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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 www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The World's Greatest Books, Vol VI. + +Author: Various + +Release Date: February 20, 2004 [EBook #11180] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WORLD'S GREATEST BOOKS *** + + + + +Produced by John Hagerson, Kevin Handy and PG Distributed Proofreaders + + + + + +</pre> + + +<h1>THE WORLD'S</h1> <h1>GREATEST</h1> <h1>BOOKS</h1> + +<h2>JOINT EDITORS</h2> + +<h3>ARTHUR MEE</h3> <h4>Editor and Founder of the Book of Knowledge</h4> + +<h3>J.A. HAMMERTON</h3> <h4>Editor of Harmsworth's Universal Encyclopaedia</h4> + +<h3>VOL. VI</h3> <h3>FICTION</h3> + + +<h4>Copyright, MCMX</h4> + +<hr /> + +<h2><i>Table of Contents</i></h2> + +<a href="#SHERIDAN_LE_FANU">LE FANU, SHERIDAN</a><br /> + <a href="#Uncle_Silas">Uncle Sila</a>s<br /><br /> +<a href="#RENE_LE_SAGE">LESAGE, RENÉ</a><br /> + <a href="#Gil_Blas">Gil Blas</a><br /><br /> +<a href="#CHARLES_LEVER">LEVER, CHARLES</a><br /> + <a href="#Charles_OMalley">Charles O'Malley</a><br /> + <a href="#Tom_Burke_of_Ours">Tom Burke of Ours</a><br /><br /> +<a href="#MG_LEWIS">LEWIS, M.G.</a><br /> + <a href="#Ambrosio_or_the_Monk">Ambrosio, or the Monk</a><br /><br /> +<a href="#ELIZA_LYNN_LINTON">LINTON, MRS. LYNN</a><br /> + <a href="#Joshua_Davidson">Joshua Davidson</a><br /><br /> +<a href="#SAMUEL_LOVER">LOVER, SAMUEL</a><br /> + <a href="#Handy_Andy">Handy Andy</a><br /><br /> +<a href="#EDWARD_BULWER_LYTTON">LYTTON, EDWARD BULWER</a><br /> + <a href="#Eugene_Aram">Eugene Aram</a><br /> + <a href="#The_Last_Days_of_Pompeii">Last Days of Pompeii</a><br /> + <a href="#The_Last_of_the_Barons">The Last of the Barons</a><br /><br /> +<a href="#HENRY_MACKENZIE">MACKENZIE, HENRY</a><br /> + <a href="#The_Man_of_Feeling">Man of Feeling</a><br /><br /> +<a href="#XAVIER_DE_MAISTRE">MAISTRE, COUNT XAVIER DE</a><br /> + <a href="#A_Journey_Round_My_Room">A Journey Round my Room</a><br /><br /> +<a href="#SIR_THOMAS_MALORY">MALORY, SIR THOMAS</a><br /> + <a href="#Morte_dArthur">Morte d'Arthur</a><br /><br /> +<a href="#ANNE_MANNING">MANNING, ANNE</a><br /> + <a href="#The_Household_of_Sir_Thomas_More">Household of Sir Thomas More</a><br /><br /> +<a href="#ALESSANDRO_MANZONI">MANZONI, ALESSANDRO</a><br /> + <a href="#The_Betrothed">The Betrothed</a><br /><br /> +<a href="#FREDERICK_MARRYAT">MARRYAT, CAPT</a><br /> + <a href="#Mr_Midshipman_Easy">Mr. Midshipman Easy</a><br /> + <a href="#Peter_Simple">Peter Simple</a><br /><br /> +<a href="#CHARLES_MATURIN">MATURIN, CHARLES</a><br /> + <a href="#Melmoth_the_Wanderer">Melmoth the Wanderer</a><br /><br /> +<a href="#DIEGO_DE_MENDOZA">MENDOZA, DIEGO DE</a><br /> + <a href="#Lazarillo_de_Tormes">Lazarillo de Tonnes</a><br /><br /> +<a href="#DMITRI_MEREJKOWSKI">MEREJOWSKI, DMITRI</a><br /> + <a href="#The_Death_of_the_Gods">Death of the Gods</a><br /><br /> +<a href="#PROSPER_MERIMEE">MÉRIMÉE, PROSPER</a><br /> + <a href="#Carmen">Carmen</a><br /><br /> +<a href="#MARY_RUSSELL_MITFORD">MITFORD, MARY RUSSELL</a><br /> + <a href="#Our_Village">Our Village</a><br /><br /> +<a href="#DAVID_MOIR">MOIR, DAVID</a><br /> + <a href="#Autobiography_of_Mansie_Wauch">Mansie Wauch</a><br /><br /> +<a href="#JAMES_MORIER">MORIER, JAMES</a><br /> + <a href="#The_Adventures_of_Hajji_Baba_of_Ispahan">Hajji Baba</a><br /><br /> +<a href="#DAVID_CHRISTIE_MURRAY">MURRAY, DAVID CHRISTIE</a><br /> + <a href="#The_Way_of_the_World">Way of the World</a><br /><br /> +<a href="#FRANK_NORRIS">NORRIS, FRANK</a><br /> + <a href="#The_Pit">The Pit</a><br /><br /> +<a href="#GEORGES_OHNET">OHNET, GEORGES</a><br /> + <a href="#The_Ironmaster">The Ironmaster</a><br /><br /> +<a href="#OUIDA_LOUISE_DE_LA_RAMEE">OUIDA</a><br /> + <a href="#Under_Two_Flags">Under Two Flags</a><br /><br /> +<a href="#JAMES_PAYN">PAYN, JAMES</a><br /> + <a href="#Lost_Sir_Massingberd">Lost Sir Massingberd</a><br /><br /> + + +<p>A Complete Index of THE WORLD'S GREATEST BOOKS will be found at the end +of Volume XX.</p> + +<hr /> + + + +<h3><i>Acknowledgment</i></h3> + +<p>Acknowledgment and thanks for permission to use the following selections +are herewith tendered to G.P. Putnam's Sons, New York, for "The Death of +the Gods," by Dmitri Merejkowski; and to Doubleday, Page & Company, New +York, for "The Pit," by Frank Norris.