it was unusually far north to find one of his compatriots; +at which he shrugged his shoulders, and replied that a man would go +anywhere to find work. What work he could hope to find at Graden +Wester, I was totally unable to conceive; and the incident struck +so unpleasantly upon my mind, that I asked the landlord, while he +was counting me some change, whether he had ever before seen an +Italian in the village. He said he had once seen some Norwegians, +who had been shipwrecked on the other side of Graden Ness and +rescued by the lifeboat from Cauldhaven. + +"No!" said I; "but an Italian, like the man who has just had bread +and cheese." + +"What?" cried he, "yon black-avised fellow wi' the teeth? Was he +an I-talian? Weel, yon's the first that ever I saw, an' I dare say +he's like to be the last." + +Even as he was speaking, I raised my eyes, and, casting a glance +into the street, beheld three men in earnest conversation together, +and not thirty yards away. One of them was my recent companion in +the tavern parlour; the other two, by their handsome, sallow +features and soft hats, should evidently belong to the same race. +A crowd of village children stood around them, gesticulating and +talking gibberish in imitation. The trio looked singularly foreign +to the bleak dirty street in which they were standing, and the dark +grey heaven that overspread them; and I confess my incredulity +received at that moment a shock from which it never recovered. I +might reason with myself as I pleased, but I could not argue down +the effect of what I had seen, and I began to share in the Italian +terror. + +It was already drawing towards the close of the day before I had +returned the newspapers at the manse, and got well forward on to +the links on my way home. I shall never forget that walk. It grew +very cold and boisterous; the wind sang in the short grass about my +feet; thin rain showers came running on the gusts; and an immense +mountain range of clouds began to arise out of the bosom of the +sea. It would be hard to imagine a more dismal evening; and +whether it was from these external influences, or because my nerves +were already affected by what I had heard and seen, my thoughts +were as gloomy as the weather. + +The upper windows of the pavilion commanded a considerable spread +of links in the direction of Graden Wester. To avoid observation, +it was necessary to hug the beach until I had gained cover from the +higher sand-hills on the little headland, when I might strike +across, through the hollows, for the margin of the wood. The sun +was about setting; the tide was low, and all the quicksands +uncovered; and I was moving along, lost in unpleasant thought, when +I was suddenly thunderstruck to perceive the prints of human feet. +They ran parallel to my own course, but low down upon the beach +instead of along the border of the turf; and, when I examined them, +I saw at once, by the size and coarseness of the impression, that +it was a stranger to me and to those in the pavilion who had +recently passed that way. Not only so; but from the recklessness +of the course which he had followed, steering near to the most +formidable portions of the sand, he was as evidently a stranger to +the country and to the ill-repute of Graden beach. + +Step by step I followed the prints; until, a quarter of a mile +farther, I beheld them die away into the south-eastern boundary of +Graden Floe. There, whoever he was, the miserable man had +perished. One or two gulls, who had, perhaps, seen him disappear, +wheeled over his sepulchre with their usual melancholy piping. The +sun had broken through the clouds by a last effort, and coloured +the wide level of quicksands with a dusky purple. I stood for some +time gazing at the spot, chilled and disheartened by my own +reflections, and with a strong and commanding consciousness of +death. I remember wondering how long the tragedy had taken, and +whether his screams had been audible at the pavilion. And then, +making a strong resolution, I was about to tear myself away, when a +gust fiercer than usual fell upon this quarter of the beach, and I +saw now, whirling high in air, now skimming lightly across the +surface of the sands, a soft, black, felt hat, somewhat conical in +shape, such as I had remarked already on the heads of the Italians. + +I believe, but I am not sure, that I uttered a cry. The wind was +driving the hat shoreward, and I ran round the border of the floe +to be ready against its arrival. The gust fell, dropping the hat +for a while upon the quicksand, and then, once more freshening, +landed it a few yards from where I stood. I seized it with the +interest you may imagine. It had seen some service; indeed, it was +rustier than either of those I had seen that day upon the street. +The lining was red, stamped with the name of the maker, which I +have forgotten, and that of the place of manufacture, VENEDIG. +This (it is not yet forgotten) was the name given by the Austrians +to the beautiful city of Venice, then, and for long after, a part +of their dominions. + +The shock was complete. I saw imaginary Italians upon every side; +and for the first, and, I may say, for the last time in my +experience, became overpowered by what is called a panic terror. I +knew nothing, that is, to be afraid of, and yet I admit that I was +heartily afraid; and it was with a sensible reluctance that I +returned to my exposed and solitary camp in the Sea-Wood. + +There I ate some cold porridge which had been left over from the +night before, for I was disinclined to make a fire; and, feeling +strengthened and reassured, dismissed all these fanciful terrors +from my mind, and lay down to sleep with composure. + +How long I may have slept it is impossible for me to guess; but I +was awakened at last by a sudden, blinding flash of light into my +face. It woke me like a blow. In an instant I was upon my knees. +But the light had gone as suddenly as it came. The darkness was +intense. And, as it was blowing great guns from the sea and +pouring with rain, the noises of the storm effectually concealed +all others. + +It was, I dare say, half a minute before I regained my self- +possession. But for two circumstances, I should have thought I had +been awakened by some new and vivid form of nightmare. First, the +flap of my tent, which I had shut carefully when I retired, was now +unfastened; and, second, I could still perceive, with a sharpness +that excluded any theory of hallucination, the smell of hot metal +and of burning oil. The conclusion was obvious. I had been +wakened by some one flashing a bull's-eye lantern in my face. It +had been but a flash, and away. He had seen my face, and then +gone. I asked myself the object of so strange a proceeding, and +the answer came pat. The man, whoever he was, had thought to +recognise me, and he had not. There was yet another question +unresolved; and to this, I may say, I feared to give an answer; if +he had recognised me, what would he have done? + +My fears were immediately diverted from myself, for I saw that I +had been visited in a mistake; and I became persuaded that some +dreadful danger threatened the pavilion. It required some nerve to +issue forth into the black and intricate thicket which surrounded +and overhung the den; but I groped my way to the links, drenched +with rain, beaten upon and deafened by the gusts, and fearing at +every step to lay my hand upon some lurking adversary. The +darkness was so complete that I might have been surrounded by an +army and yet none the wiser, and the uproar of the gale so loud +that my hearing was as useless as my sight. + +For the rest of that night, which seemed interminably long, I +patrolled the vicinity of the pavilion, without seeing a living +creature or hearing any noise but the concert of the wind, the sea, +and the rain. A light in the upper story filtered through a cranny +of the shutter, and kept me company till the approach of dawn. + + + +CHAPTER V - TELLS OF AN INTERVIEW BETWEEN NORTHMOUR, CLARA, AND +MYSELF + + + +With the first peep of day, I retired from the open to my old lair +among the sand-hills, there to await the coming of my wife. The +morning was grey, wild, and melancholy; the wind moderated before +sunrise, and then went about, and blew in puffs from the shore; the +sea began to go down, but the rain still fell without mercy. Over +all the wilderness of links there was not a creature to be seen. +Yet I felt sure the neighbourhood was alive with skulking foes. +The light that had been so suddenly and surprisingly flashed upon +my face as I lay sleeping, and the hat that had been blown ashore +by the wind from over Graden Floe, were two speaking signals of the +peril that environed Clara and the party in the pavilion. + +It was, perhaps, half-past seven, or nearer eight, before I saw the +door open, and that dear figure come towards me in the rain. I was +waiting for her on the beach before she had crossed the sand-hills. + +"I have had such trouble to come!" she cried. "They did not wish +me to go walking in the rain." + +"Clara," I said, "you are not frightened!" + +"No," said she, with a simplicity that filled my heart with +confidence. For my wife was the bravest as well as the best of +women; in my experience, I have not found the two go always +together, but with her they did; and she combined the extreme of +fortitude with the most endearing and beautiful virtues. + +I told her what had happened; and, though her cheek grew visibly +paler, she retained perfect control over her senses. + +"You see now that I am safe," said I, in conclusion. "They do not +mean to harm me; for, had they chosen, I was a dead man last +night." + +She laid her hand upon my arm. + +"And I had no presentiment!" she cried. + +Her accent thrilled me with delight. I put my arm about her, and +strained her to my side; and, before either of us was aware, her +hands were on my shoulders and my lips upon her mouth. Yet up to +that moment no word of love had passed between us. To this day I +remember the touch of her cheek, which was wet and cold with the +rain; and many a time since, when she has been washing her face, I +have kissed it again for the sake of that morning on the beach. +Now that she is taken from me, and I finish my pilgrimage alone, I +recall our old lovingkindnesses and the deep honesty and affection +which united us, and my present loss seems but a trifle in +comparison. + +We may have thus stood for some seconds - for time passes quickly +with lovers - before we were startled by a peal of laughter close +at hand. It was not natural mirth, but seemed to be affected in +order to conceal an angrier feeling. We both turned, though I +still kept my left arm about Clara's waist; nor did she seek to +withdraw herself; and there, a few paces off upon the beach, stood +Northmour, his head lowered, his hands behind his back, his +nostrils white with passion. + +"Ah! Cassilis!" he said, as I disclosed my face. + +"That same," said I; for I was not at all put about. + +"And so, Miss Huddlestone," he continued slowly but savagely, "this +is how you keep your faith to your father and to me? This is the +value you set upon your father's life? And you are so infatuated +with this young gentleman that you must brave ruin, and decency, +and common human caution - " + +"Miss Huddlestone - " I was beginning to interrupt him, when he, in +his turn, cut in brutally - + +"You hold your tongue," said he; "I am speaking to that girl." + +"That girl, as you call her, is my wife," said I; and my wife only +leaned a little nearer, so that I knew she had affirmed my words. + +"Your what?" he cried. "You lie!" + +"Northmour," I said, "we all know you have a bad temper, and I am +the last man to be irritated by words. For all that, I propose +that you speak lower, for I am convinced that we are not alone." + +He looked round him, and it was plain my remark had in some degree +sobered his passion. "What do you mean?" he asked. + +I only said one word: "Italians." + +He swore a round oath, and looked at us, from one to the other. + +"Mr. Cassilis knows all that I know," said my wife. + +"What I want to know," he broke out, "is where the devil Mr. +Cassilis comes from, and what the devil Mr. Cassilis is doing here. +You say you are married; that I do not believe. If you were, +Graden Floe would soon divorce you; four minutes and a half, +Cassilis. I keep my private cemetery for my friends." + +"It took somewhat longer," said I, "for that Italian." + +He looked at me for a moment half daunted, and then, almost +civilly, asked me to tell my story. "You have too much the +advantage of me, Cassilis," he added. I complied of course; and he +listened, with several ejaculations, while I told him how I had +come to Graden: that it was I whom he had tried to murder on the +night of landing; and what I had subsequently seen and heard of the +Italians. + +"Well," said he, when I had done, "it is here at last; there is no +mistake about that. And what, may I ask, do you propose to do?" + +"I propose to stay with you and lend a hand," said I. + +"You are a brave man," he returned, with a peculiar intonation. + +"I am not afraid," said I. + +"And so," he continued, "I am to understand that you two are +married? And you stand up to it before my face, Miss Huddlestone?" + +"We are not yet married," said Clara; "but we shall be as soon as +we can." + +"Bravo!" cried Northmour. "And the bargain? D-n it, you're not a +fool, young woman; I may call a spade a spade with you. How about +the bargain? You know as well as I do what your father's life +depends upon. I have only to put my hands under my coat-tails and +walk away, and his throat would he cut before the evening." + +"Yes, Mr. Northmour," returned Clara, with great spirit; "but that +is what you will never do. You made a bargain that was unworthy of +a gentleman; but you are a gentleman for all that, and you will +never desert a man whom you have begun to help." + +"Aha!" said he. "You think I will give my yacht for nothing? You +think I will risk my life and liberty for love of the old +gentleman; and then, I suppose, be best man at the wedding, to wind +up? Well," he added, with an odd smile, "perhaps you are not +altogether wrong. But ask Cassilis here. HE knows me. Am I a man +to trust? Am I safe and scrupulous? Am I kind?" + +"I know you talk a great deal, and sometimes, I think, very +foolishly," replied Clara, "but I know you are a gentleman, and I +am not the least afraid." + +He looked at her with a peculiar approval and admiration; then, +turning to me, "Do you think I would give her up without a +struggle, Frank?" said he. "I tell you plainly, you look out. The +next time we come to blows - " + +"Will make the third," I interrupted, smiling. + +"Aye, true; so it will," he said. "I had forgotten. Well, the +third time's lucky." + +"The third time, you mean, you will have the crew of the RED EARL +to help," I said. + +"Do you hear him?" he asked, turning to my wife. + +"I hear two men speaking like cowards," said she. "I should +despise myself either to think or speak like that. And neither of +you believe one word that you are saying, which makes it the more +wicked and silly." + +"She's a trump!" cried Northmour. "But she's not yet Mrs. +Cassilis. I say no more. The present is not for me." Then my +wife surprised me. + +"I leave you here," she said suddenly. "My father has been too +long alone. But remember this: you are to be friends, for you are +both good friends to me." + +She has since told me her reason for this step. As long as she +remained, she declares that we two would have continued to quarrel; +and I suppose that she was right, for when she was gone we fell at +once into a sort of confidentiality. + +Northmour stared after her as she went away over the sand-hill + +"She is the only woman in the world!" he exclaimed with an oath. +"Look at her action." + +I, for my part, leaped at this opportunity for a little further +light. + +"See here, Northmour," said I; "we are all in a tight place, are we +not?" + +"I believe you, my boy," he answered, looking me in the eyes, and +with great emphasis. "We have all hell upon us, that's the truth. +You may believe me or not, but I'm afraid of my life." + +"Tell me one thing," said I. "What are they after, these Italians? +What do they want with Mr. Huddlestone?" + +"Don't you know?" he cried. "The black old scamp had CARBONARO +funds on a deposit - two hundred and eighty thousand; and of course +he gambled it away on stocks. There was to have been a revolution +in the Tridentino, or Parma; but the revolution is off, and the +whole wasp's nest is after Huddlestone. We shall all be lucky if +we can save our skins." + +"The CARBONARI!" I exclaimed; "God help him indeed!" + +"Amen!" said Northmour. "And now, look here: I have said that we +are in a fix; and, frankly, I shall be glad of your help. If I +can't save Huddlestone, I want at least to save the girl. Come and +stay in the pavilion; and, there's my hand on it, I shall act as +your friend until the old man is either clear or dead. But," he +added, "once that is settled, you become my rival once again, and I +warn you - mind yourself." + +"Done!" said I; and we shook hands. + +"And now let us go directly to the fort," said Northmour; and he +began to lead the way through the rain. + + + +CHAPTER VI - TELLS OF MY INTRODUCTION TO THE TALL MAN + + + +We were admitted to the pavilion by Clara, and I was surprised by +the completeness and security of the defences. A barricade of +great strength, and yet easy to displace, supported the door +against Any violence from without; and the shutters of the dining- +room, into which I was led directly, and which was feebly +illuminated by a lamp, were even more elaborately fortified. The +panels were strengthened by bars and cross-bars; and these, in +their turn, were kept in position by a system of braces and struts, +some abutting on the floor, some on the roof, and others, in fine, +against the opposite wall of the apartment. It was at once a solid +and well-designed piece of carpentry; and I did not seek to conceal +my admiration. + +"I am the engineer," said Northmour. "You remember the planks in +the garden? Behold them?" + +"I did not know you had so many talents," said I. + +"Are you armed?" he continued, pointing to an array of guns and +pistols, all in admirable order, which stood in line against the +wall or were displayed upon the sideboard. + +"Thank you," I returned; "I have gone armed since our last +encounter. But, to tell you the truth, I have had nothing to eat +since early yesterday evening." + +Northmour produced some cold meat, to which I eagerly set myself, +and a bottle of good Burgundy, by which, wet as I was, I did not +scruple to profit. I have always been an extreme temperance man on +principle; but it is useless to push principle to excess, and on +this occasion I believe that I finished three-quarters of the +bottle. As I ate, I still continued to admire the preparations for +defence. + +"We could stand a siege," I said at length. + +"Ye-es," drawled Northmour; "a very little one, per-haps. It is +not so much the strength of the pavilion I misdoubt; it is the +doubled anger that kills me. If we get to shooting, wild as the +country is some one is sure to hear it, and then - why then it's +the same thing, only different, as they say: caged by law, or +killed by CARBONARI. There's the choice. It is a devilish bad +thing to have the law against you in this world, and so I tell the +old gentleman upstairs. He is quite of my way of thinking." + +"Speaking of that," said I, "what kind of person is he?" + +"Oh, he!" cried the other; "he's a rancid fellow, as far as he +goes. I should like to have his neck wrung to-morrow by all the +devils in Italy. I am not in this affair for him. You take me? I +made a bargain for Missy's hand, and I mean to have it too." + +"That by the way," said I. "I understand. But how will Mr. +Huddlestone take my intrusion?" + +"Leave that to Clara," returned Northmour. + +I could have struck him in the face for this coarse familiarity; +but I respected the truce, as, I am bound to say, did Northmour, +and so long as the danger continued not a cloud arose in our +relation. I bear him this testimony with the most unfeigned +satisfaction; nor am I without pride when I look back upon my own +behaviour. For surely no two men were ever left in a position so +invidious and irritating. + +As soon as I had done eating, we proceeded to inspect the lower +floor. Window by window we tried the different supports, now and +then making an inconsiderable change; and the strokes of the hammer +sounded with startling loudness through the house. I proposed, I +remember, to make loop-holes; but he told me they were already made +in the windows of the upper story. It was an anxious business this +inspection, and left me down-hearted. There were two doors and +five windows to protect, and, counting Clara, only four of us to +defend them against an unknown number of foes. I communicated my +doubts to Northmour, who assured me, with unmoved composure, that +he entirely shared them. + +"Before morning," said he, "we shall all be butchered and buried in +Graden Floe. For me, that is written." + +I could not help shuddering at the mention of the quicksand, but +reminded Northmour that our enemies had spared me in the wood. + +"Do not flatter yourself," said he. "Then you were not in the same +boat with the old gentleman; now you are. It's the floe for all of +us, mark my words." + +I trembled for Clara; and just then her dear voice was heard +calling us to come upstairs. Northmour showed me the way, and, +when he had reached the landing, knocked at the door of what used +to be called MY UNCLE'S BEDROOM, as the founder of the pavilion had +designed it especially for himself. + +"Come in, Northmour; come in, dear Mr. Cassilis," said a voice from +within. + +Pushing open the door, Northmour admitted me before him into the +apartment. As I came in I could see the daughter slipping out by +the side door into the study, which had been prepared as her +bedroom. In the bed, which was drawn back against the wall, +instead of standing, as I had last seen it, boldly across the +window, sat Bernard Huddlestone, the defaulting banker. Little as +I had seen of him by the shifting light of the lantern on the +links, I had no difficulty in recognising him for the same. He had +a long and sallow countenance, surrounded by a long red beard and +side whiskers. His broken nose and high cheekbones gave him +somewhat the air of a Kalmuck, and his light eyes shone with the +excitement of a high fever. He wore a skull-cap of black silk; a +huge Bible lay open before him on the bed, with a pair of gold +spectacles in the place, and a pile of other books lay on the stand +by his side. The green curtains lent a cadaverous shade to his +cheek; and, as he sat propped on pillows, his great stature was +painfully hunched, and his head protruded till it overhung his +knees. I believe if he had not died otherwise, he must have fallen +a victim to consumption in the course of but a very few weeks. + +He held out to me a hand, long, thin, and disagreeably hairy. + +"Come in, come in, Mr. Cassilis," said he. "Another protector - +ahem! - another protector. Always welcome as a friend of my +daughter's, Mr. Cassilis. How they have rallied about me, my +daughter's friends! May God in heaven bless and reward them for +it!" + +I gave him my hand, of course, because I could not help it; but the +sympathy I had been prepared to feel for Clara's father was +immediately soured by his appearance, and the wheedling, unreal +tones in which he spoke. + +"Cassilis is a good man," said Northmour; "worth ten." + +"So I hear," cried Mr. Huddlestone eagerly "so my girl tells me. +Ah, Mr. Cassilis, my sin has found me out, you see! I am very low, +very low; but I hope equally penitent. We must all come to the +throne of grace at last, Mr. Cassilis. For my part, I come late +indeed; but with unfeigned humility, I trust." + +"Fiddle-de-dee!" said Northmour roughly. + +"No, no, dear Northmour!" cried the banker. "You must not say +that; you must not try to shake me. You forget, my dear, good boy, +you forget I may be called this very night before my Maker." + +His excitement was pitiful to behold; and I felt myself grow +indignant with Northmour, whose infidel opinions I well knew, and +heartily derided, as he continued to taunt the poor sinner out of +his humour of repentance. + +"Pooh, my dear Huddlestone!" said he. "You do yourself injustice. +You are a man of the world inside and out, and were up to all kinds +of mischief before I was born. Your conscience is tanned like +South American leather - only you forgot to tan your liver, and +that, if you will believe me, is the seat of the annoyance." + +"Rogue, rogue! bad boy!" said Mr. Huddlestone, shaking his finger. +"I am no precisian, if you come to that; I always hated a +precisian; but I never lost hold of something better through it +all. I have been a bad boy, Mr. Cassilis; I do not seek to deny +that; but it was after my wife's death, and you know, with a +widower, it's a different thing: sinful - I won't say no; but +there is a gradation, we shall hope. And talking of that - Hark!" +he broke out suddenly, his hand raised, his fingers spread, his +face racked with interest and terror. "Only the rain, bless God!" +he added, after a pause, and with indescribable relief. + +For some seconds he lay back among the pillows like a man near to +fainting; then he gathered himself together, and, in somewhat +tremulous tones, began once more to thank me for the share I was +prepared to take in his defence. + +"One question, sir," said I, when he had paused. "Is it true that +you have money with you?" + +He seemed annoyed by the question, but admitted with reluctance +that he had a little. + +"Well," I continued, "it