</p> + +<hr /> + + + + +<h2><a name="SHERIDAN_LE_FANU"></a>SHERIDAN LE FANU</h2> + + +<h3><a name="Uncle_Silas"></a>Uncle Silas</h3> + + +<blockquote> Joseph Sheridan le Fanu, Irish novelist, poet, and journalist, +was born at Dublin on August 28, 1814. His grandmother was a sister of +Richard Brinsley Sheridan, his father a dean. Educated at Trinity College, +Dublin, Le Fanu became a contributor to the "Dublin University Magazine," +afterwards its editor, and finally its proprietor. He also owned and edited +a Dublin evening paper. Le Fanu first came into prominence in 1837 as the +author of the two brilliant Irish ballads, "Phaudhrig Croohore" and "Shamus +O'Brien." His novels, which number more than a dozen, were first published +in most cases in his magazine. His power of producing a feeling of weird +mystery ranks him with Edgar Allan Poe. It may be questioned whether any +Irish novelist has written with more power. The most representative of his +stories is "Uncle Silas, a Tale of Bartram-Haugh," which appeared in 1864. +Le Fanu died on February 7, 1873. </blockquote> + + +<h4><i>I.--Death, the Intruder</i></h4> + + +<p>It was winter, and great gusts were rattling at the windows; a very dark +night, and a very cheerful fire, blazing in a genuine old fire-place in a +sombre old room. A girl of a little more than seventeen, slight and rather +tall, with a countenance rather sensitive and melancholy, was sitting at +the tea-table in a reverie. I was that girl.</p> + +<p>The only other person in the room was my father, Mr. Ruthyn, of Knowl. +Rather late in life he had married, and his beautiful young wife had died, +leaving me to his care. This bereavement changed him--made him more odd and +taciturn than ever. There was also some disgrace about his younger brother, +my Uncle Silas, which he felt bitterly, and he had given himself up to the +secluded life of a student.</p> + +<p>He was pacing the floor. I remember the start with which, not suspecting +he was close by me, I lifted my eyes, and saw him stand looking fixedly on +me from less than a yard away.</p> + +<p>"She won't understand," he whispered, "no, she won't. <i>Will</i> she? +They are easily frightened--ay, they are. I'd better do it another way, and +she'll not suspect--she'll not suppose. See, child?" he said, after a +second or two. "<i>Remember</i> this key."</p> + +<p>It was oddly shaped, and unlike others.</p> + +<p>"It opens that." And he tapped sharply on the door of a cabinet. "You +will tell nobody what I have said, under pain of my displeasure."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, sir!"</p> + +<p>"Good child! <i>Except</i> under one contingency. That is, in case I +should be absent and Dr. Bryerly--you recollect the thin gentleman in +spectacles and a black wig, who spent three days here last month?--should +come and enquire for the key, you understand, in my absence."</p> + +<p>"But you will then be absent, sir," I said. "How am I to find the +key?"</p> + +<p>"True, child. I am glad you are so wise. <i>That</i>, you will find, I +have provided for. I have a very sure friend--a friend whom I once +misunderstood, but now appreciate."</p> + +<p>I wondered silently whether it would be Uncle Silas.</p> + +<p>"He'll make me a call some day soon, and I must make a little journey +with him. He's not to be denied; I have no choice. But on the whole I +rather like it. Remember, I say, I rather like it."</p> + +<p>I think it was about a fortnight after this conversation that I was one +night sitting in the great drawing-room window, when on a sudden, on the +grass before me stood an odd figure--a very tall woman in grey draperies, +courtesying rather fantastically, smiling very unpleasantly on me, and +gabbling and cackling shrilly--I could not distinctly hear <i>what</i>--and +gesticulating oddly with her long arms and hands. This was Madame de la +Rougierre, my new governess.</p> + +<p>I think all the servants hated her. She was by no means a pleasant +<i>gouvernante</i> for a nervous girl of my years. She was always making +excuses to consult my father about my contumacy and temper. She tormented +me by ghost stories to cover her nocturnal ramblings, and she betrayed a +terrifying curiosity about his health and his will. My cousin Monica, Lady +Knollys, who visited us about this time, was shocked at her presence in the +house; it was the cause of a rupture between my father and her. But not +even a frustrated attempt to abduct me during one of our walks--which I am +sure madame connived at--could shake my father's confidence in her, though +he was perfectly transported with fury on hearing what had happened. It was +not until I found her examining his cabinet by means of a false key that he +dismissed her; but madame had contrived to leave her glamour over me, and +now and then the memory of her parting menaces would return with an +unexpected pang of fear.</p> + +<p>My father never alluded again to Madame de la Rougierre, but, whether +connected with her exposure and dismissal or not, there appeared to be some +new trouble at work in his mind.</p> + +<p>"I am anxious about you, Maud," he said. "<i>You</i> are more interested +than <i>I</i> can be in vindicating his character."</p> + +<p>"Whose character, sir?" I ventured to inquire during the pause that +followed.</p> + +<p>"Whose? Your Uncle Silas's. In course of nature he must survive me. He +will then represent the family name. Would you make some sacrifice to clear +that name, Maud?"</p> + +<p>I answered briefly; but my face, I believe, showed my enthusiasm.</p> + +<p>"I can tell you, Maud, if my life could have done it, it should not have +been undone. But I had almost made up my mind to leave all to time to +illuminate, or <i>consume</i>. But I think little Maud would like to +contribute to the restitution of her family name. It may cost you +something. Are you willing to buy it at a sacrifice? Your Uncle Silas," he +said, speaking suddenly in loud and fierce tones that sounded almost +terrible, "lies under an intolerable slander. He troubles himself little +about it; he is selfishly sunk in futurity--a feeble visionary. I am not +so. The character and influence of an ancient family are a peculiar +heritage--sacred, but destructible. You and I, we'll leave one proof on +record which, fairly read, will go far to convince the world."</p> + +<p>That night my father bade me good-night early. I had fallen into a doze +when I was roused by a dreadful crash and a piercing scream from Mrs. Rusk. +Scream followed scream, pealing one after the other unabated, wilder and +more terror-stricken. Then came a strange lull, and the dull sounds of some +heavy body being moved.</p> + +<p>What was that dreadful sound? Who had entered my father's chamber? It +was the visitor whom he had so long expected, with whom he was to make the +unknown journey, leaving me alone. The intruder was Death!</p> + + +<h4><i>II.--The Sorceries of Bartram-Haugh</i></h4> + + +<p>One of those fearful aneurisms that lie close to the heart had given way +in a moment. He had fallen, with the dreadful crash I had heard, dead upon +the floor. He fell across the door, which caused a difficulty in opening +it. Mrs. Rusk could not force it open. No wonder she had given way to +terror. I think I should have lost my reason.</p> + +<p>I do not know how those awful days, and still more awful nights, passed +over. Lady Knollys came, and was very kind. She was odd, but her +eccentricity was leavened with strong commonsense; and I have often thought +since with gratitude of the tact with which she managed my grief.</p> + +<p>I did not know where to write to Dr. Bryerly, to whom I had promised the +key, but in accordance with my father's written directions, his death was +forthwith published in the principal London papers. He came at midnight, +accordingly, and on the morrow the will was read. Except for a legacy of +£10,000 to his only brother, Silas Ruthyn, and a few minor legacies +to relations and servants, my father had left his whole estate to me, +appointing my Uncle Silas my sole guardian, with full parental authority +over me until I should have reached the age of twenty-one, up to which time +I was to reside under his care at Bartram-Haugh, with the sum of +£2,000 paid yearly to him for my suitable maintenance and +education.</p> + +<p>I was startled by the expression of cousin Monica's face. She looked +ghastly and angry.