is their money they are after, is it not? +Why not give it up to them?" + +"Ah!" replied he, shaking his head, "I have tried that already, Mr. +Cassilis; and alas that it should be so! but it is blood they +want." + +"Huddlestone, that's a little less than fair," said Northmour. +"You should mention that what you offered them was upwards of two +hundred thousand short. The deficit is worth a reference; it is +for what they call a cool sum, Frank. Then, you see, the fellows +reason in their clear Italian way; and it seems to them, as indeed +it seems to me, that they may just as well have both while they're +about it - money and blood together, by George, and no more trouble +for the extra pleasure." + +"Is it in the pavilion?" I asked. + +"It is; and I wish it were in the bottom of the sea instead," said +Northmour; and then suddenly - "What are you making faces at me +for?" he cried to Mr. Huddlestone, on whom I had unconsciously +turned my back. "Do you think Cassilis would sell you?" + +Mr. Huddlestone protested that nothing had been further from his +mind. + +"It is a good thing," retorted Northmour in his ugliest manner. +"You might end by wearying us. What were you going to say?" he +added, turning to me. + +"I was going to propose an occupation for the afternoon,'' said I. +"Let us carry that money out, piece by piece, and lay it down +before the pavilion door. If the CARBONARI come, why, it's theirs +at any rate." + +"No, no," cried Mr. Huddlestone; "it does not, it cannot belong to +them! It should be distributed PRO RATA among all my creditors." + +"Come now, Huddlestone," said Northmour, "none of that." + +"Well, but my daughter," moaned the wretched man. + +"Your daughter will do well enough. Here are two suitors, Cassilis +and I, neither of us beggars, between whom she has to choose. And +as for yourself, to make an end of arguments, you have no right to +a farthing, and, unless I'm much mistaken, you are going to die." + +It was certainly very cruelly said; but Mr. Huddlestone was a man +who attracted little sympathy; and, although I saw him wince and +shudder, I mentally endorsed the rebuke; nay, I added a +contribution of my own. + +"Northmour and I," I said, "are willing enough to help you to save +your life, but not to escape with stolen property." + +He struggled for a while with himself, as though he were on the +point of giving way to anger, but prudence had the best of the +controversy. + +"My dear boys," he said, "do with me or my money what you will. I +leave all in your hands. Let me compose myself." + +And so we left him, gladly enough I am sure. The last that I saw, +he had once more taken up his great Bible, and with tremulous hands +was adjusting his spectacles to read. + + + +CHAPTER VII - TELLS HOW A WORD WAS CRIED THROUGH THE PAVILION +WINDOW + + + +The recollection of that afternoon will always be graven on my +mind. Northmour and I were persuaded that an attack was imminent; +and if it had been in our power to alter in any way the order of +events, that power would have been used to precipitate rather than +delay the critical moment. The worst was to be anticipated; yet we +could conceive no extremity so miserable as the suspense we were +now suffering. I have never been an eager, though always a great, +reader; but I never knew books so insipid as those which I took up +and cast aside that afternoon in the pavilion. Even talk became +impossible, as the hours went on. One or other was always +listening for some sound, or peering from an upstairs window over +the links. And yet not a sign indicated the presence of our foes. + +We debated over and over again my proposal with regard to the +money; and had we been in complete possession of our faculties, I +am sure we should have condemned it as unwise; but we were +flustered with alarm, grasped at a straw, and determined, although +it was as much as advertising Mr. Huddlestone's presence in the +pavilion, to carry my proposal into effect. + +The sum was part in specie, part in bank paper, and part in +circular notes payable to the name of James Gregory. We took it +out, counted it, enclosed it once more in a despatch-box belonging +to Northmour, and prepared a letter in Italian which he tied to the +handle. It was signed by both of us under oath, and declared that +this was all the money which had escaped the failure of the house +of Huddlestone. This was, perhaps, the maddest action ever +perpetrated by two persons professing to be sane. Had the +despatch-box fallen into other hands than those for which it was +intended, we stood criminally convicted on our own written +testimony; but, as I have said, we were neither of us in a +condition to judge soberly, and had a thirst for action that drove +us to do something, right or wrong, rather than endure the agony of +waiting. Moreover, as we were both convinced that the hollows of +the links were alive with hidden spies upon our movements, we hoped +that our appearance with the box might lead to a parley, and, +perhaps, a compromise. + +It was nearly three when we issued from the pavilion. The rain had +taken off; the sun shone quite cheerfully. + +I have never seen the gulls fly so close about the house or +approach so fearlessly to human beings. On the very doorstep one +flapped heavily past our heads, and uttered its wild cry in my very +ear. + +"There is an omen for you," said Northmour, who like all +freethinkers was much under the influence of superstition. "They +think we are already dead." + +I made some light rejoinder, but it was with half my heart; for the +circumstance had impressed me. + +A yard or two before the gate, on a patch of smooth turf, we set +down the despatch-box; and Northmour waved a white handkerchief +over his head. Nothing replied. We raised our voices, and cried +aloud in Italian that we were there as ambassadors to arrange the +quarrel; but the stillness remained unbroken save by the sea-gulls +and the surf. I had a weight at my heart when we desisted; and I +saw that even Northmour was unusually pale. He looked over his +shoulder nervously, as though he feared that some one had crept +between him and the pavilion door. + +"By God," he said in a whisper, "this is too much for me!" + +I replied in the same key: "Suppose there should be none, after +all!" + +"Look there," he returned, nodding with his head, as though he had +been afraid to point. + +I glanced in the direction indicated; and there, from the northern +quarter of the Sea-Wood, beheld a thin column of smoke rising +steadily against the now cloudless sky. + +"Northmour," I said (we still continued to talk in whispers), "it +is not possible to endure this suspense. I prefer death fifty +times over. Stay you here to watch the pavilion; I will go forward +and make sure, if I have to walk right into their camp." + +He looked once again all round him with puckered eyes, and then +nodded assentingly to my proposal. + +My heart beat like a sledge-hammer as I set out walking rapidly in +the direction of the smoke; and, though up to that moment I had +felt chill and shivering, I was suddenly conscious of a glow of +heat over all my body. The ground in this direction was very +uneven; a hundred men might have lain hidden in as many square +yards about my path. But I had not practised the business in vain, +chose such routes as cut at the very root of concealment, and, by +keeping along the most convenient ridges, commanded several hollows +at a time. It was not long before I was rewarded for my caution. +Coming suddenly on to a mound somewhat more elevated than the +surrounding hummocks, I saw, not thirty yards away, a man bent +almost double, and running as fast as his attitude permitted, along +the bottom of a gully. I had dislodged one of the spies from his +ambush. As soon as I sighted him, I called loudly both in English +and Italian; and he, seeing concealment was no longer possible, +straightened himself out, leaped from the gully, and made off as +straight as an arrow for the borders of the wood. + +It was none of my business to pursue; I had learned what I wanted - +that we were beleaguered and watched in the pavilion; and I +returned at once, and walking as nearly as possible in my old +footsteps, to where Northmour awaited me beside the despatch-box. +He was even paler than when I had left him, and his voice shook a +little. + +"Could you see what he was like?" he asked. + +"He kept his back turned," I replied. + +"Let us get into the house, Frank. I don't think I'm a coward, but +I can stand no more of this," he whispered. + +All was still and sunshiny about the pavilion as we turned to re- +enter it; even the gulls had flown in a wider circuit, and were +seen flickering along the beach and sand-hills; and this loneliness +terrified me more than a regiment under arms. It was not until the +door was barricaded that I could draw a full inspiration and +relieve the weight that lay upon my bosom. Northmour and I +exchanged a steady glance; and I suppose each made his own +reflections on the white and startled aspect of the other. + +"You were right," I said. "All is over. Shake hands, old man, for +the last time." + +"Yes," replied he, "I will shake hands; for, as sure as I am here, +I bear no malice. But, remember, if, by some impossible accident, +we should give the slip to these blackguards, I'll take the upper +hand of you by fair or foul." + +"Oh," said I, "you weary me!" + +He seemed hurt, and walked away in silence to the foot of the +stairs, where he paused. + +"You do not understand," said he. "I am not a swindler, and I +guard myself; that is all. It may weary you or not, Mr. Cassilis, +I do not care a rush; I speak for my own satisfaction, and not for +your amusement. You had better go upstairs and court the girl; for +my part, I stay here." + +"And I stay with you," I returned. "Do you think I would steal a +march, even with your permission?" + +"Frank," he said, smiling, "it's a pity you are an ass, for you +have the makings of a man. I think I must be FEY to-day; you +cannot irritate me even when you try. Do you know," he continued +softly, "I think we are the two most miserable men in England, you +and I? we have got on to thirty without wife or child, or so much +as a shop to look after - poor, pitiful, lost devils, both! And +now we clash about a girl! As if there were not several millions +in the United Kingdom! Ah, Frank, Frank, the one who loses this +throw, be it you or me, he has my pity! It were better for him - +how does the Bible say? - that a millstone were hanged about his +neck and he were cast into the depth of the sea. Let us take a +drink," he concluded suddenly, but without any levity of tone. + +I was touched by his words, and consented. He sat down on the +table in the dining-room, and held up the glass of sherry to his +eye. + +"If you beat me, Frank," he said, "I shall take to drink. What +will you do, if it goes the other way?" + +"God knows," I returned. + +"Well," said he, "here is a toast in the meantime: 'ITALIA +IRREDENTA!'" + +The remainder of the day was passed in the same dreadful tedium and +suspense. I laid the table for dinner, while Northmour and Clara +prepared the meal together in the kitchen. I could hear their talk +as I went to and fro, and was surprised to find it ran all the time +upon myself. Northmour again bracketed us together, and rallied +Clara on a choice of husbands; but he continued to speak of me with +some feeling, and uttered nothing to my prejudice unless he +included himself in the condemnation. This awakened a sense of +gratitude in my heart, which combined with the immediateness of our +peril to fill my eyes with tears. After all, I thought - and +perhaps the thought was laughably vain - we were here three very +noble human beings to perish in defence of a thieving banker. + +Before we sat down to table, I looked forth from an upstairs +window. The day was beginning to decline; the links were utterly +deserted; the despatch-box still lay untouched where we had left it +hours before. + +Mr. Huddlestone, in a long yellow dressing-gown, took one end of +the table, Clara the other; while Northmour and I faced each other +from the sides. The lamp was brightly trimmed; the wine was good; +the viands, although mostly cold, excellent of their sort. We +seemed to have agreed tacitly; all reference to the impending +catastrophe was carefully avoided; and, considering our tragic +circumstances, we made a merrier party than could have been +expected. From time to time, it is true, Northmour or I would rise +from table and make a round of the defences; and, on each of these +occasions, Mr. Huddlestone was recalled to a sense of his tragic +predicament, glanced up with ghastly eyes, and bore for an instant +on his countenance the stamp of terror. But he hastened to empty +his glass, wiped his forehead with his handkerchief, and joined +again in the conversation. + +I was astonished at the wit and information he displayed. Mr. +Huddlestone's was certainly no ordinary character; he had read and +observed for himself; his gifts were sound; and, though I could +never have learned to love the man, I began to understand his +success in business, and the great respect in which he had been +held before his failure. He had, above all, the talent of society; +and though I never heard him speak but on this one and most +unfavourable occasion, I set him down among the most brilliant +conversationalists I ever met. + +He was relating with great gusto, and seemingly no feeling of +shame, the manoeuvres of a scoundrelly commission merchant whom he +had known and studied in his youth, and we were all listening with +an odd mixture of mirth and embarrassment when our little party was +brought abruptly to an end in the most startling manner. + +A noise like that of a wet finger on the window-pane interrupted +Mr. Huddlestone's tale; and in an instant we were all four as white +as paper, and sat tongue-tied and motionless round the table. + +"A snail," I said at last; for I had heard that these animals make +a noise somewhat similar in character. + +"Snail be d-d!" said Northmour. "Hush!" + +The same sound was repeated twice at regular intervals; and then a +formidable voice shouted through the shutters the Italian word +"TRADITORE!" + +Mr. Huddlestone threw his head in the air; his eyelids quivered; +next moment he fell insensible below the table. Northmour and I +had each run to the armoury and seized a gun. Clara was on her +feet with her hand at her throat. + +So we stood waiting, for we thought the hour of attack was +certainly come; but second passed after second, and all but the +surf remained silent in the neighbourhood of the pavilion. + +"Quick," said Northmour; "upstairs with him before they come." + + + +CHAPTER VIII - TELLS THE LAST OF THE TALL MAN + + + +Somehow or other, by hook and crook, and between the three of us, +we got Bernard Huddlestone bundled upstairs and laid upon the bed +in MY UNCLE'S ROOM. During the whole process, which was rough +enough, he gave no sign of consciousness, and he remained, as we +had thrown him, without changing the position of a finger. His +daughter opened his shirt and began to wet his head and bosom; +while Northmour and I ran to the window. The weather continued +clear; the moon, which was now about full, had risen and shed a +very clear light upon the links; yet, strain our eyes as we might, +we could distinguish nothing moving. A few dark spots, more or +less, on the uneven expanse were not to be identified; they might +be crouching men, they might be shadows; it was impossible to be +sure. + +"Thank God," said Northmour, "Aggie is not coming to-night." + +Aggie was the name of the old nurse; he had not thought of her till +now; but that he should think of her at all, was a trait that +surprised me in the man. + +We were again reduced to waiting. Northmour went to the fireplace +and spread his hands before the red embers, as if he were cold. I +followed him mechanically with my eyes, and in so doing turned my +back upon the window. At that moment a very faint report was +audible from without, and a ball shivered a pane of glass, and +buried itself in the shutter two inches from my head. I heard +Clara scream; and though I whipped instantly out of range and into +a corner, she was there, so to speak, before me, beseeching to know +if I were hurt. I felt that I could stand to be shot at every day +and all day long, with such marks of solicitude for a reward; and I +continued to reassure her, with the tenderest caresses and in +complete forgetfulness of our situation, till the voice of +Northmour recalled me to myself. + +"An air-gun," he said. "They wish to make no noise." + +I put Clara aside, and looked at him. He was standing with his +back to the fire and his hands clasped behind him; and I knew by +the black look on his face, that passion was boiling within. I had +seen just such a look before he attacked me, that March night, in +the adjoining chamber; and, though I could make every allowance for +his anger, I confess I trembled for the consequences. He gazed +straight before him; but he could see us with the tail of his eye, +and his temper kept rising like a gale of wind. With regular +battle awaiting us outside, this prospect of an internecine strife +within the walls began to daunt me. + +Suddenly, as I was thus closely watching his expression and +prepared against the worst, I saw a change, a flash, a look of +relief, upon his face. He took up the lamp which stood beside him +on the table, and turned to us with an air of some excitement. + +"There is one point that we must know," said he. "Are they going +to butcher the lot of us, or only Huddlestone? Did they take you +for him, or fire at you for your own BEAUX YEUX?" + +"They took me for him, for certain," I replied. "I am near as +tall, and my head is fair." + +"I am going to make sure," returned Northmour; and he stepped up to +the window, holding the lamp above his head, and stood there, +quietly affronting death, for half a minute. + +Clara sought to rush forward and pull him from the place of danger; +but I had the pardonable selfishness to hold her back by force. + +"Yes," said Northmour, turning coolly from the window; "it's only +Huddlestone they want." + +"Oh, Mr. Northmour!" cried Clara; but found no more to add; the +temerity she had just witnessed seeming beyond the reach of words. + +He, on his part, looked at me, cocking his head, with a fire of +triumph in his eyes; and I understood at once that he had thus +hazarded his life, merely to attract Clara's notice, and depose me +from my position as the hero of the hour. He snapped his fingers. + +"The fire is only beginning," said he. "When they warm up to their +work, they won't be so particular." + +A voice was now heard hailing us from the entrance. From the +window we could see the figure of a man in the moonlight; he stood +motionless, his face uplifted to ours, and a rag of something white +on his extended arm; and as we looked right down upon him, though +he was a good many yards distant on the links, we could see the +moonlight glitter on his eyes. + +He opened his lips again, and spoke for some minutes on end, in a +key so loud that he might have been heard in every corner of the +pavilion, and as far away as the borders of the wood. It was the +same voice that had already shouted "TRADITORE!" through the +shutters of the dining-room; this time it made a complete and clear +statement. If the traitor "Oddlestone" were given up, all others +should be spared; if not, no one should escape to tell the tale. + +"Well, Huddlestone, what do you say to that?" asked Northmour, +turning to the bed. + +Up to that moment the banker had given no sign of life, and I, at +least, had supposed him to be still lying in a faint; but he +replied at once, and in such tones as I have never heard elsewhere, +save from a delirious patient, adjured and besought us not to +desert him. It was the most hideous and abject performance that my +imagination can conceive. + +"Enough," cried Northmour; and then he threw open the window, +leaned out into the night, and in a tone of exultation, and with a +total forgetfulness of what was due to the presence of a lady, +poured out upon the ambassador a string of the most abominable +raillery both in English and Italian, and bade him be gone where he +had come from. I believe that nothing so delighted Northmour at +that moment as the thought that we must all infallibly perish +before the night was out. + +Meantime the Italian put his flag of truce into his pocket, and +disappeared, at a leisurely pace, among the sand-hills. + +"They make honourable war," said Northmour. "They are all +gentlemen and soldiers. For the credit of the thing, I wish we +could change sides - you and I, Frank, and you too, Missy, my +darling - and leave that being on the bed to some one else. Tut! +Don't look shocked! We are all going post to what they call +eternity, and may as well be above-board while there's time. As +far as I'm concerned, if I could first strangle Huddlestone and +then get Clara in my arms, I could die with some pride and +satisfaction. And as it is, by God, I'll have a kiss!" + +Before I could do anything to interfere, he had rudely embraced and +repeatedly kissed the resisting girl. Next moment I had pulled him +away with fury, and flung him heavily against the wall. He laughed +loud and long, and I feared his wits had given way under the +strain; for even in the best of days he had been a sparing and a +quiet laugher. + +"Now, Frank," said he, when his mirth was somewhat appeased, "it's +your turn. Here's my hand. Good-bye; farewell!" Then, seeing me +stand rigid and indignant, and holding Clara to my side - "Man!" he +broke out, "are you angry? Did you think we were going to die with +all the airs and graces of society? I took a kiss; I'm glad I had +it; and now you can take another if you like, and square accounts." + +I turned from him with a feeling of contempt which I did not seek +to dissemble. + +"As you please," said he. "You've been a prig in life; a prig +you'll die." + +And with that he sat down in a chair, a rifle over his knee, and +amused himself with snapping the lock; but I could see that his +ebullition of light spirits (the only one I ever knew him to +display) had already come to an end, and was succeeded by a sullen, +scowling humour. + +All this time our assailants might have been entering the house, +and we been none the wiser; we had in truth almost forgotten the +danger that so imminently overhung our days. But just then Mr. +Huddlestone uttered a cry, and leaped from the bed. + +I asked him what was wrong. + +"Fire!" he cried. "They have set the house on fire!" + +Northmour was on his feet in an instant, and he and I ran through +the door of communication with the study. The room was illuminated +by a red and angry light. Almost at the moment of our entrance, a +tower of flame arose in front of the window, and, with a tingling +report, a pane fell inwards on the carpet. They had set fire to +the lean-to outhouse, where Northmour used to nurse his negatives. + +"Hot work," said Northmour. "Let us try in your old room." + +We ran thither in a breath, threw up the casement, and looked +forth. Along the whole back wall of the pavilion piles of fuel had +been arranged and kindled; and it is probable they had been +drenched with mineral oil, for, in spite of the morning's rain, +they all burned bravely. The fire had taken a firm hold already on +the outhouse, which blazed higher and higher every moment; the back +door was in the centre of a red-hot bonfire; the eaves we could +see, as we looked upward, were already smouldering, for the roof +overhung, and was supported by considerable beams of wood. At the +same time, hot, pungent, and choking volumes of smoke began to fill +the house. There was not a human being to be seen to right or +left. + +"Ah, well!" said Northmour, "here's the end, thank God." + +And we returned to MY UNCLE'S ROOM. Mr. Huddlestone was putting on +his boots, still violently trembling, but with an air of +determination such as I had not hitherto observed. Clara stood +close by him, with her cloak in both hands ready to throw about her +shoulders, and a strange look in her eyes, as if she were half +hopeful, half doubtful of her father. + +"Well, boys and girls," said Northmour, "how about a sally? The +oven is heating; it is not good to stay here and be baked; and, for +my part, I want to come to my hands with them, and be done." + +"There is nothing else left," I replied. + +And both Clara and Mr. Huddlestone, though with a very different +intonation, added, "Nothing." + +As we went downstairs the heat was excessive, and the roaring of +the fire filled our ears; and we had scarce reached the passage +before the stairs window fell in, a branch of flame shot +brandishing through the aperture, and the interior of the pavilion +became lit up with that dreadful and fluctuating glare. At the +same moment we heard the fall of something heavy and inelastic in +the upper story. The whole pavilion, it was plain, had gone alight +like a box of matches, and now not only flamed sky-high to land and +sea, but threatened with every moment to crumble and fall in about +our ears. + +Northmour and I cocked our revolvers. Mr. Huddlestone, who had +already refused a firearm, put us behind him with a manner of +command. + +"Let Clara open the door," said he. "So, if they fire a volley, +she will be protected. And in the meantime stand behind me. I am +the scapegoat; my sins have found me out." + +I heard him, as I stood breathless by his shoulder, with my pistol +ready, pattering off prayers in a tremulous, rapid whisper; and I +confess, horrid as the thought may seem, I despised him for +thinking of supplications in a moment so critical and thrilling. +In the meantime, Clara, who was dead white but still possessed her +faculties, had displaced