</p> + +<p>"To whom," she asked, with an effort, "will the property belong in +case--in case my cousin should die before she comes of age?"</p> + +<p>"To the next heir, her uncle, Mr. Silas Ruthyn. He's both heir-at-law +and next-of-kin," replied the attorney.</p> + +<p>She was anxious to persuade my uncle to relinquish his guardianship to +her; but the evening of the funeral a black-bordered letter came from him, +bidding me remain at Knowl until he could arrange for my journey to him. +There was a postscript, which made my cheek tingle.</p> + +<p>"Pray present my respects to Lady Knollys, who, I understand, is +sojourning at Knowl. I would observe that a lady who cherishes, I have +reason to fear, unfriendly feelings against your uncle is not the most +desirable companion for his ward. But, upon the express condition that I am +not made the subject of your discussions, I do not interpose to bring your +intercourse to an immediate close."</p> + +<p>"Did I ever hear! Well, if this isn't impertinent!" exclaimed Lady +Knollys. "I did not intend to talk about him, but now I <i>will</i>." And +so it was that I heard the story of that enigmatical person--martyr, angel, +demon--Uncle Silas, with whom my fate was now so strangely linked.</p> + +<p>It was twenty years ago. He was not a reformed rake, but a ruined one +then. My father had helped him again and again, until his marriage with a +barmaid. After that he allowed him five hundred a year, and the use of his +estate of Bartram-Haugh. Then Mr. Charke, a gentleman of the turf, who was +staying with my uncle for Doncaster Races, was found dead in his room--he +had committed suicide by cutting his throat. And Uncle Silas was suspected +of having killed him.</p> + +<p>This wretched Mr. Charke had won heavy wagers at the races from Uncle +Silas, and at night they had played very deep at cards. Next morning his +servant could not enter his room; it was locked on the inside, the window +was fastened by a screw, and the chimney was barred with iron. It seemed +that he had hermetically sealed himself in, and then killed himself. But he +had been in boisterous spirits. Also, though his own razor was found near +his right hand, the fingers of his left hand were cut to the bone. Then the +memorandum-book in which his bets were noted was nowhere to be found. +Besides, he had written two letters to a friend, saying how profitable he +had found his visit to Bartram-Haugh, and that he held Uncle Silas's I O +U's for a frightful sum; and although my uncle stoutly alleged he did not +owe him a guinea, there had scarcely been time in one evening for him to +win back so much money. In a moment the storm was up, and although my uncle +met it bravely, he failed to overcome it, and became a social outcast, in +spite of all my father's efforts.</p> + +<p>And now I was to rehabilitate him before the world, and accordingly all +preparations were made for my departure from Knowl; and at last the morning +came--a day of partings, a day of novelty, and regrets.</p> + +<p>I remember we passed a gypsy bivouac on our journey, with fires alight, +on the edge of a great, heathy moor. I had my fortune told, and I am +ashamed to confess I paid the gypsy a pound for a brass pin with a round +bead for a head--a charmed pin, which would keep away rat, and cat, and +snake, a malevolent spirit, or "a cove to cut my throat," from hurting me. +The purchase was partly an indication of the trepidations of that period of +my life. At all events, I had her pin and she my pound, and I venture to +say I was the gladder of the two.</p> + +<p>It was moonlight when we reached Bartram-Haugh. It had a forlorn +character of desertion and decay, contrasting almost awfully with the +grandeur of its proportions and richness of its architecture. A shabby +little old man, a young plump, but very pretty female figure in unusually +short petticoats, and a dowdy old charwoman, all stood in the door among a +riot of dogs. I sat shyly back, peeping at the picture before me.</p> + +<p>"Will you tell me--yes or no--is my cousin in the coach?" screamed the +young lady. She received me with a hug and a hearty "buss," as she called +that salutation, and was evidently glad to see me. Then, after leading me +to my bed-room to make a hurried toilet, she conducted me to a handsome +wainscotted room, where my Uncle Silas awaited me.