the barricade from the front door. +Another moment, and she had pulled it open. Firelight and +moonlight illuminated the links with confused and changeful lustre, +and far away against the sky we could see a long trail of glowing +smoke. + +Mr. Huddlestone, filled for the moment with a strength greater than +his own, struck Northmour and myself a back-hander in the chest; +and while we were thus for the moment incapacitated from action, +lifting his arms above his head like one about to dive, he ran +straight forward out of the pavilion. + +"Here am!" he cried - "Huddlestone! Kill me, and spare the +others!" + +His sudden appearance daunted, I suppose, our hidden enemies; for +Northmour and I had time to recover, to seize Clara between us, one +by each arm, and to rush forth to his assistance, ere anything +further had taken place. But scarce had we passed the threshold +when there came near a dozen reports and flashes from every +direction among the hollows of the links. Mr. Huddlestone +staggered, uttered a weird and freezing cry, threw up his arms over +his head, and fell backward on the turf. + +"TRADITORE! TRADITORE!" cried the invisible avengers. + +And just then, a part of the roof of the pavilion fell in, so rapid +was the progress of the fire. A loud, vague, and horrible noise +accompanied the collapse, and a vast volume of flame went soaring +up to heaven. It must have been visible at that moment from twenty +miles out at sea, from the shore at Graden Wester, and far inland +from the peak of Graystiel, the most eastern summit of the Caulder +Hills. Bernard Huddlestone, although God knows what were his +obsequies, had a fine pyre at the moment of his death. + + + +CHAPTER IX - TELLS HOW NORTHMOUR CARRIED OUT HIS THREAT + + + +I should have the greatest difficulty to tell you what followed +next after this tragic circumstance. It is all to me, as I look +back upon it, mixed, strenuous, and ineffectual, like the struggles +of a sleeper in a nightmare. Clara, I remember, uttered a broken +sigh and would have fallen forward to earth, had not Northmour and +I supported her insensible body. I do not think we were attacked; +I do not remember even to have seen an assailant; and I believe we +deserted Mr. Huddlestone without a glance. I only remember running +like a man in a panic, now carrying Clara altogether in my own +arms, now sharing her weight with Northmour, now scuffling +confusedly for the possession of that dear burden. Why we should +have made for my camp in the Hemlock Den, or how we reached it, are +points lost for ever to my recollection. The first moment at which +I became definitely sure, Clara had been suffered to fall against +the outside of my little tent, Northmour and I were tumbling +together on the ground, and he, with contained ferocity, was +striking for my head with the butt of his revolver. He had already +twice wounded me on the scalp; and it is to the consequent loss of +blood that I am tempted to attribute the sudden clearness of my +mind. + +I caught him by the wrist. + +"Northmour," I remember saying, "you can kill me afterwards. Let +us first attend to Clara." + +He was at that moment uppermost. Scarcely had the words passed my +lips, when he had leaped to his feet and ran towards the tent; and +the next moment, he was straining Clara to his heart and covering +her unconscious hands and face with his caresses. + +"Shame!" I cried. "Shame to you, Northmour!" + +And, giddy though I still was, I struck him repeatedly upon the +head and shoulders. + +He relinquished his grasp, and faced me in the broken moonlight. + +"I had you under, and I let you go," said he; "and now you strike +me! Coward!" + +"You are the coward," I retorted. "Did she wish your kisses while +she was still sensible of what she wanted? Not she! And now she +may be dying; and you waste this precious time, and abuse her +helplessness. Stand aside, and let me help her." + +He confronted me for a moment, white and menacing; then suddenly he +stepped aside. + +"Help her then," said he. + +I threw myself on my knees beside her, and loosened, as well as I +was able, her dress and corset; but while I was thus engaged, a +grasp descended on my shoulder. + +"Keep your hands of her," said Northmour fiercely. "Do you think I +have no blood in my veins?" + +"Northmour," I cried, "if you will neither help her yourself, nor +let me do so, do you know that I shall have to kill you?" + +"That is better!" he cried. "Let her die also, where's the harm? +Step aside from that girl! and stand up to fight" + +"You will observe," said I, half rising, "that I have not kissed +her yet." + +"I dare you to," he cried. + +I do not know what possessed me; it was one of the things I am most +ashamed of in my life, though, as my wife used to say, I knew that +my kisses would be always welcome were she dead or living; down I +fell again upon my knees, parted the hair from her forehead, and, +with the dearest respect, laid my lips for a moment on that cold +brow. It was such a caress as a father might have given; it was +such a one as was not unbecoming from a man soon to die to a woman +already dead. + +"And now," said I, "I am at your service, Mr. Northmour." + +But I saw, to my surprise, that he had turned his back upon me. + +"Do you hear?" I asked. + +"Yes," said he, "I do. If you wish to fight, I am ready. If not, +go on and save Clara. All is one to me." + +I did not wait to be twice bidden; but, stooping again over Clara, +continued my efforts to revive her. She still lay white and +lifeless; I began to fear that her sweet spirit had indeed fled +beyond recall, and horror and a sense of utter desolation seized +upon my heart. I called her by name with the most endearing +inflections; I chafed and beat her hands; now I laid her head low, +now supported it against my knee; but all seemed to be in vain, and +the lids still lay heavy on her eyes. + +"Northmour," I said, "there is my hat. For God's sake bring some +water from the spring." + +Almost in a moment he was by my side with the water. "I have +brought it in my own," he said. "You do not grudge me the +privilege?" + +"Northmour," I was beginning to say, as I laved her head and +breast; but he interrupted me savagely. + +"Oh, you hush up!" he said. "The best thing you can do is to say +nothing." + +I had certainly no desire to talk, my mind being swallowed up in +concern for my dear love and her condition; so I continued in +silence to do my best towards her recovery, and, when the hat was +empty, returned it to him, with one word - "More." He had, +perhaps, gone several times upon this errand, when Clara reopened +her eyes. + +"Now," said he, "since she is better, you can spare me, can you +not? I wish you a good night, Mr. Cassilis." + +And with that he was gone among the thicket. I made a fire, for I +had now no fear of the Italians, who had even spared all the little +possessions left in my encampment; and, broken as she was by the +excitement and the hideous catastrophe of the evening, I managed, +in one way or another - by persuasion, encouragement, warmth, and +such simple remedies as I could lay my hand on - to bring her back +to some composure of mind and strength of body. + +Day had already come, when a sharp "Hist!" sounded from the +thicket. I started from the ground; but the voice of Northmour was +heard adding, in the most tranquil tones: "Come here, Cassilis, +and alone; I want to show you something." + +I consulted Clara with my eyes, and, receiving her tacit +permission, left her alone, and clambered out of the den. At some +distance of I saw Northmour leaning against an elder; and, as soon +as he perceived me, he began walking seaward. I had almost +overtaken him as he reached the outskirts of the wood. + +"Look," said he, pausing. + +A couple of steps more brought me out of the foliage. The light of +the morning lay cold and clear over that well-known scene. The +pavilion was but a blackened wreck; the roof had fallen in, one of +the gables had fallen out; and, far and near, the face of the links +was cicatrised with little patches of burnt furze. Thick smoke +still went straight upwards in the windless air of the morning, and +a great pile of ardent cinders filled the bare walls of the house, +like coals in an open grate. Close by the islet a schooner yacht +lay to, and a well-manned boat was pulling vigorously for the +shore. + +"The RED EARL!" I cried. "The RED EARL twelve hours too late!" + +"Feel in your pocket, Frank. Are you armed?" asked Northmour. + +I obeyed him, and I think I must have become deadly pale. My +revolver had been taken from me. + +"You see I have you in my power," he continued. "I disarmed you +last night while you were nursing Clara; but this morning - here - +take your pistol. No thanks!" he cried, holding up his hand. "I +do not like them; that is the only way you can annoy me now." + +He began to walk forward across the links to meet the boat, and I +followed a step or two behind. In front of the pavilion I paused +to see where Mr. Huddlestone had fallen; but there was no sign of +him, nor so much as a trace of blood. + +"Graden Floe," said Northmour. + +He continued to advance till we had come to the head of the beach. + +"No farther, please," said he. "Would you like to take her to +Graden House?" + +"Thank you," replied I; "I shall try to get her to the minister's +at Graden Wester." + +The prow of the boat here grated on the beach, and a sailor jumped +ashore with a line in his hand. + +"Wait a minute, lads!" cried Northmour; and then lower and to my +private ear: "You had better say nothing of all this to her," he +added. + +"On the contrary!" I broke out, "she shall know everything that I +can tell." + +"You do not understand," he returned, with an air of great dignity. +"It will be nothing to her; she expects it of me. Good-bye!" he +added, with a nod. + +I offered him my hand. + +"Excuse me," said he. "It's small, I know; but I can't push things +quite so far as that. I don't wish any sentimental business, to +sit by your hearth a white-haired wanderer, and all that. Quite +the contrary: I hope to God I shall never again clap eyes on +either one of you." + +"Well, God bless you, Northmour!" I said heartily. + +"Oh, yes," he returned. + +He walked down the beach; and the man who was ashore gave him an +arm on board, and then shoved off and leaped into the bows himself. +Northmour took the tiller; the boat rose to the waves, and the oars +between the thole-pins sounded crisp and measured in the morning +air. + +They were not yet half-way to the RED EARL, and I was still +watching their progress, when the sun rose out of the sea. + +One word more, and my story is done. Years after, Northmour was +killed fighting under the colours of Garibaldi for the liberation +of the Tyrol. + + + + +A LODGING FOR THE NIGHT - A STORY OF FRANCIS VILLON + + + + +It was late in November 1456. The snow fell over Paris with +rigorous, relentless persistence; sometimes the wind made a sally +and scattered it in flying vortices; sometimes there was a lull, +and flake after flake descended out of the black night air, silent, +circuitous, interminable. To poor people, looking up under moist +eyebrows, it seemed a wonder where it all came from. Master +Francis Villon had propounded an alternative that afternoon, at a +tavern window: was it only Pagan Jupiter plucking geese upon +Olympus? or were the holy angels moulting? He was only a poor +Master of Arts, he went on; and as the question somewhat touched +upon divinity, he durst not venture to conclude. A silly old +priest from Montargis, who was among the company, treated the young +rascal to a bottle of wine in honour of the jest and the grimaces +with which it was accompanied, and swore on his own white beard +that he had been just such another irreverent dog when he was +Villon's age. + +The air was raw and pointed, but not far below freezing; and the +flakes were large, damp, and adhesive. The whole city was sheeted +up. An army might have marched from end to end and not a footfall +given the alarm. If there were any belated birds in heaven, they +saw the island like a large white patch, and the bridges like slim +white spars, on the black ground of the river. High up overhead +the snow settled among the tracery of the cathedral towers. Many a +niche was drifted full; many a statue wore a long white bonnet on +its grotesque or sainted head. The gargoyles had been transformed +into great false noses, drooping towards the point. The crockets +were like upright pillows swollen on one side. In the intervals of +the wind, there was a dull sound of dripping about the precincts of +the church. + +The cemetery of St. John had taken its own share of the snow. All +the graves were decently covered; tall white housetops stood around +in grave array; worthy burghers were long ago in bed, benightcapped +like their domiciles; there was no light in all the neighbourhood +but a little peep from a lamp that hung swinging in the church +choir, and tossed the shadows to and fro in time to its +oscillations. The clock was hard on ten when the patrol went by +with halberds and a lantern, beating their hands; and they saw +nothing suspicious about the cemetery of St. John. + +Yet there was a small house, backed up against the cemetery wall, +which was still awake, and awake to evil purpose, in that snoring +district. There was not much to betray it from without; only a +stream of warm vapour from the chimney-top, a patch where the snow +melted on the roof, and a few half-obliterated footprints at the +door. But within, behind the shuttered windows, Master Francis +Villon the poet, and some of the thievish crew with whom he +consorted, were keeping the night alive and passing round the +bottle. + +A great pile of living embers diffused a strong and ruddy glow from +the arched chimney. Before this straddled Dom Nicolas, the Picardy +monk, with his skirts picked up and his fat legs bared to the +comfortable warmth. His dilated shadow cut the room in half; and +the firelight only escaped on either side of his broad person, and +in a little pool between his outspread feet. His face had the +beery, bruised appearance of the continual drinker's; it was +covered with a network of congested veins, purple in ordinary +circumstances, but now pale violet, for even with his back to the +fire the cold pinched him on the other side. His cowl had half +fallen back, and made a strange excrescence on either side of his +bull neck. So he straddled, grumbling, and cut the room in half +with the shadow of his portly frame. + +On the right, Villon and Guy Tabary were huddled together over a +scrap of parchment; Villon making a ballade which he was to call +the "Ballade of Roast Fish," and Tabary spluttering admiration at +his shoulder. The poet was a rag of a man, dark, little, and lean, +with hollow cheeks and thin black locks. He carried his four-and- +twenty years with feverish animation. Greed had made folds about +his eyes, evil smiles had puckered his mouth. The wolf and pig +struggled together in his face. It was an eloquent, sharp, ugly, +earthly countenance. His hands were small and prehensile, with +fingers knotted like a cord; and they were continually flickering +in front of him in violent and expressive pantomime. As for +Tabary, a broad, complacent, admiring imbecility breathed from his +squash nose and slobbering lips: he had become a thief, just as he +might have become the most decent of burgesses, by the imperious +chance that rules the lives of human geese and human donkeys. + +At the monk's other hand, Montigny and Thevenin Pensete played a +game of chance. About the first there clung some flavour of good +birth and training, as about a fallen angel; something long, lithe, +and courtly in the person; something aquiline and darkling in the +face. Thevenin, poor soul, was in great feather: he had done a +good stroke of knavery that afternoon in the Faubourg St. Jacques, +and all night he had been gaining from Montigny. A flat smile +illuminated his face; his bald head shone rosily in a garland of +red curls; his little protuberant stomach shook with silent +chucklings as he swept in his gains. + +"Doubles or quits?" said Thevenin. Montigny nodded grimly. + +"Some may prefer to dine in state," wrote Villon, "On bread and +cheese on silver plate. Or - or - help me out, Guido!" + +Tabary giggled. + +"Or parsley on a golden dish," scribbled the poet. + +The wind was freshening without; it drove the snow before it, and +sometimes raised its voice in a victorious whoop, and made +sepulchral grumblings in the chimney. The cold was growing sharper +an the night went on. Villon, protruding his lips, imitated the +gust with something between a whistle and a groan. It was an +eerie, uncomfortable talent of the poet's, much detested by the +Picardy monk. + +"Can't you hear it rattle in the gibbet?" said Villon. "They are +all dancing the devil's jig on nothing, up there. You may dance, +my gallants, you'll be none the warmer! Whew! what a gust! Down +went somebody just now! A medlar the fewer on the three-legged +medlar-tree! - I say, Dom Nicolas, it'll be cold to-night on the +St. Denis Road?" he asked. + +Dom Nicolas winked both his big eyes, and seemed to choke upon his +Adam's apple. Montfaucon, the great grisly Paris gibbet, stood +hard by the St. Denis Road, and the pleasantry touched him on the +raw. As for Tabary, he laughed immoderately over the medlars; he +had never heard anything more light-hearted; and he held his sides +and crowed. Villon fetched him a fillip on the nose, which turned +his mirth into an attack of coughing. + +"Oh, stop that row," said Villon, "and think of rhymes to 'fish'." + +"Doubles or quits," said Montigny doggedly. + +"With all my heart," quoth Thevenin. + +"Is there any more in that bottle?" asked the monk. + +"Open another," said Villon. "How do you ever hope to fill that +big hogshead, your body, with little things like bottles? And how +do you expect to get to heaven? How many angels, do you fancy, can +be spared to carry up a single monk from Picardy? Or do you think +yourself another Elias - and they'll send the coach for you?" + +"HOMINIBUS IMPOSSIBILE," replied the monk, as he filled his glass. + +Tabary was in ecstasies. + +Villon filliped his nose again. + +"Laugh at my jokes, if you like," he said. + +"It was very good," objected Tabary. + +Villon made a face at him. "Think of rhymes to 'fish'," he said. +"What have you to do with Latin? You'll wish you knew none of it +at the great assizes, when the devil calls for Guido Tabary, +clericus - the devil with the hump-back and red-hot finger-nails. +Talking of the devil," he added in a whisper, "look at Montigny!" + +All three peered covertly at the gamester. He did not seem to be +enjoying his luck. His mouth was a little to a side; one nostril +nearly shut, and the other much inflated. The black dog was on his +back, as people say, in terrifying nursery metaphor; and he +breathed hard under the gruesome burden. + +"He looks as if he could knife him," whispered Tabary, with round +eyes. + +The monk shuddered, and turned his face and spread his open hands +to the red embers. It was the cold that thus affected Dom Nicolas, +and not any excess of moral sensibility + +"Come now," said Villon - "about this ballade. How does it run so +far?" And beating time with his hand, he read it aloud to Tabary. + +They were interrupted at the fourth rhyme by a brief and fatal +movement among the gamesters. The round was completed, and +Thevenin was just opening his mouth to claim another victory, when +Montigny leaped up, swift as an adder, and stabbed him to the +heart. The blow took effect before he had time to utter a cry, +before he had time to move. A tremor or two convulsed his frame; +his hands opened and shut, his heels rattled on the floor; then his +head rolled backward over one shoulder with the eyes wide open; and +Thevenin Pensete's spirit had returned to Him who made it. + +Everyone sprang to his feet; but the business was over in two twos. +The four living fellows looked at each other in rather a ghastly +fashion; the dead man contemplating a corner of the roof with a +singular and ugly leer. + +"My God!" said Tabary; and he began to pray in Latin. + +Villon broke out into hysterical laughter. He came a step forward +and ducked a ridiculous bow at Thevenin, and laughed still louder. +Then he sat down suddenly, all of a heap, upon a stool, and +continued laughing bitterly as though he would shake himself to +pieces. + +Montigny recovered his composure first. + +"Let's see what he has about him," he remarked; and he picked the +dead man's pockets with a practised hand, and divided the money +into four equal portions on the table. "There's for you," he said. + +The monk received his share with a deep sigh, and a single stealthy +glance at the dead Thevenin, who was beginning to sink into himself +and topple sideways of the chair. + +"We're all in for it," cried Villon, swallowing his mirth. "It's a +hanging job for every man jack of us that's here - not to speak of +those who aren't." He made a shocking gesture in the air with his +raised right hand, and put out his tongue and threw his head on one +side, so as to counterfeit the appearance of one who has been +hanged. Then he pocketed his share of the spoil, and executed a +shuffle with his feet as if to restore the circulation. + +Tabary was the last to help himself; he made a dash at the money, +and retired to the other end of the apartment. + +Montigny stuck Thevenin upright in the chair, and drew out the +dagger, which was followed by a jet of blood. + +"You fellows had better be moving," he said, as he wiped the blade +on his victim's doublet. + +"I think we had," returned Villon with a gulp. "Damn his fat +head!" he broke out. "It sticks in my throat like phlegm. What +right has a man to have red hair when he is dead?" And he fell all +of a heap again upon the stool, and fairly covered his face with +his hands. + +Montigny and Dom Nicolas laughed aloud, even Tabary feebly chiming +in. + +"Cry baby," said the monk. + +"I always said he was a woman," added Montigny with a sneer. "Sit +up, can't you?" he went on, giving another shake to the murdered +body. "Tread out that fire, Nick!" + +But Nick was better employed; he was quietly taking Villon's purse, +as the poet sat, limp and trembling, on the stool where he had been +making a ballade not three minutes before. Montigny and Tabary +dumbly demanded a share of the booty, which the monk silently +promised as he passed the little bag into the bosom of his gown. +In many ways an artistic nature unfits a man for practical +existence. + +No sooner had the theft been accomplished than Villon shook +himself, jumped to his feet, and began helping to scatter and +extinguish the embers. Meanwhile Montigny opened the door and +cautiously peered into the street. The coast was clear; there was +no meddlesome patrol in sight. Still it was judged wiser to slip +out severally; and as Villon was himself in a hurry to escape from +the neighbourhood of the dead Thevenin, and the rest were in a +still greater hurry to get rid of him before he should discover the +loss of his money, he was the first by general consent to issue +forth into the street. + +The wind had triumphed and swept all the clouds from heaven. Only +a few vapours, as thin as moonlight, fleeting rapidly across the +stars. It was bitter cold; and by a common optical effect, things +seemed almost more definite than in the broadest daylight. The +sleeping city was absolutely still: a company of white hoods, a +field full of little Alps, below the twinkling stars. Villon +cursed his fortune. Would it were still snowing! Now, wherever he +went, he left an indelible trail behind him on the glittering +streets; wherever he went he was still tethered to the house by the +cemetery of St. John; wherever he went he must weave, with his own +plodding feet, the rope that bound him to the crime and would bind +him to the gallows. The leer of the dead man came back to him with +a new significance. He snapped his fingers as if to pluck up his +own spirits, and choosing a street at random, stepped boldly +forward in the snow. + +Two things preoccupied him as he went: the aspect of the gallows +at Montfaucon in this bright windy phase of the night's existence, +for one; and for another, the look of the dead man with his bald +head and garland of red curls. Both struck cold upon his heart, +and he kept quickening his pace as if he could escape from +unpleasant thoughts by mere fleetness of foot. Sometimes he looked +back over his shoulder with a sudden nervous jerk; but he was the +only moving thing in the white streets, except when the wind +swooped round a corner and threw up the snow, which was beginning +to freeze, in spouts of glittering dust. + +Suddenly he saw, a long way before him, a black clump and a couple +of lanterns. The clump was in motion, and the lanterns swung as +though carried by men walking. It was a patrol. And though it was +merely crossing his line of march, he judged it wiser to get out of +eyeshot as speedily as he could. He was not in the humour to be +challenged, and he was conscious of making a very conspicuous mark +upon the snow. Just on his left hand there stood a great hotel, +with some turrets and a large porch before the door; it was half- +ruinous, he remembered, and had long stood empty; and so he made +three steps of it and jumped into the shelter of the porch. It was +pretty dark inside, after the glimmer of the snowy streets, and he +was groping forward with outspread hands, when he stumbled over +some substance which offered an indescribable mixture of +resistances, hard and soft, firm and loose. His heart gave a leap, +and he sprang two steps back and stared dreadfully at the obstacle. +Then he gave a little laugh of relief. It was only a woman, and +she dead. He knelt beside her to make sure upon this latter point. +She was freezing cold, and rigid like a stick. A little ragged +finery fluttered in the wind about her hair, and her cheeks had +been heavily rouged that same afternoon. Her pockets were quite +empty; but in her stocking, underneath the garter, Villon found two +of the small coins that went by the name of whites. It was little +enough; but it was always something; and the poet was moved with a +deep sense of pathos that she should have died before she had spent +her money. That seemed to him a dark and pitiable mystery; and he +looked from the coins in his hand to the dead woman, and back again +to the coins, shaking his head over the riddle of man's life. +Henry V. of England, dying at Vincennes just after he had conquered +France, and this poor jade cut off by a cold draught in a great +man's doorway, before she had time to spend her couple of whites - +it seemed a cruel way to carry on the world. Two whites would have +taken such a little while to squander; and yet it would have been +one more good taste in the mouth, one more smack of the lips, +before the devil got the soul, and the body was left to birds and +vermin. He would like to use all his tallow before the light was +blown out and the lantern broken. + +While these thoughts were passing through his mind, he was feeling, +half mechanically, for his purse. Suddenly his heart stopped +beating; a feeling of cold scales passed up the back of his legs, +and a cold blow seemed to fall upon his scalp. He stood petrified +for a moment; then he felt again with one feverish movement; and +then his loss burst upon him, and he was covered at once with +perspiration. To spendthrifts money is so living and actual - it +is such a thin veil between them and their pleasures! There is +only one limit to their fortune - that of time; and a spendthrift +with only a few crowns is the Emperor of Rome until they are spent. +For such a person to lose his money is to suffer the most shocking +reverse, and fall from heaven to hell, from all to nothing, in a +breath. And all the more if he has put his head in the halter for +it; if he may be hanged to-morrow for that same purse, so dearly +earned, so foolishly departed! Villon stood and cursed; he threw +the two whites into the street; he shook his fist at heaven; he +stamped, and was not horrified to find himself trampling the poor +corpse. Then he began rapidly to retrace his steps towards the +house beside the cemetery. He had forgotten all fear of the +patrol, which was long gone by at any rate, and had no idea but +that of his lost purse. It was in vain that he looked right and +left upon the snow: nothing was to be seen. He had not dropped it +in the streets. Had it fallen in the house? He would have liked +dearly to go in and see; but the idea of the grisly occupant +unmanned him. And he saw besides, as he drew near, that their +efforts to put out the fire had been unsuccessful; on the contrary, +it had broken into a blaze, and a changeful light played in the +chinks of door and window, and revived his terror for the +authorities and Paris gibbet. + +He returned to the hotel with the porch, and groped about upon the +snow for the money he had thrown away in his childish passion. But +he could only find one white; the other had probably struck +sideways and sunk deeply in. With a single white in his pocket, +all his projects for a rousing night in some wild tavern vanished +utterly away. And it was not only pleasure that fled laughing from +his grasp; positive discomfort, positive pain, attacked him as he +stood ruefully before the porch. His perspiration had dried upon +him; and though the wind had now fallen, a binding frost was +setting in stronger with every hour, and be felt benumbed and sick +at heart. What was to be done? Late as was the hour, improbable +as was success, he would try the house of his adopted father, the +chaplain of St. Benoit. + +He ran there all the way, and knocked timidly. There was no +answer. He knocked again and again, taking heart with every +stroke; and at last steps were heard approaching from within. A +barred wicket fell open in the iron-studded door, and emitted a +gush of yellow light. + +"Hold up your face to the wicket," said the chaplain from within. + +"It's only me," whimpered Villon. + +"Oh, it's only you, is it?" returned the chaplain; and he cursed +him with foul unpriestly oaths for disturbing him at such an hour, +and bade him be off to hell, where he came from. + +"My hands are blue to the wrist," pleaded Villon; "my feet are dead +and full of twinges; my nose aches with the sharp air; the cold +lies at my heart. I may be dead before morning. Only this once, +father, and before God I will never ask again!" + +"You should have come earlier," said the ecclesiastic coolly. +"Young men require a lesson now and then." He shut the wicket and +retired deliberately into the interior of the house. + +Villon was beside himself; he beat upon the door with his hands and +feet, and shouted hoarsely after the chaplain. + +"Wormy old fox!" he cried. "If I had my hand under your twist, I +would send you flying headlong into the bottomless pit." + +A door shut in the interior, faintly audible to the poet down long +passages. He passed his hand over his mouth with an oath. And +then the humour of the situation struck him, and he laughed and +looked lightly up to heaven, where the stars seemed to be winking +over his discomfiture. + +What was to be done? It looked very like a night in the frosty +streets. The idea of the dead woman popped into his imagination, +and gave him a hearty fright; what had happened to her in the early +night might very well happen to him before morning. And he so +young! and with such immense possibilities of disorderly amusement +before him! He felt quite pathetic over the notion of his own +fate, as if it had been some one else's, and made a little +imaginative vignette of the scene in the morning when they should +find his body. + +He passed all his chances under review, turning the white between +his thumb and forefinger. Unfortunately he was on bad terms with +some old friends who would once have taken pity on him in such a +plight. He had lampooned them in verses, he had beaten and cheated +them; and yet now, when he was in so close a pinch, he thought +there was at least one who might perhaps relent. It was a chance. +It was worth trying at least, and he would go and see. + +On the way, two little accidents happened to him which coloured his +musings in a very different manner. For, first, he fell in with +the track of a patrol, and walked in it for some hundred yards, +although it lay out of his direction. And this spirited him up; at +least he had confused his trail; for he was still possessed with +the idea of people tracking him all about Paris over the snow, and +collaring him next morning before he was awake. The other matter +affected him very differently. He passed a street corner, where, +not so long before, a woman and her child had been devoured by +wolves. This was just the kind of weather, he reflected, when +wolves might take it into their heads to enter Paris again; and a +lone man in these deserted streets would run the chance of +something worse than a mere scare. He stopped and looked upon the +place with an unpleasant interest - it was a centre where several +lanes intersected each other; and he looked down them all one after +another, and held his breath to listen, lest he should detect some +galloping black things on the snow or hear the sound of howling +between him and the river. He remembered his mother telling him +the story and pointing out the spot, while he was yet a child. His +mother! If he only knew where she lived, he might make sure at +least of shelter. He determined he would inquire upon the morrow; +nay, he would go and see her too, poor old girl! So thinking, he +arrived at his destination - his last hope for the night. + +The house was quite dark, like its neighbours; and yet after a few +taps, he heard a movement overhead, a door opening, and a cautious +voice asking who was there. The poet named himself in a loud +whisper, and waited, not without come trepidation, the result. Nor +had he to wait long. A window was suddenly opened, and a pailful +of slops splashed down upon the doorstep. Villon had not been +unprepared for something of the sort, and had put himself as much +in shelter as the nature of the porch admitted; but for all that, +he was deplorably drenched below the waist. His hose began to +freeze almost at once. Death from cold and exposure stared him in +the face; he remembered he was of phthisical tendency, and began +coughing tentatively. But the gravity of the danger steadied his +nerves. He stopped a few hundred yards from the door where he had +been so rudely used, and reflected with his finger to his nose. He +could only see one way of getting a lodging, and that was to take +it. He had noticed a house not far away, which looked as if it +might be easily broken into, and thither he betook himself +promptly, entertaining himself on the way with the idea of a room +still hot, with a table still loaded with the remains of supper, +where he might pass the rest of the black hours, and whence he +should issue, on the morrow, with an armful of valuable plate. He +even considered on what viands and what wines he should prefer; and +as he was calling the roll of his favourite dainties, roast fish +presented itself to his mind with an odd mixture of amusement and +horror. + +"I shall never finish that ballade," he thought to himself; and +then, with another shudder at the recollection, "Oh, damn his fat +head!" he repeated fervently, and spat upon the snow. + +The house in question looked dark at first sight; but as Villon +made a preliminary inspection in search of the handiest point of +attack, a little twinkle of light caught his eye from behind a +curtained window. + +"The devil!" he thought. "People awake! Some student or some +saint, confound the crew! Can't they get drunk and lie in bed +snoring like their neighbours? What's the good of curfew, and poor +devils of bell-ringers jumping at a rope's end in bell-towers? +What's the use of day, if people sit up all night? The gripes to +them!" He grinned as he saw where his logic was leading him. +"Every man to his business, after all," added he, "and if they're +awake, by the Lord, I may come by a supper honestly for this once, +and cheat the devil." + +He went boldly to the door and knocked with an assured hand. On +both previous occasions, he had knocked timidly and with some dread +of attracting notice; but now when he had just discarded the +thought of a burglarious entry, knocking at a door seemed a mighty +simple and innocent proceeding. The sound of his blows echoed +through the house with thin, phantasmal reverberations, as though +it were quite empty; but these had scarcely died away before a +measured tread drew near, a couple of bolts were withdrawn, and one +wing was opened broadly, as though no guile or fear of guile were +known to those within. A tall figure of a man, muscular and spare, +but a little bent, confronted Villon. The head was massive in +bulk, but finely sculptured; the nose blunt at the bottom, but +refining upward to where it joined a pair of strong and honest +eyebrows; the mouth and eyes surrounded with delicate markings, and +the whole face based upon a thick white beard, boldly and squarely +trimmed. Seen as it was by the light of a flickering hand-lamp, it +looked perhaps nobler than it had a right to do; but it was a fine +face, honourable rather than intelligent, strong, simple, and +righteous. + +"You knock late, sir," said the old man in resonant, courteous +tones. + +Villon cringed, and brought up many servile words of apology; at a +crisis of this sort, the beggar was uppermost in him, and the man +of genius hid his head with confusion. + +"You are cold," repeated the old man, "and hungry? Well, step in." +And he ordered him into the house with a noble enough gesture. + +"Some great seigneur," thought Villon, as his host, setting down +the lamp on the flagged pavement of the entry, shot the bolts once +more into their places. + +"You will pardon me if I go in front," he said, when this was done; +and he preceded the poet upstairs into a large apartment, warmed +with a pan of charcoal and lit by a great lamp hanging from the +roof. It was very bare of furniture: only some gold plate on a +sideboard; some folios; and a stand of armour between the windows. +Some smart tapestry hung upon the walls, representing the +crucifixion of our Lord in one piece, and in another a scene of +shepherds and shepherdesses by a running stream. Over the chimney +was a shield of arms. + +"Will you seat yourself," said the old man, "and forgive me if I +leave you? I am alone in my house to-night, and if you are to eat +I must forage for you myself." + +No sooner was his host gone than Villon leaped from the chair on +which he had just seated himself, and began examining the room, +with the stealth and passion of a cat. He weighed the gold flagons +in his hand, opened all the folios, and investigated the arms upon +the shield, and the stuff with which the seats were lined. He +raised the window curtains, and saw that the windows were set with +rich stained glass in figures, so far as he could see, of martial +import. Then he stood in the middle of the room, drew a long +breath, and retaining it with puffed cheeks, looked round and round +him, turning on his heels, as if to impress every feature of the +apartment on his memory. + +"Seven pieces of plate," he said. "If there had been ten, I would +have risked it. A fine house, and a fine old master, so help me +all the saints!" + +And just then, hearing the old man's tread returning along the +corridor, he stole back to his chair, and began humbly toasting his +wet legs before the charcoal pan. + +His entertainer had a plate of meat in one hand and a jug of wine +in the other. He set down the plate upon the table, motioning +Villon to draw in his chair, and going to the sideboard, brought +back two goblets, which he filled. + +"I drink to your better fortune," he said, gravely touching +Villon's cup with his own. + +"To our better acquaintance," said the poet, growing bold. A mere +man of the people would have been awed by the courtesy of the old +seigneur, but Villon was hardened in that matter; he had made mirth +for great lords before now, and found them as black rascals as +himself. And so he devoted himself to the viands with a ravenous +gusto, while the old man, leaning backward, watched him with +steady, curious eyes. + +"You have blood on your shoulder, my man," he said. Montigny must +have laid his wet right hand upon him as he left the house. He +cursed Montigny in his heart. + +"It was none of my shedding," he stammered. + +"I had not supposed so," returned his host quietly. + +"A brawl?" + +"Well, something of that sort," Villon admitted with a quaver. + +"Perhaps a fellow murdered?" + +"Oh no, not murdered," said the poet, more and more confused. "It +was all fair play - murdered by accident. I had no hand in it, God +strike me dead!" he added fervently. + +"One rogue the fewer, I dare say," observed the master of the +house. + +"You may dare to say that," agreed Villon, infinitely relieved. +"As big a rogue as there is between here and Jerusalem. He turned +up his toes like a lamb. But it was a nasty thing to look at. I +dare say you've seen dead men in your time, my lord?" he added, +glancing at the armour. + +"Many," said the old man. "I have followed the wars, as you +imagine." + +Villon laid down his knife and fork, which he had just taken up +again. + +"Were any of them bald?" he asked. + +"Oh yes, and with hair as white as mine." + +"I don't think I should mind the white so much," said Villon. "His +was red." And he had a return of his shuddering and tendency to +laughter, which he drowned with a great draught of wine. "I'm a +little put out when I think of it," he went on. "I knew him - damn +him! And then the cold gives a man fancies - or the fancies give a +man cold, I don't know which." + +"Have you any money?" asked the old man. + +"I have one white," returned the poet, laughing. "I got it out of +a dead jade's stocking in a porch. She was as dead as Caesar, poor +wench, and as cold as a church, with bits of ribbon sticking in her +hair. This is a hard world in winter for wolves and wenches and +poor rogues like me." + +"I," said the old man, "am Enguerrand de la Feuillee, seigneur de +Brisetout, bailly du Patatrac. Who and what may you be?" + +Villon rose and made a suitable reverence. "I am called Francis +Villon," he said, "a poor Master of Arts of this university. I +know some Latin, and a deal of vice. I can make chansons, +ballades, lais, virelais, and roundels, and I am very fond of wine. +I was born in a garret, and I shall not improbably die upon the +gallows. I may add, my lord, that from this night forward I am +your lordship's very obsequious servant to command." + +"No servant of mine," said the knight; "my guest for this evening, +and no more." + +"A very grateful guest," said Villon politely; and he drank in dumb +show to his entertainer. + +"You are shrewd," began the old man, tapping his forehead, "very +shrewd; you have learning; you are a clerk; and yet you take a +small piece of money off a dead woman in the street. Is it not a +kind of theft?" + +"It is a kind of theft much practised in the wars, my lord." + +"The wars are the field of honour," returned the old man proudly. +"There a man plays his life upon the cast; he fights in the name of +his lord the king, his Lord God, and all their lordships the holy +saints and angels." + +"Put it," said Villon, "that I were really a thief, should I not +play my life also, and against heavier odds?" + +"For gain, but not for honour." + +"Gain?" repeated Villon with a shrug. "Gain! The poor fellow +wants supper, and takes it. So does the soldier in a campaign. +Why, what are all these requisitions we hear so much about? If +they are not gain to those who take them, they are loss enough to +the others. The men-at-arms drink by a good fire, while the +burgher bites his nails to buy them wine and wood. I have seen a +good many ploughmen swinging on trees about the country, ay, I have +seen thirty on one elm, and a very poor figure they made; and when +I asked some one how all these came to be hanged, I was told it was +because they could not scrape together enough crowns to satisfy the +men-at-arms." + +"These things are a necessity of war, which the low-born must +endure with constancy. It is true that some captains drive over +hard; there are spirits in every rank not easily moved by pity; and +indeed many follow arms who are no better than brigands." + +"You see," said the poet, "you cannot separate the soldier from the +brigand; and what is a thief but an isolated brigand with +circumspect manners? I steal a couple of mutton chops, without so +much as disturbing people's sleep; the farmer grumbles a bit, but +sups none the less wholesomely on what remains. You come up +blowing gloriously on a trumpet, take away the whole sheep, and +beat the farmer pitifully into the bargain. I have no trumpet; I +am only Tom, Dick, or Harry; I am a rogue and a dog, and hanging's +too good for me - with all my heart; but just you ask the farmer +which of us he prefers, just find out which of us he lies awake to +curse on cold nights." + +"Look at us two," said his lordship. "I am old, strong, and +honoured. If I were turned from my house to-morrow, hundreds would +be proud to shelter me. Poor people would go out and pass the +night in the streets with their children, if I merely hinted that I +wished to be alone. And I find you up, wandering homeless, and +picking farthings off dead women by the wayside! I fear no man and +nothing; I have seen you tremble and lose countenance at a word. I +wait God's summons contentedly in my own house, or, if it please +the king to call me out again, upon the field of battle. You look +for the gallows; a rough, swift death, without hope or honour. Is +there no difference between these two?" + +"As far as to the moon," Villon acquiesced. "But if I had been +born lord of Brisetout, and you had been the poor scholar Francis, +would the difference have been any the less? Should not I have +been warming my knees at this charcoal pan, and would not you have +been groping for farthings in the snow? Should not I have been the +soldier, and you the thief?" + +"A thief!" cried the old man. "I a thief! If you understood your +words, you would repent them." + +Villon turned out his hands with a gesture of inimitable impudence. +"If your lordship had done me the honour to follow my argument!" he +said. + +"I do you too much honour in submitting to your presence," said the +knight. "Learn to curb your tongue when you speak with old and +honourable men, or some one hastier than I may reprove you in a +sharper fashion." And he rose and paced the lower end of the +apartment, struggling with anger and antipathy. Villon +surreptitiously refilled his cup, and settled himself more +comfortably in the chair, crossing his knees and leaning his head +upon one hand and the elbow against the back of the chair. He was +now replete and warm; and he was in nowise frightened for his host, +having gauged him as justly as was possible between two such +different characters. The night was far spent, and in a very +comfortable fashion after all; and he felt morally certain of a +safe departure on the morrow. + +"Tell me one thing," said the old man, pausing in his walk. "Are +you really a thief?" + +"I claim the sacred rights of hospitality," returned the poet. "My +lord, I am." + +"You are very young," the knight continued. + +"I should never have been so old," replied Villon, showing his +fingers, "if I had not helped myself with these ten talents. They +have been my nursing mothers and my nursing fathers." + +"You may still repent and change." + +"I repent daily," said the poet. "There are few people more given +to repentance than poor Francis. As for change, let somebody +change my circumstances. A man must continue to eat, if it were +only that he may continue to repent." + +"The change must begin in the heart," returned the old man +solemnly. + +"My dear lord," answered Villon, "do you really fancy that I steal +for pleasure? I hate stealing, like any other piece of work or of +danger. My teeth chatter when I see a gallows. But I must eat, I +must drink, I must mix in society of some sort. What the devil! +Man is not a solitary animal - CUI DEUS FAEMINAM TRADIT. Make me +king's pantler - make me abbot of St. Denis; make me bailly of the +Patatrac; and then I shall be changed indeed. But as long as you +leave me the poor scholar Francis Villon, without a farthing, why, +of course, I remain the same." + +"The grace of God is all-powerful." + +"I should be a heretic to question it," said Francis. "It has made +you lord of Brisetout and bailly of the Patatrac; it has given me +nothing but the quick wits under my hat and these ten toes upon my +hands. May I help myself to wine? I thank you respectfully. By +God's grace, you have a very superior vintage." + +The lord of Brisetout walked to and fro with his hands behind his +back. Perhaps he was not yet quite settled in his mind about the +parallel between thieves and soldiers; perhaps Villon had +interested him by some cross-thread of sympathy; perhaps his wits +were simply muddled by so much unfamiliar reasoning; but whatever +the cause, he somehow yearned to convert the young man to a better +way of thinking, and could not make up his mind to drive him forth +again into the street. + +"There is something more than I can understand in this," he said at +length. "Your mouth is full of subtleties, and the devil has led +you very far astray; but the devil is only a very weak spirit +before God's truth, and all his subtleties vanish at a word of true +honour, like darkness at morning. Listen to me once more. I +learned long ago that a gentleman should live chivalrously and +lovingly to God, and the king, and his lady; and though I have seen +many strange things done, I have still striven to command my ways +upon that rule. It is not only written in all noble histories, but +in every man's heart, if he will take care to read. You speak of +food and wine, and I know very well that hunger is a difficult +trial to endure; but you do not speak of other wants; you say +nothing of honour, of faith to God and other men, of courtesy, of +love without reproach. It may be that I am not very wise - and yet +I think I am - but you seem to me like one who has lost his way and +made a great error in life. You are attending to the little wants, +and you have totally forgotten the great and only real ones, like a +man who should be doctoring a toothache on the Judgment Day. For +such things as honour and love and faith are not only nobler than +food and drink, but indeed I think that we desire them more, and +suffer more sharply for their absence. I speak to you as I think +you will most easily understand me. Are you not, while careful to +fill your belly, disregarding another appetite in your heart, which +spoils the pleasure of your life and keeps you continually +wretched?" + +Villon was sensibly nettled under all this sermonising. "You think +I have no sense of honour!" he cried. "I'm poor enough, God knows! +It's hard to see rich people with their gloves, and you blowing in +your hands. An empty belly is a bitter thing, although you speak +so lightly of it. If you had had as many as I, perhaps you would +change your tune. Any way I'm a thief - make the most of that - +but I'm not a devil from hell, God strike me dead. I would have +you to know I've an honour of my own, as good as yours, though I +don't prate about it all day long, as if it was a God's