</p> + +<p>A singular looking old man--a face like marble, with a fearful +monumental look--an apparition, drawn, as it seemed, in black and white, +venerable, bloodless, fiery-eyed, with its strange look of power and an +expression so bewildering. Was it derision, or anguish, or cruelty, or +patience?</p> + +<p>He said something in his clear, gentle, but cold voice, and, taking both +my hands, led me affectionately to a chair near his own. He was a miserable +invalid, he told me, after speaking a little eulogy of his brother and +examining me closely, respecting his illness and its symptoms. At last, +remarking that I must be fatigued, he rose and kissed me with a solemn +tenderness, and, placing his hand on a large Bible, bade me "Remember that +book; in it lives my only hope. Consult it, my beloved niece, day and night +as the only oracle."</p> + +<p>"I'm awful afraid of the governor, I am," said Cousin Milly, when we had +left him. "I was in a qualm. When he spies me a-napping maybe he don't +fetch me a prod with his pencil-case over the head."</p> + +<p>But Milly was a pretty and a clever creature in spite of her uncouth +dialect, and I liked her very much. We spent much time taking long country +rambles and exploring the old house, many of whose rooms were closed and +shuttered. Of my uncle we saw little. He was "queerish," Milly said, and I +learnt afterwards he took much laudanum.</p> + +<p>My other cousin, Dudley, I did not meet till later. To my horror, I +beheld in him one of the party of ruffians who had terrified me so much the +day of the attempted abduction at Knowl; but he stoutly denied ever having +been there with an air so confident that I began to think I must be the +dupe of a chance resemblance. My uncle viewed him with a strange, paternal +affection. But dear Cousin Monica had written asking Milly and me to go to +her, and we had some of the pleasantest and happiest days of our lives at +her house of Elverston, for there Milly met her good little curate, the +Rev. Sprigge Biddlepen, and Lord Ilbury.</p> + +<p>Uncle Silas was terribly ill when we returned to Bartram-Haugh, the +result of an overdose of opium; but for the doctor's aid he would have +died. Remembering how desperate Lady Knollys had told me his monetary +position was, a new and dreadful suspicion began to haunt me.</p> + +<p>"Had he attempted to poison himself?"</p> + +<p>I remember I was left alone with him while his attendant fetched a fresh +candle. A small thick Bible lay on the mantle-shelf. I turned over its +leaves, and lighted on two or three odd-looking papers--promissory notes, I +believe--when Uncle Silas, dressed in a long white morning-gown, slid over +the end of the bed and stood behind me with a deathlike scowl and simper. +Diving over my shoulder, with his long, thin hand he snatched the Bible +from me, and whispered over my head, "The serpent beguiled her, and she did +eat."</p> + +<p>It seemed an hour before Wyat came back. You may be sure I did not +prolong my watch. I had a long, hysterical fit of weeping when I got to my +room: the sorceries of Bartram-Haugh were enveloping.</p> + +<p>About this time Dudley began to persecute me with his odious attentions. +I was obliged to complain of him to my uncle. He was disposed to think well +of the match; but I could not consent, and it was arranged that my cousin +should go abroad. And then that night I had the key to some of the +mysterious doings at Bartram-Haugh--the comings and goings in the darkness +which had so often startled me--the face of Madame de la Rougierre peeped +into the room.</p> + + +<h4><i>III.--A Night of Terror</i></h4> + + +<p>Shortly afterwards I lost Milly, who was sent to a French school, where +I was to follow her in three months. I bade her farewell at the end of +Windmill Wood, and was sitting on the trunk of a tree when Meg Hawkes, a +girl to whom I had once been kind, passed by.</p> + +<p>"Don't ye speak, nor look; fayther spies us," she said quickly. "Don't +ye be alone wi' Master Dudley nowhere, for the world's sake!"</p> + +<p>The injunction was so startling that I had many an hour of anxious +conjecture, and many a horrible vigil by night. But ten days later I was +summoned to my uncle's room. He implored me once more to wed Dudley--to +listen to the appeal of an old and broken-hearted man.