miracle to +have any. It seems quite natural to me; I keep it in its box till +it's wanted. Why now, look you here, how long have I been in this +room with you? Did you not tell me you were alone in the house? +Look at your gold plate! You're strong, if you like, but you're +old and unarmed, and I have my knife. What did I want but a jerk +of the elbow and here would have been you with the cold steel in +your bowels, and there would have been me, linking in the streets, +with an armful of gold cups! Did you suppose I hadn't wit enough +to see that? And I scorned the action. There are your damned +goblets, as safe as in a church; there are you, with your heart +ticking as good as new; and here am I, ready to go out again as +poor as I came in, with my one white that you threw in my teeth! +And you think I have no sense of honour - God strike me dead!" + +The old man stretched out his right arm. "I will tell you what you +are," he said. "You are a rogue, my man, an impudent and a black- +hearted rogue and vagabond. I have passed an hour with you. Oh! +believe me, I feel myself disgraced! And you have eaten and drunk +at my table. But now I am sick at your presence; the day has come, +and the night-bird should be off to his roost. Will you go before, +or after?" + +"Which you please," returned the poet, rising. "I believe you to +be strictly honourable." He thoughtfully emptied his cup. "I wish +I could add you were intelligent," he went on, knocking on his head +with his knuckles. "Age, age! the brains stiff and rheumatic." + +The old man preceded him from a point of self-respect; Villon +followed, whistling, with his thumbs in his girdle. + +"God pity you," said the lord of Brisetout at the door. + +"Good-bye, papa," returned Villon with a yawn. "Many thanks for +the cold mutton." + +The door closed behind him. The dawn was breaking over the white +roofs. A chill, uncomfortable morning ushered in the day. Villon +stood and heartily stretched himself in the middle of the road. + +"A very dull old gentleman," he thought. "I wonder what his +goblets may be worth." + + + + +THE SIRE DE MALETROIT'S DOOR + + + + +Denis de Beaulieu was not yet two-and-twenty, but he counted +himself a grown man, and a very accomplished cavalier into the +bargain. Lads were early formed in that rough, warfaring epoch; +and when one has been in a pitched battle and a dozen raids, has +killed one's man in an honourable fashion, and knows a thing or two +of strategy and mankind, a certain swagger in the gait is surely to +be pardoned. He had put up his horse with due care, and supped +with due deliberation; and then, in a very agreeable frame of mind, +went out to pay a visit in the grey of the evening. It was not a +very wise proceeding on the young man's part. He would have done +better to remain beside the fire or go decently to bed. For the +town was full of the troops of Burgundy and England under a mixed +command; and though Denis was there on safe-conduct, his safe- +conduct was like to serve him little on a chance encounter. + +It was September 1429; the weather had fallen sharp; a flighty +piping wind, laden with showers, beat about the township; and the +dead leaves ran riot along the streets. Here and there a window +was already lighted up; and the noise of men-at-arms making merry +over supper within, came forth in fits and was swallowed up and +carried away by the wind. The night fell swiftly; the flag of +England, fluttering on the spire-top, grew ever fainter and fainter +against the flying clouds - a black speck like a swallow in the +tumultuous, leaden chaos of the sky. As the night fell the wind +rose, and began to hoot under archways and roar amid the tree-tops +in the valley below the town. + +Denis de Beaulieu walked fast and was soon knocking at his friend's +door; but though he promised himself to stay only a little while +and make an early return, his welcome was so pleasant, and he found +so much to delay him, that it was already long past midnight before +he said good-bye upon the threshold. The wind had fallen again in +the meanwhile; the night was as black as the grave; not a star, nor +a glimmer of moonshine, slipped through the canopy of cloud. Denis +was ill-acquainted with the intricate lanes of Chateau Landon; even +by daylight he had found some trouble in picking his way; and in +this absolute darkness he soon lost it altogether. He was certain +of one thing only - to keep mounting the hill; for his friend's +house lay at the lower end, or tail, of Chateau Landon, while the +inn was up at the head, under the great church spire. With this +clue to go upon he stumbled and groped forward, now breathing more +freely in open places where there was a good slice of sky overhead, +now feeling along the wall in stifling closes. It is an eerie and +mysterious position to be thus submerged in opaque blackness in an +almost unknown town. The silence is terrifying in its +possibilities. The touch of cold window bars to the exploring hand +startles the man like the touch of a toad; the inequalities of the +pavement shake his heart into his mouth; a piece of denser darkness +threatens an ambuscade or a chasm in the pathway; and where the air +is brighter, the houses put on strange and bewildering appearances, +as if to lead him farther from his way. For Denis, who had to +regain his inn without attracting notice, there was real danger as +well as mere discomfort in the walk; and he went warily and boldly +at once, and at every corner paused to make an observation. + +He had been for some time threading a lane so narrow that he could +touch a wall with either hand, when it began to open out and go +sharply downward. Plainly this lay no longer in the direction of +his inn; but the hope of a little more light tempted him forward to +reconnoitre. The lane ended in a terrace with a bartizan wall, +which gave an out-look between high houses, as out of an embrasure, +into the valley lying dark and formless several hundred feet below. +Denis looked down, and could discern a few tree-tops waving and a +single speck of brightness where the river ran across a weir. The +weather was clearing up, and the sky had lightened, so as to show +the outline of the heavier clouds and the dark margin of the hills. +By the uncertain glimmer, the house on his left hand should be a +place of some pretensions; it was surmounted by several pinnacles +and turret-tops; the round stern of a chapel, with a fringe of +flying buttresses, projected boldly from the main block; and the +door was sheltered under a deep porch carved with figures and +overhung by two long gargoyles. The windows of the chapel gleamed +through their intricate tracery with a light as of many tapers, and +threw out the buttresses and the peaked roof in a more intense +blackness against the sky. It was plainly the hotel of some great +family of the neighbourhood; and as it reminded Denis of a town +house of his own at Bourges, he stood for some time gazing up at it +and mentally gauging the skill of the architects and the +consideration of the two families. + +There seemed to be no issue to the terrace but the lane by which he +had reached it; he could only retrace his steps, but he had gained +some notion of his whereabouts, and hoped by this means to hit the +main thoroughfare and speedily regain the inn. He was reckoning +without that chapter of accidents which was to make this night +memorable above all others in his career; for he had not gone back +above a hundred yards before he saw a light coming to meet him, and +heard loud voices speaking together in the echoing narrows of the +lane. It was a party of men-at-arms going the night round with +torches. Denis assured himself that they had all been making free +with the wine-bowl, and were in no mood to be particular about +safe-conducts or the niceties of chivalrous war. It was as like as +not that they would kill him like a dog and leave him where he +fell. The situation was inspiriting but nervous. Their own +torches would conceal him from sight, he reflected; and he hoped +that they would drown the noise of his footsteps with their own +empty voices. If he were but fleet and silent, he might evade +their notice altogether. + +Unfortunately, as he turned to beat a retreat, his foot rolled upon +a pebble; he fell against the wall with an ejaculation, and his +sword rang loudly on the stones. Two or three voices demanded who +went there - some in French, some in English; but Denis made no +reply, and ran the faster down the lane. Once upon the terrace, he +paused to look back. They still kept calling after him, and just +then began to double the pace in pursuit, with a considerable clank +of armour, and great tossing of the torchlight to and fro in the +narrow jaws of the passage. + +Denis cast a look around and darted into the porch. There he might +escape observation, or - if that were too much to expect - was in a +capital posture whether for parley or defence. So thinking, he +drew his sword and tried to set his back against the door. To his +surprise, it yielded behind his weight; and though he turned in a +moment, continued to swing back on oiled and noiseless hinges, +until it stood wide open on a black interior. When things fall out +opportunely for the person concerned, he is not apt to be critical +about the how or why, his own immediate personal convenience +seeming a sufficient reason for the strangest oddities and +resolutions in our sublunary things; and so Denis, without a +moment's hesitation, stepped within and partly closed the door +behind him to conceal his place of refuge. Nothing was further +from his thoughts than to close it altogether; but for some +inexplicable reason - perhaps by a spring or a weight - the +ponderous mass of oak whipped itself out of his fingers and clanked +to, with a formidable rumble and a noise like the falling of an +automatic bar. + +The round, at that very moment, debauched upon the terrace and +proceeded to summon him with shouts and curses. He heard them +ferreting in the dark corners; the stock of a lance even rattled +along the outer surface of the door behind which he stood; but +these gentlemen were in too high a humour to be long delayed, and +soon made off down a corkscrew pathway which had escaped Denis's +observation, and passed out of sight and hearing along the +battlements of the town. + +Denis breathed again. He gave them a few minutes' grace for fear +of accidents, and then groped about for some means of opening the +door and slipping forth again. The inner surface was quite smooth, +not a handle, not a moulding, not a projection of any sort. He got +his finger-nails round the edges and pulled, but the mass was +immovable. He shook it, it was as firm as a rock. Denis de +Beaulieu frowned and gave vent to a little noiseless whistle. What +ailed the door? he wondered. Why was it open? How came it to shut +so easily and so effectually after him? There was something +obscure and underhand about all this, that was little to the young +man's fancy. It looked like a snare; and yet who could suppose a +snare in such a quiet by-street and in a house of so prosperous and +even noble an exterior? And yet - snare or no snare, intentionally +or unintentionally - here he was, prettily trapped; and for the +life of him he could see no way out of it again. The darkness +began to weigh upon him. He gave ear; all was silent without, but +within and close by he seemed to catch a faint sighing, a faint +sobbing rustle, a little stealthy creak - as though many persons +were at his side, holding themselves quite still, and governing +even their respiration with the extreme of slyness. The idea went +to his vitals with a shock, and he faced about suddenly as if to +defend his life. Then, for the first time, he became aware of a +light about the level of his eyes and at some distance in the +interior of the house - a vertical thread of light, widening +towards the bottom, such as might escape between two wings of arras +over a doorway. To see anything was a relief to Denis; it was like +a piece of solid ground to a man labouring in a morass; his mind +seized upon it with avidity; and he stood staring at it and trying +to piece together some logical conception of his surroundings. +Plainly there was a flight of steps ascending from his own level to +that of this illuminated doorway; and indeed he thought he could +make out another thread of light, as fine as a needle and as faint +as phosphorescence, which might very well be reflected along the +polished wood of a handrail. Since he had begun to suspect that he +was not alone, his heart had continued to beat with smothering +violence, and an intolerable desire for action of any sort had +possessed itself of his spirit. He was in deadly peril, he +believed. What could be more natural than to mount the staircase, +lift the curtain, and confront his difficulty at once? At least he +would be dealing with something tangible; at least he would be no +longer in the dark. He stepped slowly forward with outstretched +hands, until his foot struck the bottom step; then he rapidly +scaled the stairs, stood for a moment to compose his expression, +lifted the arras and went in. + +He found himself in a large apartment of polished stone. There +were three doors; one on each of three sides; all similarly +curtained with tapestry. The fourth side was occupied by two large +windows and a great stone chimney-piece, carved with the arms of +the Maletroits. Denis recognised the bearings, and was gratified +to find himself in such good hands. The room was strongly +illuminated; but it contained little furniture except a heavy table +and a chair or two, the hearth was innocent of fire, and the +pavement was but sparsely strewn with rushes clearly many days old. + +On a high chair beside the chimney, and directly facing Denis as he +entered, sat a little old gentleman in a fur tippet. He sat with +his legs crossed and his hands folded, and a cup of spiced wine +stood by his elbow on a bracket on the wall. His countenance had a +strongly masculine cast; not properly human, but such as we see in +the bull, the goat, or the domestic boar; something equivocal and +wheedling, something greedy, brutal, and dangerous. The upper lip +was inordinately full, as though swollen by a blow or a toothache; +and the smile, the peaked eyebrows, and the small, strong eyes were +quaintly and almost comically evil in expression. Beautiful white +hair hung straight all round his head, like a saint's, and fell in +a single curl upon the tippet. His beard and moustache were the +pink of venerable sweetness. Age, probably in consequence of +inordinate precautions, had left no mark upon his hands; and the +Maletroit hand was famous. It would be difficult to imagine +anything at once so fleshy and so delicate in design; the taper, +sensual fingers were like those of one of Leonardo's women; the +fork of the thumb made a dimpled protuberance when closed; the +nails were perfectly shaped, and of a dead, surprising whiteness. +It rendered his aspect tenfold more redoubtable, that a man with +hands like these should keep them devoutly folded in his lap like a +virgin martyr - that a man with so intense and startling an +expression of face should sit patiently on his seat and contemplate +people with an unwinking stare, like a god, or a god's statue. His +quiescence seemed ironical and treacherous, it fitted so poorly +with his looks. + +Such was Alain, Sire de Maletroit. + +Denis and he looked silently at each other for a second or two. + +"Pray step in," said the Sire de Maletroit. "I have been expecting +you all the evening." + +He had not risen, but he accompanied his words with a smile and a +slight but courteous inclination of the head. Partly from the +smile, partly from the strange musical murmur with which the Sire +prefaced his observation, Denis felt a strong shudder of disgust go +through his marrow. And what with disgust and honest confusion of +mind, he could scarcely get words together in reply. + +"I fear," he said, "that this is a double accident. I am not the +person you suppose me. It seems you were looking for a visit; but +for my part, nothing was further from my thoughts - nothing could +be more contrary to my wishes - than this intrusion." + +"Well, well," replied the old gentleman indulgently, "here you are, +which is the main point. Seat yourself, my friend, and put +yourself entirely at your ease. We shall arrange our little +affairs presently." + +Denis perceived that the matter was still complicated with some +misconception, and he hastened to continue his explanations. + +"Your door . . . " he began. + +"About my door?" asked the other, raising his peaked eyebrows. "A +little piece of ingenuity." And he shrugged his shoulders. "A +hospitable fancy! By your own account, you were not desirous of +making my acquaintance. We old people look for such reluctance now +and then; and when it touches our honour, we cast about until we +find some way of overcoming it. You arrive uninvited, but believe +me, very welcome." + +"You persist in error, sir," said Denis. "There can be no question +between you and me. I am a stranger in this countryside. My name +is Denis, damoiseau de Beaulieu. If you see me in your house, it +is only - " + +"My young friend," interrupted the other, "you will permit me to +have my own ideas on that subject. They probably differ from yours +at the present moment," he added with a leer, "but time will show +which of us is in the right." + +Denis was convinced he had to do with a lunatic. He seated himself +with a shrug, content to wait the upshot; and a pause ensued, +during which he thought he could distinguish a hurried gabbling as +of prayer from behind the arras immediately opposite him. +Sometimes there seemed to be but one person engaged, sometimes two; +and the vehemence of the voice, low as it was, seemed to indicate +either great haste or an agony of spirit. It occurred to him that +this piece of tapestry covered the entrance to the chapel he had +noticed from without. + +The old gentleman meanwhile surveyed Denis from head to foot with a +smile, and from time to time emitted little noises like a bird or a +mouse, which seemed to indicate a high degree of satisfaction. +This state of matters became rapidly insupportable; and Denis, to +put an end to it, remarked politely that the wind had gone down. + +The old gentleman fell into a fit of silent laughter, so prolonged +and violent that he became quite red in the face. Denis got upon +his feet at once, and put on his hat with a flourish. + +"Sir," he said, "if you are in your wits, you have affronted me +grossly. If you are out of them, I flatter myself I can find +better employment for my brains than to talk with lunatics. My +conscience is clear; you have made a fool of me from the first +moment; you have refused to hear my explanations; and now there is +no power under God will make me stay here any longer; and if I +cannot make my way out in a more decent fashion, I will hack your +door in pieces with my sword." + +The Sire de Maletroit raised his right hand and wagged it at Denis +with the fore and little fingers extended. + +"My dear nephew," he said, "sit down." + +"Nephew!" retorted Denis, "you lie in your throat;" and he snapped +his fingers in his face. + +"Sit down, you rogue!" cried the old gentleman, in a sudden, harsh +voice, like the barking of a dog. "Do you fancy," he went on, +"that when I had made my little contrivance for the door I had +stopped short with that? If you prefer to be bound hand and foot +till your bones ache, rise and try to go away. If you choose to +remain a free young buck, agreeably conversing with an old +gentleman - why, sit where you are in peace, and God be with you." + +"Do you mean I am a prisoner?" demanded Denis. + +"I state the facts," replied the other. "I would rather leave the +conclusion to yourself." + +Denis sat down again. Externally he managed to keep pretty calm; +but within, he was now boiling with anger, now chilled with +apprehension. He no longer felt convinced that he was dealing with +a madman. And if the old gentleman was sane, what, in God's name, +had he to look for? What absurd or tragical adventure had befallen +him? What countenance was he to assume? + +While he was thus unpleasantly reflecting, the arras that overhung +the chapel door was raised, and a tall priest in his robes came +forth and, giving a long, keen stare at Denis, said something in an +undertone to Sire de Maletroit. + +"She is in a better frame of spirit?" asked the latter. + +"She is more resigned, messire," replied the priest. + +"Now the Lord help her, she is hard to please!" sneered the old +gentleman. "A likely stripling - not ill-born - and of her own +choosing, too? Why, what more would the jade have?" + +"The situation is not usual for a young damsel," said the other, +"and somewhat trying to her blushes." + +"She should have thought of that before she began the dance. It +was none of my choosing, God knows that: but since she is in it, +by our Lady, she shall carry it to the end." And then addressing +Denis, "Monsieur de Beaulieu," he asked, "may I present you to my +niece? She has been waiting your arrival, I may say, with even +greater impatience than myself." + +Denis had resigned himself with a good grace - all he desired was +to know the worst of it as speedily as possible; so he rose at +once, and bowed in acquiescence. The Sire de Maletroit followed +his example and limped, with the assistance of the chaplain's arm, +towards the chapel door. The priest pulled aside the arras, and +all three entered. The building had considerable architectural +pretensions. A light groining sprang from six stout columns, and +hung down in two rich pendants from the centre of the vault. The +place terminated behind the altar in a round end, embossed and +honeycombed with a superfluity of ornament in relief, and pierced +by many little windows shaped like stars, trefoils, or wheels. +These windows were imperfectly glazed, so that the night air +circulated freely in the chapel. The tapers, of which there must +have been half a hundred burning on the altar, were unmercifully +blown about; and the light went through many different phases of +brilliancy and semi-eclipse. On the steps in front of the altar +knelt a young girl richly attired as a bride. A chill settled over +Denis as he observed her costume; he fought with desperate energy +against the conclusion that was being thrust upon his mind; it +could not - it should not - be as he feared. + +"Blanche," said the Sire, in his most flute-like tones, "I have +brought a friend to see you, my little girl; turn round and give +him your pretty hand. It is good to be devout; but it is necessary +to be polite, my niece." + +The girl rose to her feet and turned towards the new comers. She +moved all of a piece; and shame and exhaustion were expressed in +every line of her fresh young body; and she held her head down and +kept her eyes upon the pavement, as she came slowly forward. In +the course of her advance, her eyes fell upon Denis de Beaulieu's +feet - feet of which he was justly vain, be it remarked, and wore +in the most elegant accoutrement even while travelling. She paused +- started, as if his yellow boots had conveyed some shocking +meaning - and glanced suddenly up into the wearer's countenance. +Their eyes met; shame gave place to horror and terror in her looks; +the blood left her lips; with a piercing scream she covered her +face with her hands and sank upon the chapel floor. + +"That is not the man!" she cried. "My uncle, that in not the man!" + +The Sire de Maletroit chirped agreeably. "Of course not," he said; +"I expected as much. It was so unfortunate you could not remember +his name." + +"Indeed," she cried, "indeed, I have never seen this person till +this moment - I have never so much as set eyes upon him - I never +wish to see him again. Sir," she said, turning to Denis, "if you +are a gentleman, you will bear me out. Have I ever seen you - have +you ever seen me - before this accursed hour?" + +"To speak for myself, I have never had that pleasure," answered the +young man. "This is the first time, messire, that I have met with +your engaging niece." + +The old gentleman shrugged his shoulders. + +"I am distressed to hear it," he said. "But it is never too late +to begin. I had little more acquaintance with my own late lady ere +I married her; which proves," he added with a grimace, "that these +impromptu marriages may often produce an excellent understanding in +the long-run. As the bridegroom is to have a voice in the matter, +I will give him two hours to make up for lost time before we +proceed with the ceremony." And he turned towards the door, +followed by the clergyman. + +The girl was on her feet in a moment. "My uncle, you cannot be in +earnest," she said. "I declare before God I will stab myself +rather than be forced on that young man. The heart rises at it; +God forbids such marriages; you dishonour your white hair. Oh, my +uncle, pity me! There is not a woman in all the world but would +prefer death to such a nuptial. Is it possible," she added, +faltering - "is it possible that you do not believe me - that you +still think this" - and she pointed at Denis with a tremor of anger +and contempt - "that you still think THIS to be the man?" + +"Frankly," said the old gentleman, pausing on the threshold, "I do. +But let me explain to you once for all, Blanche de Maletroit, my +way of thinking about this affair. When you took it into your head +to dishonour my family and the name that I have borne, in peace and +war, for more than three-score years, you forfeited, not only the +right to question my designs, but that of looking me in the face. +If your father had been alive, he would have spat on you and turned +you out of doors. His was the hand of iron. You may bless your +God you have only to deal with the hand of velvet, mademoiselle. +It was my duty to get you married without delay. Out of pure +goodwill, I have tried to find your own gallant for you. And I +believe I have succeeded. But before God and all the holy angels, +Blanche de Maletroit, if I have not, I care not one jack-straw. So +let me recommend you to be polite to our young friend; for upon my +word, your next groom may be less appetising." + +And with that he went out, with the chaplain at his heels; and the +arras fell behind the pair. + +The girl turned upon Denis with flashing eyes. + +"And what, sir," she demanded, "may be the meaning of all this?" + +"God knows," returned Denis gloomily. "I am a prisoner in this +house, which seems full of mad people. More I know not; and +nothing do I understand." + +"And pray how came you here?" she asked. + +He told her as briefly as he could. "For the rest," he added, +"perhaps you will follow my example, and tell me the answer to all +these riddles, and what, in God's name, is like to be the end of +it." + +She stood silent for a little, and he could see her lips tremble +and her tearless eyes burn with a feverish lustre. Then she +pressed her forehead in both hands. + +"Alas, how my head aches!" she said wearily - "to say nothing of my +poor heart! But it is due to you to know my story, unmaidenly as +it must seem. I am called Blanche de Maletroit; I have been +without father or mother for - oh! for as long as I can recollect, +and indeed I have been most unhappy all my life. Three months ago +a young captain began to stand near me every day in church. I +could see that I pleased him; I am much to blame, but I was so glad +that any one should love me; and when he passed me a letter, I took +it home with me and read it with great pleasure. Since that time +he has written many. He was so anxious to speak with me, poor +fellow! and kept asking me to leave the door open some evening that +we might have two words upon the stair. For he knew how much my +uncle trusted me." She gave something like a sob at that, and it +was a moment before she could go on. "My uncle is a hard man, but +he is very shrewd," she said at last. "He has performed many feats +in war, and was a great person at court, and much trusted by Queen +Isabeau in old days. How he came to suspect me I cannot tell; but +it is hard to keep anything from his knowledge; and this morning, +as we came from mass, he took my hand in his, forced it open, and +read my little billet, walking by my side all the while. When he +had finished, he gave it back to me with great politeness. It +contained another request to have the door left open; and this has +been the ruin of us all. My uncle kept me strictly in my room +until evening, and then ordered me to dress myself as you see me - +a hard mockery for a young girl, do you not think so? I suppose, +when he could not prevail with me to tell him the young captain's +name, he must have laid a trap for him: into which, alas! you have +fallen in the anger of God. I looked for much confusion; for how +could I tell whether he was willing to take me for his wife on +these sharp terms? He might have been trifling with me from the +first; or I might have made myself too cheap in his eyes. But +truly I had not looked for such a shameful punishment as this! I +could not think that God would let a girl be so disgraced before a +young man. And now I have told you all; and I can scarcely hope +that you will not despise me." + +Denis made her a respectful inclination. + +"Madam," he said, "you have honoured me by your confidence. It +remains for me to prove that I am not unworthy of the honour. Is +Messire de Maletroit at hand?" + +"I believe he is writing in the salle without," she answered. + +"May I lead you thither, madam?" asked Denis, offering his hand +with his most courtly bearing. + +She accepted it; and the pair passed out of the chapel, Blanche in +a very drooping and shamefast condition, but Denis strutting and +ruffling in the consciousness of a mission, and the boyish +certainty of accomplishing it with honour. + +The Sire de Maletroit rose to meet them with an ironical obeisance. + +"Sir," said Denis, with the grandest possible air, "I believe I am +to have some say in the matter of this marriage; and let me tell +you at once, I will be no party to forcing the inclination of this +young lady. Had it been freely offered to me, I should have been +proud to accept her hand, for I perceive she is as good as she is +beautiful; but as things are, I have now the honour, messire, of +refusing." + +Blanche looked at him with gratitude in her eyes; but the old +gentleman only smiled and smiled, until his smile grew positively +sickening to Denis. + +"I am afraid," he said, "Monsieur de Beaulieu, that you do not +perfectly understand the choice I have to offer you. Follow me, I +beseech you, to this window." And he led the way to one of the +large windows which stood open on the night. "You observe," he +went on, "there is an iron ring in the upper masonry, and reeved +through that, a very efficacious rope. Now, mark my words; if you +should find your disinclination to my niece's person +insurmountable, I shall have you hanged out of this window before +sunrise. I shall only proceed to such an extremity with the +greatest regret, you may believe me. For it is not at all your +death that I desire, but my niece's establishment in life. At the +same time, it must come to that if you prove obstinate. Your +family, Monsieur de Beaulieu, is very well in its way; but if you +sprang from Charlemagne, you should not refuse the hand of a +Maletroit with impunity - not if she had been as common as the +Paris road - not if she were as hideous as the gargoyle over my +door. Neither my niece nor you, nor my own private feelings, move +me at all in this matter. The honour of my house has been +compromised; I believe you to be the guilty person; at least you +are now in the secret; and you can hardly wonder if I request you +to wipe out the stain. If you will not, your blood be on your own +head! It will be no great satisfaction to me to have your +interesting relics kicking their heels in the breeze below my +windows; but half a loaf is better than no bread, and if I cannot +cure the dishonour, I shall at least stop the scandal." + +There was a pause. + +"I believe there are other ways of settling such imbroglios among +gentlemen," said Denis. "You wear a sword, and I hear you have +used it with distinction." + +The Sire de Maletroit made a signal to the chaplain, who crossed +the room with long silent strides and raised the arras over the +third of the three doors. It was only a moment before he let it +fall again; but Denis had time to see a dusky passage full of armed +men. + +"When I was a little younger, I should have been delighted to +honour you, Monsieur de Beaulieu," said Sire Alain; "but I am now +too old. Faithful retainers are the sinews of age, and I must +employ the strength I have. This is one of the hardest things to +swallow as a man grows up in years; but with a little patience, +even this becomes habitual. You and the lady seem to prefer the +salle for what remains of your two hours; and as I have no desire +to cross your preference, I shall resign it to your use with all +the pleasure in the world. No haste!" he added, holding up his +hand, as he saw a dangerous look come into Denis de Beaulieu's +face. "If your mind revolts against hanging, it will be time +enough two hours hence to throw yourself out of the window or upon +the pikes of my retainers. Two hours of life are always two hours. +A great many things may turn up in even as little a while as that. +And, besides, if I understand her appearance, my niece has still +something to say to you. You will not disfigure your last hours by +a want of politeness to a lady?" + +Denis looked at Blanche, and she made him an imploring gesture. + +It is likely that the old gentleman was hugely pleased at this +symptom of an understanding; for he smiled on both, and added +sweetly: "If you will give me your word of honour, Monsieur de +Beaulieu, to await my return at the end of the two hours before +attempting anything desperate, I shall withdraw my retainers, and +let you speak in greater privacy with mademoiselle." + +Denis again glanced at the girl, who seemed to beseech him to +agree. + +"I give you my word of honour," he said. + +Messire de Maletroit bowed, and proceeded to limp about the +apartment, clearing his throat the while with that odd musical +chirp which had already grown so irritating in the ears of Denis de +Beaulieu. He first possessed himself of some papers which lay upon +the table; then he went to the mouth of the passage and appeared to +give an order to the men behind the arras; and lastly he hobbled +out through the door by which Denis had come in, turning upon the +threshold to address a last smiling bow to the young couple, and +followed by the chaplain with a hand-lamp. + +No sooner were they alone than Blanche advanced towards Denis with +her hands extended. Her face was flushed and excited, and her eyes +shone with tears. + +"You shall not die!" she cried, "you shall marry me after all." + +"You seem to think, madam," replied Denis, "that I stand much in +fear of death." + +"Oh no, no," she said, "I see you are no poltroon. It is for my +own sake - I could not bear to have you slain for such a scruple." + +"I am afraid," returned Denis, "that you underrate the difficulty, +madam. What you may be too generous to refuse, I may be too proud +to accept. In a moment of noble feeling towards me, you forgot +what you perhaps owe to others." + +He had the decency to keep his eyes upon the floor as he said this, +and after he had finished, so as not to spy upon her confusion. +She stood silent for a moment, then walked suddenly away, and +falling on her uncle's chair, fairly burst out sobbing. Denis was +in the acme of embarrassment. He looked round, as if to seek for +inspiration, and seeing a stool, plumped down upon it for something +to do. There he sat, playing with the guard of his rapier, and +wishing himself dead a thousand times over, and buried in the +nastiest kitchen-heap in France. His eyes wandered round the +apartment, but found nothing to arrest them. There were such wide +spaces between the furniture, the light fell so baldly and +cheerlessly over all, the dark outside air looked in so coldly +through the windows, that he thought he had never seen a church so +vast, nor a tomb so melancholy. The regular sobs of Blanche de +Maletroit measured out the time like the ticking of a clock. He +read the device upon the shield over and over again, until his eyes +became obscured; he stared into shadowy corners until he imagined +they were swarming with horrible animals; and every now and again +he awoke with a start, to remember that his last two hours were +running, and death was on the march. + +Oftener and oftener, as the time went on, did his glance settle on +the girl herself. Her face was bowed forward and covered with her +hands, and she was shaken at intervals by the convulsive hiccup of +grief. Even thus she was not an unpleasant object to dwell upon, +so plump and yet so fine, with a warm brown skin, and the most +beautiful hair, Denis thought, in the whole world of womankind. +Her hands were like her uncle's; but they were more in place at the +end of her young arms, and looked infinitely soft and caressing. +He remembered how her blue eyes had shone upon him, full of anger, +pity, and innocence. And the more he dwelt on her perfections, the +uglier death looked, and the more deeply was he smitten with +penitence at her continued tears. Now he felt that no man could +have the courage to leave a world which contained so beautiful a +creature; and now he would have given forty minutes of his last +hour to have unsaid his cruel speech. + +Suddenly a hoarse and ragged peal of cockcrow rose to their ears +from the dark valley below the windows. And this shattering noise +in the silence of all around was like a light in a dark place, and +shook them both out of their reflections. + +"Alas, can I do nothing to help you?" she said, looking up. + +"Madam," replied Denis, with a fine irrelevancy, "if I have said +anything to wound you, believe me, it was for your own sake and not +for mine." + +She thanked him with a tearful look. + +"I feel your position cruelly," he went on. "The world has been +bitter hard on you. Your uncle is a disgrace to mankind. Believe +me, madam, there is no young gentleman in all France but would be +glad of my opportunity, to die in doing you a momentary service." + +"I know already that you can be very brave and generous," she +answered. "What I WANT to know is whether I can serve you - now or +afterwards," she added, with a quaver. + +"Most certainly," he answered with a smile. "Let me sit beside you +as if I were a friend, instead of a foolish intruder; try to forget +how awkwardly we are placed to one another; make my last moments go +pleasantly; and you will do me the chief service possible." + +"You are very gallant," she added, with a yet deeper sadness . . . +"very gallant . . . and it somehow pains me. But draw nearer, if +you please; and if you find anything to say to me, you will at +least make certain of a very friendly listener. Ah! Monsieur de +Beaulieu," she broke forth - "ah! Monsieur de Beaulieu, how can I +look you in the face?" And she fell to weeping again with a +renewed effusion. + +"Madam," said Denis, taking her hand in both of his, "reflect on +the little time I have before me, and the great bitterness into +which I am cast by the sight of your distress. Spare me, in my +last moments, the spectacle of what I cannot cure even with the +sacrifice of my life." + +"I am very selfish," answered Blanche. "I will be braver, Monsieur +de Beaulieu, for your sake. But think if I can do you no kindness +in the future - if you have no friends to whom I could carry your +adieux. Charge me as heavily as you can; every burden will +lighten, by so little, the invaluable gratitude I owe you. Put it +in my power to do something more for you than weep." + +"My mother is married again, and has a young family to care for. +My brother Guichard will inherit my fiefs; and if I am not in +error, that will content him amply for my death. Life is a little +vapour that passeth away, as we are told by those in holy orders. +When a man is in a fair way and sees all life open in front of him, +he seems to himself to make a very important figure in the world. +His horse whinnies to him; the trumpets blow and the girls look out +of window as he rides into town before his company; he receives +many assurances of trust and regard - sometimes by express in a +letter - sometimes face to face, with persons of great consequence +falling on his neck. It is not wonderful if his head is turned for +a time. But once he is dead, were he as brave as Hercules or as +wise as Solomon, he is soon forgotten. It is not ten years since +my father fell, with many other knights around him, in a very +fierce encounter, and I do not think that any one of them, nor so +much as the name of the fight, is now remembered. No, no, madam, +the nearer you come to it, you see that death is a dark and dusty +corner, where a man gets into his tomb and has the door shut after +him till the judgment day. I have few friends just now, and once I +am dead I shall have none." + +"Ah, Monsieur de Beaulieu!" she exclaimed, "you forget Blanche de +Maletroit." + +"You have a sweet nature, madam, and you are pleased to estimate a +little service far beyond its worth." + +"It is not that," she answered. "You mistake me if you think I am +so easily touched by my own concerns. I say so, because you are +the noblest man I have ever met; because I recognise in you a +spirit that would have made even a common person famous in the +land." + +"And yet here I die in a mouse-trap - with no more noise about it +than my own squeaking," answered he. + +A look of pain crossed her face, and she was silent for a little +while. Then a fight came into her eyes, and with a smile she spoke +again. + +"I cannot have my champion think meanly of himself. Any one who +gives his life for another will be met in Paradise by all the +heralds and angels of the Lord God. And you have no such cause to +hang your head. For . . . Pray, do you think me beautiful?" she +asked, with a deep flush. + +"Indeed, madam, I do," he said. + +"I am glad of that," she answered heartily. "Do you think there +are many men in France who have been asked in marriage by a +beautiful maiden - with her own lips - and who have refused her to +her face? I know you men would half despise such a triumph; but +believe me, we women know more of what is precious in love. There +is nothing that should set a person higher in his own esteem; and +we women would prize nothing more dearly." + +"You are very good," he said; "but you cannot make me forget that I +was asked in pity and not for love." + +"I am not so sure of that," she replied, holding down her head. +"Hear me to an end, Monsieur de Beaulieu. I know how you must +despise me; I feel you are right to do so; I am too poor a creature +to occupy one thought of your mind, although, alas! you must die +for me this morning. But when I asked you to marry me, indeed, and +indeed, it was because I respected and admired you, and loved you +with my whole soul, from the very moment that you took my part +against my uncle. If you had seen yourself, and how noble you +looked, you would pity rather than despise me. And now," she went +on, hurriedly checking him with her hand, "although I have laid +aside all reserve and told you so much, remember that I know your +sentiments towards me already. I would not, believe me, being +nobly born, weary you with importunities into consent. I too have +a pride of my own: and I declare before the holy mother of God, if +you should now go back from your word already given, I would no +more marry you than I would marry my uncle's groom." + +Denis smiled a little bitterly. + +"It is a small love," he said, "that shies at a little pride." + +She made no answer, although she probably had her own thoughts. + +"Come hither to the window," he said, with a sigh. "Here is the +dawn." + +And indeed the dawn was already beginning. The hollow of the sky +was full of essential daylight, colourless and clean; and the +valley underneath was flooded with a grey reflection. A few thin +vapours clung in the coves of the forest or lay along the winding +course of the river. The scene disengaged a surprising effect of +stillness, which was hardly interrupted when the cocks began once +more to crow among the steadings. Perhaps the same fellow who had +made so horrid a clangour in the darkness not half-an-hour before, +now sent up the merriest cheer to greet the coming day. A little +wind went bustling and eddying among the tree-tops underneath the +windows. And still the daylight kept flooding insensibly out of +the east, which was soon to grow incandescent and cast up that red- +hot cannon-ball, the rising sun. + +Denis looked out over all this with a bit of a shiver. He had +taken her hand, and retained it in his almost unconsciously. + +"Has the day begun already?" she said; and then, illogically +enough: "the night has been so long! Alas, what shall we say to +my uncle when he returns?" + +"What you will," said Denis, and he pressed her fingers in his. + +She was silent. + +"Blanche," he said, with a swift, uncertain, passionate utterance, +"you have seen whether I fear death. You must know well enough +that I would as gladly leap out of that window into the empty air +as lay a finger on you without your free and full consent. But if +you care for me at all do not let me lose my life in a +misapprehension; for I love you better than the whole world; and +though I will die for you blithely, it would be like all the joys +of Paradise to live on and spend my life in your service." + +As he stopped speaking, a bell began to ring loudly in the interior +of the house; and a clatter of armour in the corridor showed that +the retainers were returning to their post, and the two hours were +at an end. + +"After all that you have heard?" she whispered, leaning towards him +with her lips and eyes. + +"I have heard nothing," he replied. + +"The captain's name was Florimond de Champdivers," she said in his +ear. + +"I did not hear it," he answered, taking her supple body in his +arms and covering her wet face with kisses. + +A melodious chirping was audible behind, followed by a beautiful +chuckle, and the voice of Messire de Maletroit wished his new +nephew a good morning. + + + + +PROVIDENCE AND THE GUITAR + + + + +CHAPTER I + + + +Monsieur Leon Berthelini had a great care of his appearance, and +sedulously suited his deportment to the costume of the hour. He +affected something Spanish in his air, and something of the bandit, +with a flavour of Rembrandt at home. In person he was decidedly +small and inclined to be stout; his face was the picture of good +humour; his dark eyes, which were very expressive, told of a kind +heart, a brisk, merry nature, and the most indefatigable spirits. +If he had worn the clothes of the period you would have set him +down for a hitherto undiscovered hybrid between the barber, the +innkeeper, and the affable dispensing chemist. But in the +outrageous bravery of velvet jacket and flapped hat, with trousers +that were more accurately described as fleshings, a white +handkerchief cavalierly knotted at his neck, a shock of Olympian +curls upon his brow, and his feet shod through all weathers in the +slenderest of Moliere shoes - you had but to look at him and you +knew you were in the presence of a Great Creature. When he wore an +overcoat he scorned to pass the sleeves; a single button held it +round his shoulders; it was tossed backwards after the manner of a +cloak, and carried with the gait and presence of an Almaviva. I am +of opinion that M. Berthelini was nearing forty. But he had a +boy's heart, gloried in his finery, and walked through life like a +child in a perpetual dramatic performance. If he were not Almaviva +after all, it was not for lack of making believe. And he enjoyed +the artist's compensation. If he were not really Almaviva, he was +sometimes just as happy as though he were. + +I have seen him, at moments when he has fancied himself alone with +his Maker, adopt so gay and chivalrous a bearing, and represent his +own part with so much warmth and conscience, that the illusion +became catching, and I believed implicitly in the Great Creature's +pose. + +But, alas! life cannot be entirely conducted on these principles; +man cannot live by Almavivery alone; and the Great Creature, having +failed upon several theatres, was obliged to step down every +evening from his heights, and sing from half-a-dozen to a dozen +comic songs, twang a guitar, keep a country audience in good +humour, and preside finally over the mysteries of a tombola. + +Madame Berthelini, who was art and part with him in these +undignified labours, had perhaps a higher position in the scale of +beings, and enjoyed a natural dignity of her own. But her heart +was not any more rightly placed, for that would have been +impossible; and she had acquired a little air of melancholy, +attractive enough in its way, but not good to see like the +wholesome, sky-scraping, boyish spirits of her lord. + +He, indeed, swam like a kite on a fair wind, high above earthly +troubles. Detonations of temper were not unfrequent in the zones +he travelled; but sulky fogs and tearful depressions were there +alike unknown. A well-delivered blow upon a table, or a noble +attitude, imitated from Melingne or Frederic, relieved his +irritation like a vengeance. Though the heaven had fallen, if he +had played his part with propriety, Berthelini had been content! +And the man's atmosphere, if not his example, reacted on his wife; +for the couple doated on each other, and although you would have +thought they walked in different worlds, yet continued to walk hand +in hand. + +It chanced one day that Monsieur and Madame Berthelini descended +with two boxes and a guitar in a fat case at the station of the +little town of Castel-le-Gachis, and the omnibus carried them with +their effects to the Hotel of the Black Head. This was a dismal, +conventual building in a narrow street, capable of standing siege +when once the gates were shut, and smelling strangely in the +interior of straw and chocolate and old feminine apparel. +Berthelini paused upon the threshold with a painful premonition. +In some former state, it seemed to him, he had visited a hostelry +that smelt not otherwise, and been ill received. + +The landlord, a tragic person in a large felt hat, rose from a +business table under the key-rack, and came forward, removing his +hat with both hands as he did so. + +"Sir, I salute you. May I inquire what is your charge for +artists?" inquired Berthelini, with a courtesy at once splendid and +insinuating. + +"For artists?" said the landlord. His countenance fell and the +smile of welcome disappeared. "Oh, artists!" he added brutally; +"four francs a day." And he turned his back upon these +inconsiderable customers. + +A commercial traveller is received, he also, upon a reduction - yet +is he welcome, yet can he command the fatted calf; but an artist, +had he the manners of an Almaviva, were he dressed like Solomon in +all his glory, is received like a dog and served like a timid lady +travelling alone. + +Accustomed as he was to the rubs of his profession, Berthelini was +unpleasantly affected by the landlord's manner. + +"Elvira," said he to his wife, "mark my words: Castel-le-Gachis is +a tragic folly." + +"Wait till we see what we take," replied Elvira. + +"We shall take nothing," returned Berthelini; "we shall feed upon +insults. I have an eye, Elvira: I have a spirit of