</p> + +<p>"You see my suspense--my miserable and frightful suspense," he said. +"I'm very miserable, nearly desperate. I stand before you in the attitude +of a suppliant."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I must--I must--I <i>must</i> say no!" I cried. "Don't question me, +don't press me. I could not--I <i>could</i> not do what you ask!"</p> + +<p>"I yield, Maud--I yield, my dear. I will <i>not</i> press you. I have +spoken to you frankly, perhaps too frankly; but agony and despair will +speak out and plead, even with the most obdurate and cruel!"</p> + +<p>He shut the door, not violently, but with a resolute hand, and I thought +I heard a cry.</p> + +<p>The discovery that Dudley was already married spared me further +importunity. I was anxious to relieve my uncle's necessities, which, I knew +were pressing; and the attorney from Feltram was up with him all night, +trying in vain to devise some means by which I might do so. The morning +after, I was told I must write to Lady Knollys to ask if I might go to her, +as there was shortly to be an execution in the house.</p> + +<p>I met Dudley on my way through the hall. He spoke oddly about his +father, and made a very strange proposal to me--that I should give him my +written promise for twenty thousand pounds, and he would "take me cleverly +out o' Bartram-Haugh and put me wi' my cousin Knollys!"</p> + +<p>I refused indignantly, but he caught me by the wrist.</p> + +<p>"Don't ye be a-flyin' out," he said peremptorily. "Take it or leave +it--on or off! Can't ye speak wi' common sense for once? I'll take ye out +o' all this, if you'll gi'e me what I say."</p> + +<p>He looked black when I refused again. I judged it best to tell my uncle +of his offer. He was startled, but made what excuse he could, smiling +askance, a pale, peaked smile that haunted me. And then, once more, +entering an unfrequented room, I came upon the great bony figure of Madame +de la Rougierre. She was to be my companion for a week or two, I was told, +and shortly after her coming I found my walks curtailed. I wrote again to +my Cousin Knollys, imploring her to take me away. This letter my uncle +intercepted, and when she came in reply to my former letter, I had but the +sight of her carriage driving swiftly away.</p> + +<p>The morning after I was informed madame was to take me to join Milly in +France. As Uncle Silas had directed, I wrote to Cousin Monica from London. +I know madame asked me what I would do for her if she took me to Lady +Knollys. I was inwardly startled, but refused, seeing before me only a +tempter and betrayer; and together we ended our journey, driving from the +station through the dark and starless night to find ourselves at last in +Mr. Charke's room at Bartram-Haugh.</p> + +<p>There were bailiffs in the house, I was told. I was locked in. I +entreated madame wildly, piteously, to save me; but she mocked me in my +agony. I escaped for a brief moment, and sought my uncle. I can never +forget the look he fixed on me.</p> + +<p>"What is the meaning of this? Why is she here?" he asked, in a stern, +icy tone. "You were always odd, niece. I begin to believe you are insane. +There's no evil intended you, by--, there is none! Go to your room, and +don't vex me, there's a good girl!"</p> + +<p>I went upstairs with madame, like a somnambulist. She was to leave me to +sleep alone that night. I had lost the talismanic pin I always stuck in the +bolster of my bed. Uncle Silas sent up spiced claret in a little silver +flagon. Madame abstractedly drank it off, and threw herself on my bed. I +believed she was feigning sleep only, and really watching me; but now I +think the claret was drugged.</p> + +<p>About an hour afterwards I heard them digging in the courtyard. Like a +thunder-bolt it smote my brain. "They are making my grave!"</p> + +<p>After the first dreadful stun, I grew wild, running up and down wringing +my hands, and gasping prayers to heaven. Then a dreadful calm stole over +me.</p> + + +<h4><i>IV.--The Open Door</i></h4> + + +<p>It was a very still night. A peculiar sound startled me and I saw a man +descend by a rope, and take his stand on the windowsill. In a moment more, +window, bars and all, swung noiselessly open, and Dudley Ruthyn stepped +into the room.