divination; +and this place is accursed. The landlord has been discourteous, +the Commissary will be brutal, the audience will be sordid and +uproarious, and you will take a cold upon your throat. We have +been besotted enough to come; the die is cast - it will be a second +Sedan." + +Sedan was a town hateful to the Berthelinis, not only from +patriotism (for they were French, and answered after the flesh to +the somewhat homely name of Duval), but because it had been the +scene of their most sad reverses. In that place they had lain +three weeks in pawn for their hotel bill, and had it not been for a +surprising stroke of fortune they might have been lying there in +pawn until this day. To mention the name of Sedan was for the +Berthelinis to dip the brush in earthquake and eclipse. Count +Almaviva slouched his hat with a gesture expressive of despair, and +even Elvira felt as if ill-fortune had been personally invoked. + +"Let us ask for breakfast," said she, with a woman's tact. + +The Commissary of Police of Castel-le-Gachis was a large red +Commissary, pimpled, and subject to a strong cutaneous +transpiration. I have repeated the name of his office because he +was so very much more a Commissary than a man. The spirit of his +dignity had entered into him. He carried his corporation as if it +were something official. Whenever he insulted a common citizen it +seemed to him as if he were adroitly flattering the Government by a +side wind; in default of dignity he was brutal from an overweening +sense of duty. His office was a den, whence passers-by could hear +rude accents laying down, not the law, but the good pleasure of the +Commissary. + +Six several times in the course of the day did M. Berthelini hurry +thither in quest of the requisite permission for his evening's +entertainment; six several times he found the official was abroad. +Leon Berthelini began to grow quite a familiar figure in the +streets of Castel-le-Gachis; he became a local celebrity, and was +pointed out as "the man who was looking for the Commissary." Idle +children attached themselves to his footsteps, and trotted after +him back and forward between the hotel and the office. Leon might +try as he liked; he might roll cigarettes, he might straddle, he +might cock his hat at a dozen different jaunty inclinations - the +part of Almaviva was, under the circumstances, difficult to play. + +As he passed the market-place upon the seventh excursion the +Commissary was pointed out to him, where he stood, with his +waistcoat unbuttoned and his hands behind his back, to superintend +the sale and measurement of butter. Berthelini threaded his way +through the market stalls and baskets, and accosted the dignitary +with a bow which was a triumph of the histrionic art. + +"I have the honour," he asked, "of meeting M. le Commissaire?" + +The Commissary was affected by the nobility of his address. He +excelled Leon in the depth if not in the airy grace of his +salutation. + +"The honour," said he, "is mine!" + +"I am," continued the strolling-player, "I am, sir, an artist, and +I have permitted myself to interrupt you on an affair of business. +To-night I give a trifling musical entertainment at the Cafe of the +Triumphs of the Plough - permit me to offer you this little +programme - and I have come to ask you for the necessary +authorisation." + +At the word "artist," the Commissary had replaced his hat with the +air of a person who, having condescended too far, should suddenly +remember the duties of his rank. + +"Go, go," said he, "I am busy - I am measuring butter." + +"Heathen Jew!" thought Leon. "Permit me, sir," he resumed aloud. +"I have gone six times already - " + +"Put up your bills if you choose," interrupted the Commissary. "In +an hour or so I will examine your papers at the office. But now +go; I am busy." + +"Measuring butter!" thought Berthelini. "Oh, France, and it is for +this that we made '93!" + +The preparations were soon made; the bills posted, programmes laid +on the dinner-table of every hotel in the town, and a stage erected +at one end of the Cafe of the Triumphs of the Plough; but when Leon +returned to the office, the Commissary was once more abroad. + +"He is like Madame Benoiton," thought Leon, "Fichu Commissaire!" + +And just then he met the man face to face. + +"Here, sir," said he, "are my papers. Will you be pleased to +verify?" + +But the Commissary was now intent upon dinner. + +"No use," he replied, "no use; I am busy; I am quite satisfied. +Give your entertainment." + +And he hurried on. + +"Fichu Commissaire!" thought Leon. + + + +CHAPTER II + + + +The audience was pretty large; and the proprietor of the cafe made +a good thing of it in beer. But the Berthelinis exerted themselves +in vain. + +Leon was radiant in velveteen; he had a rakish way of smoking a +cigarette between his songs that was worth money in itself; he +underlined his comic points, so that the dullest numskull in +Castel-le-Gachis had a notion when to laugh; and he handled his +guitar in a manner worthy of himself. Indeed his play with that +instrument was as good as a whole romantic drama; it was so +dashing, so florid, and so cavalier. + +Elvira, on the other hand, sang her patriotic and romantic songs +with more than usual expression; her voice had charm and plangency; +and as Leon looked at her, in her low-bodied maroon dress, with her +arms bare to the shoulder, and a red flower set provocatively in +her corset, he repeated to himself for the many hundredth time that +she was one of the loveliest creatures in the world of women. + +Alas! when she went round with the tambourine, the golden youth of +Castel-le-Gachis turned from her coldly. Here and there a single +halfpenny was forthcoming; the net result of a collection never +exceeded half a franc; and the Maire himself, after seven different +applications, had contributed exactly twopence. A certain chill +began to settle upon the artists themselves; it seemed as if they +were singing to slugs; Apollo himself might have lost heart with +such an audience. The Berthelinis struggled against the +impression; they put their back into their work, they sang loud and +louder, the guitar twanged like a living thing; and at last Leon +arose in his might, and burst with inimitable conviction into his +great song, "Y a des honnetes gens partout!" Never had he given +more proof of his artistic mastery; it was his intimate, +indefeasible conviction that Castel-le-Gachis formed an exception +to the law he was now lyrically proclaiming, and was peopled +exclusively by thieves and bullies; and yet, as I say, he flung it +down like a challenge, he trolled it forth like an article of +faith; and his face so beamed the while that you would have thought +he must make converts of the benches. + +He was at the top of his register, with his head thrown back and +his mouth open, when the door was thrown violently open, and a pair +of new comers marched noisily into the cafe. It was the +Commissary, followed by the Garde Champetre. + +The undaunted Berthelini still continued to proclaim, "Y a des +honnetes gens partout!" But now the sentiment produced an audible +titter among the audience. Berthelini wondered why; he did not +know the antecedents of the Garde Champetre; he had never heard of +a little story about postage stamps. But the public knew all about +the postage stamps and enjoyed the coincidence hugely. + +The Commissary planted himself upon a vacant chair with somewhat +the air of Cromwell visiting the Rump, and spoke in occasional +whispers to the Garde Champetre, who remained respectfully standing +at his back. The eyes of both were directed upon Berthelini, who +persisted in his statement. + +"Y a des honnetes gens partout," he was just chanting for the +twentieth time; when up got the Commissary upon his feet and waved +brutally to the singer with his cane. + +"Is it me you want?" inquired Leon, stopping in his song. + +"It is you," replied the potentate. + +"Fichu Commissaire!" thought Leon, and he descended from the stage +and made his way to the functionary. + +"How does it happen, sir," said the Commissary, swelling in person, +"that I find you mountebanking in a public cafe without my +permission?" + +"Without?" cried the indignant Leon. "Permit me to remind you - " + +"Come, come, sir!" said the Commissary, "I desire no explanations." + +"I care nothing about what you desire," returned the singer. "I +choose to give them, and I will not be gagged. I am an artist, +sir, a distinction that you cannot comprehend. I received your +permission and stand here upon the strength of it; interfere with +me who dare." + +"You have not got my signature, I tell you," cried the Commissary. +"Show me my signature! Where is my signature?" + +That was just the question; where was his signature? Leon +recognised that he was in a hole; but his spirit rose with the +occasion, and he blustered nobly, tossing back his curls. The +Commissary played up to him in the character of tyrant; and as the +one leaned farther forward, the other leaned farther back - majesty +confronting fury. The audience had transferred their attention to +this new performance, and listened with that silent gravity common +to all Frenchmen in the neighbourhood of the Police. Elvira had +sat down, she was used to these distractions, and it was rather +melancholy than fear that now oppressed her. + +"Another word," cried the Commissary, "and I arrest you." + +"Arrest me?" shouted Leon. "I defy you!" + +"I am the Commissary of Police,' said the official. + +Leon commanded his feelings, and replied, with great delicacy of +innuendo - + +"So it would appear." + +The point was too refined for Castel-le-Gachis; it did not raise a +smile; and as for the Commissary, he simply bade the singer follow +him to his office, and directed his proud footsteps towards the +door. There was nothing for it but to obey. Leon did so with a +proper pantomime of indifference, but it was a leek to eat, and +there was no denying it. + +The Maire had slipped out and was already waiting at the +Commissary's door. Now the Maire, in France, is the refuge of the +oppressed. He stands between his people and the boisterous rigours +of the Police. He can sometimes understand what is said to him; he +is not always puffed up beyond measure by his dignity. 'Tis a +thing worth the knowledge of travellers. When all seems over, and +a man has made up his mind to injustice, he has still, like the +heroes of romance, a little bugle at his belt whereon to blow; and +the Maire, a comfortable DEUS EX MACHINA, may still descend to +deliver him from the minions of the law. The Maire of Castel-le- +Gachis, although inaccessible to the charms of music as retailed by +the Berthelinis, had no hesitation whatever as to the rights of the +matter. He instantly fell foul of the Commissary in very high +terms, and the Commissary, pricked by this humiliation, accepted +battle on the point of fact. The argument lasted some little while +with varying success, until at length victory inclined so plainly +to the Commissary's side that the Maire was fain to reassert +himself by an exercise of authority. He had been out-argued, but +he was still the Maire. And so, turning from his interlocutor, he +briefly but kindly recommended Leon to get back instanter to his +concert. + +"It is already growing late," he added. + +Leon did not wait to be told twice. He returned to the Cafe of the +Triumphs of the Plough with all expedition. Alas! the audience had +melted away during his absence; Elvira was sitting in a very +disconsolate attitude on the guitar-box; she had watched the +company dispersing by twos and threes, and the prolonged spectacle +had somewhat overwhelmed her spirits. Each man, she reflected, +retired with a certain proportion of her earnings in his pocket, +and she saw to-night's board and to-morrow's railway expenses, and +finally even to-morrow's dinner, walk one after another out of the +cafe door and disappear into the night. + +"What was it?" she asked languidly. But Leon did not answer. He +was looking round him on the scene of defeat. Scarce a score of +listeners remained, and these of the least promising sort. The +minute hand of the clock was already climbing upward towards +eleven. + +"It's a lost battle," said he, and then taking up the money-box he +turned it out. "Three francs seventy-five!" he cried, "as against +four of board and six of railway fares; and no time for the +tombola! Elvira, this is Waterloo." And he sat down and passed +both hands desperately among his curls. "O Fichu Commissaire!" he +cried, "Fichu Commissaire!" + +"Let us get the things together and be off," returned Elvira. "We +might try another song, but there is not six halfpence in the +room." + +"Six halfpence?" cried Leon, "six hundred thousand devils! There +is not a human creature in the town - nothing but pigs and dogs and +commissaires! Pray heaven, we get safe to bed." + +"Don't imagine things!" exclaimed Elvira, with a shudder. + +And with that they set to work on their preparations. The tobacco- +jar, the cigarette-holder, the three papers of shirt-studs, which +were to have been the prices of the tombola had the tombola come +off, were made into a bundle with the music; the guitar was stowed +into the fat guitar-case; and Elvira having thrown a thin shawl +about her neck and shoulders, the pair issued from the cafe and set +off for the Black Head. + +As they crossed the market-place the church bell rang out eleven. +It was a dark, mild night, and there was no one in the streets. + +"It is all very fine," said Leon; "but I have a presentiment. The +night is not yet done." + + + +CHAPTER III + + + +The "Black Head" presented not a single chink of light upon the +street, and the carriage gate was closed. + +"This is unprecedented," observed Leon. "An inn closed by five +minutes after eleven! And there were several commercial travellers +in the cafe up to a late hour. Elvira, my heart misgives me. Let +us ring the bell." + +The bell had a potent note; and being swung under the arch it +filled the house from top to bottom with surly, clanging +reverberations. The sound accentuated the conventual appearance of +the building; a wintry sentiment, a thought of prayer and +mortification, took hold upon Elvira's mind; and, as for Leon, he +seemed to be reading the stage directions for a lugubrious fifth +act. + +"This is your fault," said Elvira: "this is what comes of fancying +things!" + +Again Leon pulled the bell-rope; again the solemn tocsin awoke the +echoes of the inn; and ere they had died away, a light glimmered in +the carriage entrance, and a powerful voice was heard upraised and +tremulous with wrath. + +"What's all this?" cried the tragic host through the spars of the +gate. "Hard upon twelve, and you come clamouring like Prussians at +the door of a respectable hotel? Oh!" he cried, "I know you now! +Common singers! People in trouble with the police! And you +present yourselves at midnight like lords and ladies? Be off with +you!" + +"You will permit me to remind you," replied Leon, in thrilling +tones, "that I am a guest in your house, that I am properly +inscribed, and that I have deposited baggage to the value of four +hundred francs." + +"You cannot get in at this hour," returned the man. "This is no +thieves' tavern, for mohocks and night rakes and organ-grinders." + +"Brute!" cried Elvira, for the organ-grinders touched her home. + +"Then I demand my baggage," said Leon, with unabated dignity. + +"I know nothing of your baggage," replied the landlord. + +"You detain my baggage? You dare to detain my baggage?" cried the +singer. + +"Who are you?" returned the landlord. "It is dark - I cannot +recognise you." + +"Very well, then - you detain my baggage," concluded Leon. "You +shall smart for this. I will weary out your life with +persecutions; I will drag you from court to court; if there is +justice to be had in France, it shall be rendered between you and +me. And I will make you a by-word - I will put you in a song - a +scurrilous song - an indecent song - a popular song - which the +boys shall sing to you in the street, and come and howl through +these spars at mid-night!" + +He had gone on raising his voice at every phrase, for all the while +the landlord was very placidly retiring; and now, when the last +glimmer of light had vanished from the arch, and the last footstep +died away in the interior, Leon turned to his wife with a heroic +countenance. + +"Elvira," said he, "I have now a duty in life. I shall destroy +that man as Eugene Sue destroyed the concierge. Let us come at +once to the Gendarmerie and begin our vengeance." + +He picked up the guitar-case, which had been propped against the +wall, and they set forth through the silent and ill-lighted town +with burning hearts. + +The Gendarmerie was concealed beside the telegraph office at the +bottom of a vast court, which was partly laid out in gardens; and +here all the shepherds of the public lay locked in grateful sleep. +It took a deal of knocking to waken one; and he, when he came at +last to the door, could find no other remark but that "it was none +of his business." Leon reasoned with him, threatened him, besought +him; "here," he said, "was Madame Berthelini in evening dress - a +delicate woman - in an interesting condition" - the last was thrown +in, I fancy, for effect; and to all this the man-at-arms made the +same answer: + +"It is none of my business," said he. + +"Very well," said Leon, "then we shall go to the Commissary." +Thither they went; the office was closed and dark; but the house +was close by, and Leon was soon swinging the bell like a madman. +The Commissary's wife appeared at a window. She was a thread-paper +creature, and informed them that the Commissary had not yet come +home. + +"Is he at the Maire's?" demanded Leon. + +She thought that was not unlikely. + +"Where is the Maire's house?" he asked. + +And she gave him some rather vague information on that point. + +"Stay you here, Elvira," said Leon, "lest I should miss him by the +way. If, when I return, I find you here no longer, I shall follow +at once to the Black Head." + +And he set out to find the Maire's. It took him some ten minutes +wandering among blind lanes, and when he arrived it was already +half-an-hour past midnight. A long white garden wall overhung by +some thick chestnuts, a door with a letter-box, and an iron bell- +pull, that was all that could be seen of the Maire's domicile. +Leon took the bell-pull in both hands, and danced furiously upon +the side-walk. The bell itself was just upon the other side of the +wall, it responded to his activity, and scattered an alarming +clangour far and wide into the night. + +A window was thrown open in a house across the street, and a voice +inquired the cause of this untimely uproar. + +"I wish the Maire," said Leon. + +"He has been in bed this hour," returned the voice. + +"He must get up again," retorted Leon, and he was for tackling the +bell-pull once more. + +"You will never make him hear," responded the voice. "The garden +is of great extent, the house is at the farther end, and both the +Maire and his housekeeper are deaf." + +"Aha!" said Leon, pausing. "The Maire is deaf, is he? That +explains." And he thought of the evening's concert with a +momentary feeling of relief. "Ah!" he continued, "and so the Maire +is deaf, and the garden vast, and the house at the far end?" + +"And you might ring all night," added the voice, "and be none the +better for it. You would only keep me awake." + +"Thank you, neighbour," replied the singer. "You shall sleep." + +And he made off again at his best pace for the Commissary's. +Elvira was still walking to and fro before the door. + +"He has not come?" asked Leon. + +"Not he," she replied. + +"Good," returned Leon. "I am sure our man's inside. Let me see +the guitar-case. I shall lay this siege in form, Elvira; I am +angry; I am indignant; I am truculently inclined; but I thank my +Maker I have still a sense of fun. The unjust judge shall be +importuned in a serenade, Elvira. Set him up - and set him up." + +He had the case opened by this time, struck a few chords, and fell +into an attitude which was irresistibly Spanish. + +"Now," he continued, "feel your voice. Are you ready? Follow me!" + +The guitar twanged, and the two voices upraised, in harmony and +with a startling loudness, the chorus of a song of old Beranger's:- + + +"Commissaire! Commissaire! +Colin bat sa menagere." + + +The stones of Castel-le-Gachis thrilled at this audacious +innovation. Hitherto had the night been sacred to repose and +nightcaps; and now what was this? Window after window was opened; +matches scratched, and candles began to flicker; swollen sleepy +faces peered forth into the starlight. There were the two figures +before the Commissary's house, each bolt upright, with head thrown +back and eyes interrogating the starry heavens; the guitar wailed, +shouted, and reverberated like half an orchestra; and the voices, +with a crisp and spirited delivery, hurled the appropriate burden +at the Commissary's window. All the echoes repeated the +functionary's name. It was more like an entr'acte in a farce of +Moliere's than a passage of real life in Castel-le-Gachis. + +The Commissary, if he was not the first, was not the last of the +neighbours to yield to the influence of music, and furiously throw +open the window of his bedroom. He was beside himself with rage. +He leaned far over the window-sill, raying and gesticulating; the +tassel of his white night-cap danced like a thing of life: he +opened his mouth to dimensions hitherto unprecedented, and yet his +voice, instead of escaping from it in a roar, came forth shrill and +choked and tottering. A little more serenading, and it was clear +he would be better acquainted with the apoplexy. + +I scorn to reproduce his language; he touched upon too many serious +topics by the way for a quiet story-teller. Although he was known +for a man who was prompt with his tongue, and had a power of strong +expression at command, he excelled himself so remarkably this night +that one maiden lady, who had got out of bed like the rest to hear +the serenade, was obliged to shut her window at the second clause. +Even what she had heard disquieted her conscience; and next day she +said she scarcely reckoned as a maiden lady any longer. + +Leon tried to explain his predicament, but he received nothing but +threats of arrest by way of answer. + +"If I come down to you!" cried the Commissary. + +"Aye," said Leon, "do!" + +"I will not!" cried the Commissary. + +"You dare not!" answered Leon. + +At that the Commissary closed his window. + +"All is over," said the singer. "The serenade was perhaps ill- +judged. These boors have no sense of humour." + +"Let us get away from here," said Elvira, with a shiver. "All +these people looking - it is so rude and so brutal." And then +giving way once more to passion - "Brutes!" she cried aloud to the +candle-lit spectators - "brutes! brutes! brutes!" + +"Sauve qui peut," said Leon. "You have done it now!" + +And taking the guitar in one hand and the case in the other, he led +the way with something too precipitate to be merely called +precipitation from the scene of this absurd adventure. + + + +CHAPTER IV + + + +To the west of Castel-le-Gachis four rows of venerable lime-trees +formed, in this starry night, a twilit avenue with two side aisles +of pitch darkness. Here and there stone benches were disposed +between the trunks. There was not a breath of wind; a heavy +atmosphere of perfume hung about the alleys; and every leaf stood +stock-still upon its twig. Hither, after vainly knocking at an inn +or two, the Berthelinis came at length to pass the night. After an +amiable contention, Leon insisted on giving his coat to Elvira, and +they sat down together on the first bench in silence. Leon made a +cigarette, which he smoked to an end, looking up into the trees, +and, beyond them, at the constellations, of which he tried vainly +to recall the names. The silence was broken by the church bell; it +rang the four quarters on a light and tinkling measure; then +followed a single deep stroke that died slowly away with a thrill; +and stillness resumed its empire. + +"One," said Leon. "Four hours till daylight. It is warm; it is +starry; I have matches and tobacco. Do not let us exaggerate, +Elvira - the experience is positively charming. I feel a glow +within me; I am born again. This is the poetry of life. Think of +Cooper's novels, my dear." + +"Leon," she said fiercely, "how can you talk such wicked, infamous +nonsense? To pass all night out-of-doors - it is like a nightmare! +We shall die." + +"You suffer yourself to be led away," he replied soothingly. "It +is not unpleasant here; only you brood. Come, now, let us repeat a +scene. Shall we try Alceste and Celimene? No? Or a passage from +the 'Two Orphans'? Come, now, it will occupy your mind; I will +play up to you as I never have played before; I feel art moving in +my bones." + +"Hold your tongue," she cried, "or you will drive me mad! Will +nothing solemnise you - not even this hideous situation?" + +"Oh, hideous!" objected Leon. "Hideous is not the word. Why, +where would you be? 'Dites, la jeune belle, ou voulez-vous +aller?'" he carolled. "Well, now," he went on, opening the guitar- +case, "there's another idea for you - sing. Sing 'Dites, la jeune +belle!' It will compose your spirits, Elvira, I am sure." + +And without waiting an answer he began to strum the symphony. The +first chords awoke a young man who was lying asleep upon a +neighbouring bench. + +"Hullo!" cried the young man, "who are you?" + +"Under which king, Bezonian?" declaimed the artist. "Speak or +die!" + +Or if it was not exactly that, it was something to much the same +purpose from a French tragedy. + +The young man drew near in the twilight. He was a tall, powerful, +gentlemanly fellow, with a somewhat puffy face, dressed in a grey +tweed suit, with a deer-stalker hat of the same material; and as he +now came forward he carried a knapsack slung upon one arm. + +"Are you camping out here too?" he asked, with a strong English +accent. "I'm not sorry for company." + +Leon explained their misadventure; and the other told them that he +was a Cambridge undergraduate on a walking tour, that he had run +short of money, could no longer pay for his night's lodging, had +already been camping out for two nights, and feared he should +require to continue the same manoeuvre for at least two nights +more. + +"Luckily, it's jolly weather," he concluded. + +"You hear that, Elvira," said Leon. "Madame Berthelini," he went +on, "is ridiculously affected by this trifling occurrence. For my +part, I find it romantic and far from uncomfortable; or at least," +he added, shifting on the stone bench, "not quite so uncomfortable +as might have been expected. But pray be seated." + +"Yes," returned the undergraduate, sitting down, "it's rather nice +than otherwise when once you're used to it; only it's devilish +difficult to get washed. I like the fresh air and these stars and +things." + +"Aha!" said Leon, "Monsieur is an artist." + +"An artist?" returned the other, with a blank stare. "Not if I +know it!" + +"Pardon me," said the actor. "What you said this moment about the +orbs of heaven - " + +"Oh, nonsense!" cried the Englishman. "A fellow may admire the +stars and be anything he likes." + +"You have an artist's nature, however, Mr.- I beg your pardon; may +I, without indiscretion, inquire your name?" asked Leon. + +"My name is Stubbs," replied the Englishman. + +"I thank you," returned Leon. "Mine is Berthelini - Leon +Berthelini, ex-artist of the theatres of Montrouge, Belleville, and +Montmartre. Humble as you see me, I have created with applause +more than one important ROLE. The Press were unanimous in praise +of my Howling Devil of the Mountains, in the piece of the same +name. Madame, whom I now present to you, is herself an artist, and +I must not omit to state, a better artist than her husband. She +also is a creator; she created nearly twenty successful songs at +one of the principal Parisian music-halls. But, to continue, I was +saying you had an artist's nature, Monsieur Stubbs, and you must +permit me to be a judge in such a question. I trust you will not +falsify your instincts; let me beseech you to follow the career of +an artist." + +"Thank you," returned Stubbs, with a chuckle. "I'm going to be a +banker." + +"No," said Leon, "do not say so. Not that. A man with such a +nature as yours should not derogate so far. What are a few +privations here and there, so long as you are working for a high +and noble goal?" + +"This fellow's mad," thought Stubbs; "but the woman's rather +pretty, and he's not bad fun himself, if you come to that." What +he said was different. "I thought you said you were an actor?" + +"I certainly did so," replied Leon. "I am one, or, alas! I was." + +"And so you want me to be an actor, do you?" continued the +undergraduate. "Why, man, I could never so much as learn the +stuff; my memory's like a sieve; and as for acting, I've no more +idea than a cat." + +"The stage is not the only course," said Leon. "Be a sculptor, be +a dancer, be a poet or a novelist; follow your heart, in short, and +do some thorough work before you die." + +"And do you call all these things ART?" inquired Stubbs. + +"Why, certainly!" returned Leon. "Are they not all branches?" + +"Oh! I didn't know," replied the Englishman. "I thought an artist +meant a fellow who painted." + +The singer stared at him in some surprise. + +"It is the difference of language," he said at last. "This Tower +of Babel, when shall we have paid for it? If I could speak English +you would follow me more readily." + +"Between you and me, I don't believe I should," replied the other. +"You seem to have thought a devil of a lot about this business. +For my part, I admire the stars, and like to have them shining - +it's so cheery - but hang me if I had an idea it had anything to do +with art! It's not in my line, you see. I'm not intellectual; I +have no end of trouble to scrape through my exams., I can tell you! +But I'm not a bad sort at bottom," he added, seeing his +interlocutor looked distressed even in the dim starshine, "and I +rather like the play, and music, and guitars, and things." + +Leon had a perception that the understanding was incomplete. He +changed the subject. + +"And so you travel on foot?" he continued. "How romantic! How +courageous! And how are you pleased with my land? How does the +scenery affect you among these wild hills of ours?" + +"Well, the fact is," began Stubbs - he was about to say that he +didn't care for scenery, which was not at all true, being, on the +contrary, only an athletic undergraduate pretension; but he had +begun to suspect that Berthelini liked a different sort of meat, +and substituted something else - "The fact is, I think it jolly. +They told me it was no good up here; even the guide-book said so; +but I don't know what they meant. I think it is deuced pretty - +upon my word, I do." + +At this moment, in the most unexpected manner, Elvira burst into +tears. + +"My voice!" she cried. "Leon, if I stay here longer I shall lose +my voice!" + +"You shall not stay another moment," cried the actor. "If I have +to beat in a door, if I have to burn the town, I shall find you +shelter." + +With that he replaced the guitar, and comforting her with some +caresses, drew her arm through his. + +"Monsieur Stubbs," said he, taking of his hat, "the reception I +offer you is rather problematical; but let me beseech you to give +us the pleasure of your society. You are a little embarrassed for +the moment; you must, indeed, permit me to advance what may be +necessary. I ask it as a favour; we must not part so soon after +having met so strangely." + +"Oh, come, you know," said Stubbs, "I can't let a fellow like you - +" And there he paused, feeling somehow or other on a wrong tack. + +"I do not wish to employ menaces," continued Leon, with a smile; +"but if you refuse, indeed I shall not take it kindly." + +"I don't quite see my way out of it," thought the undergraduate; +and then, after a pause, he said, aloud and ungraciously enough, +"All right. I - I'm very much obliged, of course." And he +proceeded to follow them, thinking in his heart, "But it's bad +form, all the same, to force an obligation on a fellow." + + + +CHAPTER V + + + +Leon strode ahead as if he knew exactly where he was going; the +sobs of Madame were still faintly audible, and no one uttered a +word. A dog barked furiously in a courtyard as they went by; then +the church clock struck two, and many domestic clocks followed or +preceded it in piping tones. And just then Berthelini spied a +light. It burned in a small house on the outskirts of the town, +and thither the party now directed their steps. + +"It is always a chance," said Leon. + +The house in question stood back from the street behind an open +space, part garden, part turnip-field; and several outhouses stood +forward from either wing at right angles to the front. One of +these had recently undergone some change. An enormous window, +looking towards the north, had been effected in the wall and roof, +and Leon began to hope it was a studio. + +"If it's only a painter," he said with a chuckle, "ten to one we +get as good a welcome as we want." + +"I thought painters were principally poor," said Stubbs. + +"Ah!" cried Leon, "you do not know the world as I do. The poorer +the better for us!" + +And the trio advanced into the turnip-field. + +The light was in the ground floor; as one window was brightly +illuminated and two others more faintly, it might be supposed that +there was a single lamp in one corner of a large apartment; and a +certain tremulousness and temporary dwindling showed that a live +fire contributed to the effect. The sound of a voice now became +audible; and the trespassers paused to listen. It was pitched in a +high, angry key, but had still a good, full, and masculine note in +it. The utterance was voluble, too voluble even to be quite +distinct; a stream of words, rising and falling, with ever and +again a phrase thrown out by itself, as if the speaker reckoned on +its virtue. + +Suddenly another voice joined in. This time it was a woman's; and +if the man were angry, the woman was incensed to the degree of +fury. There was that absolutely blank composure known to suffering +males; that colourless unnatural speech which shows a spirit +accurately balanced between homicide and hysterics; the tone in +which the best of women sometimes utter words worse than death to +those most dear to them. If Abstract Bones-and-Sepulchre were to +be endowed with the gift of speech, thus, and not otherwise, would +it discourse. Leon was a brave man, and I fear he was somewhat +sceptically given (he had been educated in a Papistical country), +but the habit of childhood prevailed, and he crossed himself +devoutly. He had met several women in his career. It was obvious +that his instinct had not deceived him, for the male voice broke +forth instantly in a towering passion. + +The undergraduate, who had not understood the significance of the +woman's contribution, pricked up his ears at the change upon the +man. + +"There's going to be a free fight," he opined. + +There was another retort from the woman, still calm but a little +higher. + +"Hysterics?" asked Leon of his wife. "Is that the stage +direction?" + +"How should I know?" returned Elvira, somewhat tartly. + +"Oh, woman, woman!" said Leon, beginning to open the guitar-case. +"It is one of the burdens of my life, Monsieur Stubbs; they support +each other; they always pretend there is no system; they say it's +nature. Even Madame Berthelini, who is a dramatic artist!" + +"You are heartless, Leon," said Elvira; "that woman is in trouble." + +"And the man, my angel?" inquired Berthelini, passing the ribbon of +his guitar. "And the man, M'AMOUR?" + +"He is a man," she answered. + +"You hear that?" said Leon to Stubbs. "It is not too late for you. +Mark the intonation. And now," he continued, "what are we to give +them?" + +"Are you going to sing?" asked Stubbs. + +"I am a troubadour," replied Leon. "I claim a welcome by and for +my art. If I were a banker could I do as much?" + +"Well, you wouldn't need, you know," answered the undergraduate. + +"Egad," said Leon, "but that's true. Elvira, that is true." + +"Of course it is," she replied. "Did you not know it?" + +"My dear," answered Leon impressively, "I know nothing but what is +agreeable. Even my knowledge of life is a work of art superiorly +composed. But what are we to give them? It should be something +appropriate." + +Visions of "Let dogs delight" passed through the undergraduate's +mind; but it occurred to him that the poetry was English and that +he did not know the air. Hence he contributed no suggestion. + +"Something about our houselessness," said Elvira. + +"I have it," cried Leon. And he broke forth into a song of Pierre +Dupont's:- + + +"Savez-vous ou gite, +Mai, ce joli mois?" + + +Elvira joined in; so did Stubbs, with a good ear and voice, but an +imperfect acquaintance with the music. Leon and the guitar were +equal to the situation. The actor dispensed his throat-notes with +prodigality and enthusiasm; and, as he looked up to heaven in his +heroic way, tossing the black ringlets, it seemed to him that the +very stars contributed a dumb applause to his efforts, and the +universe lent him its silence for a chorus. That is one of the +best features of the heavenly bodies, that they belong to everybody +in particular; and a man like Leon, a chronic Endymion who managed +to get along without encouragement, is always the world's centre +for himself. + +He alone - and it is to be noted, he was the worst singer of the +three - took the music seriously to heart, and judged the serenade +from a high artistic point of view. Elvira, on the other hand, was +preoccupied about their reception; and, as for Stubbs, he +considered the whole affair in the light of a broad joke. + +"Know you the lair of May, the lovely month?" went the three voices +in the turnip-field. + +The inhabitants were plainly fluttered; the light moved to and fro, +strengthening in one window, paling in another; and then the door +was thrown open, and a man in a blouse appeared on the threshold +carrying a lamp. He was a powerful young fellow, with bewildered +hair and beard, wearing his neck open; his blouse was stained with +oil-colours in a harlequinesque disorder; and there was something +rural in the droop and bagginess of his belted trousers. + +From immediately behind him, and indeed over his shoulder, a +woman's face looked out into the darkness; it was pale and a little +weary, although still young; it wore a dwindling, disappearing +prettiness, soon to be quite gone, and the expression was both +gentle and sour, and reminded one faintly of the taste of certain +drugs. For all that, it was not a face to dislike; when the +prettiness had vanished, it seemed as if a certain pale beauty +might step in to take its place; and as both the mildness and the +asperity were characters of youth, it might be hoped that, with +years, both would merge into a constant, brave, and not unkindly +temper. + +"What is all this?" cried the man. + + + +CHAPTER VI + + + +Leon had his hat in his hand at once. He came forward with his +customary grace; it was a moment which would have earned him a +round of cheering on the stage. Elvira and Stubbs advanced behind +him, like a couple of Admetus's sheep following the god Apollo. + +"Sir," said Leon, "the hour is unpardonably late, and our little +serenade has the air of an impertinence. Believe me, sir, it is an +appeal. Monsieur is an artist, I perceive. We are here three +artists benighted and without shelter, one a woman - a delicate +woman - in evening dress - in an interesting situation. This will +not fail to touch the woman's heart of Madame, whom I perceive +indistinctly behind Monsieur her husband, and whose face speaks +eloquently of a well-regulated mind. Ah! Monsieur, Madame - one +generous movement, and you make three people happy! Two or three +hours beside your fire - I ask it of Monsieur in the name of Art - +I ask it of Madame by the sanctity of womanhood." + +The two, as by a tacit consent, drew back from the door. + +"Come in," said the man. + +"Entrez, Madame," said the woman. + +The door opened directly upon the kitchen of the house, which was +to all appearance the only sitting-room. The furniture was both +plain and scanty; but there were one or two landscapes on the wall +handsomely framed, as if they had already visited the committee- +rooms of an exhibition and been thence extruded. Leon walked up to +the pictures and represented the part of a connoisseur before each +in turn, with his usual dramatic insight and force. The master of +the house, as if irresistibly attracted, followed him from canvas +to canvas with the lamp. Elvira was led directly to the fire, +where she proceeded to warm herself, while Stubbs stood in the +middle of the floor and followed the proceedings of Leon with mild +astonishment in his eyes. + +"You should see them by daylight," said the artist. + +"I promise myself that pleasure," said Leon. "You possess, sir, if +you will permit me an observation, the art of composition to a T." + +"You are very good," returned the other. "But should you not draw +nearer to the fire?" + +"With all my heart," said Leon. + +And the whole party was soon gathered at the table over a hasty and +not an elegant cold supper, washed down with the least of small +wines. Nobody liked the meal, but nobody complained; they put a +good face upon it, one and all, and made a great clattering of +knives and forks. To see Leon eating a single cold sausage was to +see a triumph; by the time he had done he had got through as much +pantomime as would have sufficed for a baron of beef, and he had +the relaxed expression of the over-eaten. + +As Elvira had naturally taken a place by the side of Leon, and +Stubbs as naturally, although I believe unconsciously, by the side +of Elvira, the host and hostess were left together. Yet it was to +be noted that they never addressed a word to each other, nor so +much as suffered their eyes to meet. The interrupted skirmish +still survived in ill-feeling; and the instant the guests departed +it would break forth again as bitterly as ever. The talk wandered +from this to that subject - for with one accord the party had +declared it was too late to go to bed; but those two never relaxed +towards each other; Goneril and Regan in a sisterly tiff were not +more bent on enmity. + +It chanced that Elvira was so much tired by all the little +excitements of the night, that for once she laid aside her company +manners, which were both easy and correct, and in the most natural +manner in the world leaned her head on Leon's shoulder. At the +same time, fatigue suggesting tenderness, she locked the fingers of +her right hand into those of her husband's left; and, half closing +her eyes, dozed off into a golden borderland between sleep and +waking. But all the time she was not aware of what was passing, +and saw the painter's wife studying her with looks between contempt +and envy. + +It occurred to Leon that his constitution demanded the use of some +tobacco; and he undid his fingers from Elvira's in order to roll a +cigarette. It was gently done, and he took care that his +indulgence should in no other way disturb his wife's position. But +it seemed to catch the eye of the painter's wife with a special +significancy. She looked straight before her for an instant, and +then, with a swift and stealthy movement, took hold of her +husband's hand below the table. Alas! she might have spared +herself the dexterity. For the poor fellow was so overcome by this +caress that he stopped with his mouth open in the middle of a word, +and by the expression of his face plainly declared to all the +company that his thoughts had been diverted into softer channels. + +If it had not been rather amiable, it would have been absurdly +droll. His wife at once withdrew her touch; but it was plain she +had to exert some force. Thereupon the young man coloured and +looked for a moment beautiful. + +Leon and Elvira both observed the byplay, and a shock passed from +one to the other; for they were inveterate match-makers, especially +between those who were already married. + +"I beg your pardon," said Leon suddenly. "I see no use in +pretending. Before we came in here we heard sounds indicating - if +I may so express myself - an imperfect harmony." + +"Sir - " began the man. + +But the woman was beforehand. + +"It is quite true," she said. "I see no cause to be ashamed. If +my husband is mad I shall at least do my utmost to prevent the +consequences. Picture to yourself, Monsieur and Madame," she went +on, for she passed Stubbs over, "that this wretched person - a +dauber, an incompetent, not fit to be a sign-painter - receives +this morning an admirable offer from an uncle - an uncle of my own, +my mother's brother, and tenderly beloved - of a clerkship with +nearly a hundred and fifty pounds a year, and that he - picture to +yourself! - he refuses it! Why? For the sake of Art, he says. +Look at his art, I say - look at it! Is it fit to be seen? Ask +him - is it fit to be sold? And it is for this, Monsieur and +Madame, that he condemns me to the most deplorable existence, +without luxuries, without comforts, in a vile suburb of a country +town. O non!" she cried, "non - je ne me tairai pas - c'est plus +fort que moi! I take these gentlemen and this lady for judges - is +this kind? is it decent? is it manly? Do I not deserve better at +his hands after having married him and" - (a visible hitch) - "done +everything in the world to please him." + +I doubt if there were ever a more embarrassed company at a table; +every one looked like a fool; and the husband like the biggest. + +"The art of Monsieur, however," said Elvira, breaking the silence, +"is not wanting in distinction." + +"It has this distinction," said the wife, "that nobody will buy +it." + +"I should have supposed a clerkship - " began Stubbs. + +"Art is Art," swept in Leon. "I salute Art. It is the beautiful, +the divine; it is the spirit of the world, and the pride of life. +But - " And the actor paused. + +"A clerkship - " began Stubbs. + +"I'll tell you what it is," said the painter. "I am an artist, and +as this gentleman says, Art is this and the other; but of course, +if my wife is going to make my life a piece of perdition all day +long, I prefer to go and drown myself out of hand." + +"Go!" said his wife. "I should like to see you!" + +"I was going to say," resumed Stubbs, "that a fellow may be a clerk +and paint almost as much as he likes. I know a fellow in a bank +who makes capital water-colour sketches; he even sold one for +seven-and-six." + +To both the women this seemed a plank of safety; each hopefully +interrogated the countenance of her lord; even Elvira, an artist +herself! - but indeed there must be something permanently +mercantile in the female nature. The two men exchanged a glance; +it was tragic; not otherwise might two philosophers salute, as at +the end of a laborious life each recognised that he was still a +mystery to his disciples. + +Leon arose. + +"Art is Art," he repeated sadly. "It is not water-colour sketches, +nor practising on a piano. It is a life to be lived." + +"And in the meantime people starve!" observed the woman of the +house. "If that's a life, it is not one for me." + +"I'll tell you what," burst forth Leon; "you, Madame, go into +another room and talk it over with my wife; and I'll stay here and +talk it over with your husband. It may come to nothing, but let's +try." + +"I am very willing," replied the young woman; and she proceeded to +light a candle. "This way if you please." And she led Elvira +upstairs into a bedroom. "The fact is," said she, sitting down, +"that my husband cannot paint." + +"No more can mine act," replied Elvira. + +"I should have thought he could," returned the other; "he seems +clever." + +"He is so, and the best of men besides," said Elvira; "but he +cannot act." + +"At least he is not a sheer humbug like mine; he can at least +sing." + +"You mistake Leon," returned his wife warmly. "He does not even +pretend to sing; he has too fine a taste; he does so for a living. +And, believe me, neither of the men are humbugs. They are people +with a mission - which they cannot carry out." + +"Humbug or not," replied the other, "you came very near passing the +night in the fields; and, for my part, I live in terror of +starvation. I should think it was a man's mission to think twice +about his wife. But it appears not. Nothing is their mission but +to play the fool. Oh!" she broke out, "is it not something dreary +to think of that man of mine? If he could only do it, who would +care? But no - not he - no more than I can!" + +"Have you any children?" asked Elvira. + +"No; but then I may." + +"Children change so much," said Elvira, with a sigh. + +And just then from the room below there flew up a sudden snapping +chord on the guitar; one followed after another; then the voice of +Leon joined in; and there was an air being played and sung that +stopped the speech of the two women. The wife of the painter stood +like a person transfixed; Elvira, looking into her eyes, could see +all manner of beautiful memories and kind thoughts that were +passing in and out of her soul with every note; it was a piece of +her youth that went before her; a green French plain, the smell of +apple-flowers, the far and shining ringlets of a river, and the +words and presence of love. + +"Leon has hit the nail," thought Elvira to herself. "I wonder +how." + +The how was plain enough. Leon had asked the painter if there were +no air connected with courtship and pleasant times; and having +learnt what he wished, and allowed an interval to pass, he had +soared forth into + + +"O mon amante, +O mon desir, +Sachons cueillir +L'heure charmante!" + + +"Pardon me, Madame," said the painter's wife, "your husband sings +admirably well." + +"He sings that with some feeling," replied Elvira, critically, +although she was a little moved herself, for the song cut both ways +in the upper chamber; "but it is as an actor and not as a +musician." + +"Life is very sad," said the other; "it so wastes away under one's +fingers." + +"I have not found it so," replied Elvira. "I think the good parts +of it last and grow greater every day." + +"Frankly, how would you advise me?" + +"Frankly, I would let my husband do what he wished. He is +obviously a very loving painter; you have not yet tried him as a +clerk. And you know - if it were only as the possible father of +your children - it is as well to keep him at his best." + +"He is an excellent fellow," said the wife. + + +They kept it up till sunrise with music and all manner of good +fellowship; and at sunrise, while the sky was still temperate and +clear, they separated on the threshold with a thousand excellent +wishes for each other's welfare. Castel-le-Gachis was beginning to +send up its smoke against the golden East; and the church bell was +ringing six. + +"My guitar is a familiar spirit," said Leon, as he and Elvira took +the nearest way towards the inn, "it resuscitated a Commissary, +created an English tourist, and reconciled a man and wife." + +Stubbs, on his part, went off into the morning with reflections of +his own. + +"They are all mad," thought he, "all mad - but wonderfully decent." + + + + + +End of The Project Gutenberg Etext of New Arabian Nights, by Stevenson + diff --git a/old/narab10.zip b/old/narab10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..4df8743 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/narab10.zip |