</p> + +<p>He stole, in a groping way, to the bed, and stooped over it. Nearly at +the same moment there came a scrunching blow; an unnatural shriek, +accompanied by a convulsive sound, as of the motion of running, and the +arms drumming on the bed, and then another blow--and silence. The +diabolical surgery was over. There came a little tapping at the door.</p> + +<p>"Who's that?" whispered Dudley hoarsely.</p> + +<p>"A friend," answered a sweet voice, and Uncle Silas entered.</p> + +<p>Coolness was given me in that dreadful moment. I knew that all depended +on my being prompt and resolute. With a mental prayer for help, I glided +from the room and descended the stairs. I tried the outer door. To my wild +surprise it was open. In a moment I was in the free air--and as +instantaneously was seized by Tom Brice, Meg's sweetheart, who was waiting +to drive the guilty father and son away.</p> + +<p>"They shan't hurt ye, miss. Get ye in; I don't care a d----!" he said in +a wild, fierce whisper. To me it was the voice of an angel. He drove over +the grass so that our passage was noiseless; then, on reaching the highway, +at a gallop. At length we entered Elverston. I think I was half wild. I +could not speak, but ran, with a loud, long scream, into Cousin Monica's +arms. I forget a great deal after that.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>It was not till two years afterwards that I learnt that Uncle Silas was +found next morning dead of an overdose of laudanum, and that Dudley had +disappeared.</p> + +<p>Milly married her good little clergyman. I am Lady Ilbury now, happy in +the affection of a beloved and noble-hearted husband. A tiny voice is +calling "Mamma;" the shy, useless girl you have known is now a mother, +thinking, and trembling while she smiles, how strong is love, how frail is +life.</p> + +<hr /> + + + + +<h2><a name="RENE_LE_SAGE"></a>RENÉ LE SAGE</h2> + + +<h3><a name="Gil_Blas"></a>Gil Blas</h3> + + +<blockquote> Except that he was born at Sarzeau, in Brittany, on May 8, +1668, and that he was the son of the novelist Claude le Sage, little is +known of the youth of Alain René le Sage. Until he was eighteen he +was educated with the Jesuits at Vannes, when, it is conjectured he went to +Paris to continue his studies for the Bar. An early marriage drove him to +seek a livelihood by means of literature, and shortly afterwards he found a +valuable and sympathetic friend and patron in the Abbé de Lyonne, +who not only bestowed upon him a pension of about £125, but also gave +him the use of his library. The first results of this favour were +adaptations of two plays from Rojas and Lope de Vega, which appeared some +time during the first two or three years of the eighteenth century. Le +Sage's reputation as a playwright and as a novelist rests, oddly enough, in +each case on one work. As the author of "Tuscaret," produced in 1709, he +contributed to the stage one of the best comedies in the French language; +as author of "The Adventures of Gil Blas of Santillana" he stands for all +time in the front rank of the world's novelists. Here he brought the art of +story-writing to the highest level of artistic truth. The first and second +parts of the work appeared in 1715, the third in 1724, and the fourth in +1735. Le Sage died at Boulogne on November 17, 1747. </blockquote> + + +<h4><i>I.--I Start on my Travels</i></h4> + + +<p>My uncle, Canon Perez, was a worthy priest. To live well was, in his +opinion, the chief duty of man. He lived very well. He kept the best table +in the town of Oviedo. I was very glad of this, as I lived with him, my +parents being too poor to keep me.</p> + +<p>My uncle gave me an excellent education. He even learned to read so as +to be able to teach me himself. There were few ecclesiastics of his rank in +Spain in the early part of the seventeenth century who could read a +breviary as well as he could when I left him, at the age of seventeen, to +continue my duties at the University of Salamanca.</p> + +<p>"Here are forty ducats, Gil Blas," he said to me when we parted. "And +you can take my old mule and sell it when you reach Salamanca. Then you +will be able to live comfortable until you obtain a good position."</p> + +<p>It is, I suppose, about two hundred miles from Oviedo to Salamanca. Not +very far, you will say, but it took me two years to cover the distance. +When one travels along a high road at the age of seventeen, master of one's +actions, of an old mule, and forty ducats, one is bound to meet with +adventures on the way. I was out to see the world, and I meant to see it; +my self-confidence was equalled only by my utter inexperience. Out of my +first misadventure came an extraordinary piece of good luck. I fell into +the hands of some brigands, and lost my mule and my money. Among my fellow +prisoners was a wealthy lady, Doña Mencia, of Burgos. I helped her to +escape and got away myself, and when I came to Burgos she rewarded me very +handsomely with a diamond ring and a thousand ducats. This changed my plan +of life completely. Why should I go and study at Salamanca? Did I want to +become a priest or a pedant? I was now sure that I didn't.</p> + +<p>"Gil Blas," I said, "you are a good-looking lad, clever, well-educated, +and ambitious. Why not go to Madrid and try to get some place at the court +of King Philip the Third?"</p> + +<p>I spent sixty ducats in dressing myself out gaily in the manner of a +rich cavalier, and I engaged a man of about thirty years of age to come +with me as my servant.</p> + +<p>Lamela, as he was called, was quite different from the other valets who +applied for the position. He did not demand any sum as wages.</p> + +<p>"Only let me come with you, sir," he said. "I shall be content with +whatever you give me."</p> + +<p>It seemed to me that I had got a very good servant. We slept at Duengas +the first night, and on the second day we arrived at Valladolid. As I was +sitting in my inn, a charming lady entered and asked to see me.</p> + +<p>"My dear Gil Blas," she exclaimed. "Lamela has just told me of your +arrival. I am a cousin of Doña Mencia, and I received a letter from her +this morning. How brave it was of you to rescue her from those wicked +brigands! I can't leave you in this inn. You must come at once to my house. +My brother, Don Raphael, will be delighted to see you when he returns in an +hour or two from our country castle."</p> + +<p>Doña Camilla, as the lady was called, led me to a great house in the +best part of the town, and at the door we met Don Raphael. "What a handsome +young cavalier you are, my dear Gil Blas!" he said. "You must make up your +mind to stay with us for some weeks."</p> + +<p>The supper was a pleasant affair. Doña Camilla and her brother found +something to admire in everything I said, and I began to fancy myself as a +wit. It was very late when Lamela led me to my bed-room and helped me to +undress. And it was very late when I awoke next day. I called to Lamela, +but he did not come, so I arose and dressed myself and went downstairs. To +my surprise there was nobody in the house, and all my baggage had +disappeared. I looked at my hand--the diamond ring had gone. Then I +understood why Lamela had been willing to come with me without troubling +about wages. I had fallen for a second time into the hands of thieves. They +had hired the furnished house for a week, and had trapped me in it. It was +clear that I had boasted too much at Burgos about the thousand ducats which +Doña Mencia gave me. Now I found myself at Valladolid quite penniless.</p> + +<p>As I walked along the street in a very despondent mood, not knowing how +to get a meal, someone tapped me on the shoulder, and said, "Good gracious, +Gil Blas, I hardly knew you! What a princely dress you've got on. A fine +sword, silk stockings, a velvet mantle and doublet with silver lacings! +Have you come into a fortune?"</p> + +<p>I turned around, and found it was Fabrice, an old schoolfellow, the son +of a barber at Oviedo. I told him of my adventure.</p> + +<p>"Pride comes before a fall, you see," he said with a laugh. "But I can +get you a place if you care to take it. One of the principal physicians of +the town, Dr. Sangdado, is looking for a secretary. I know you write a +very good hand. Sell your fine raiment and buy some plain clothes, and I +will take you to the doctor."</p> + +<p>I am glad to say that I obtained the post, but I wasn't altogether +satisfied with it. Dr. Sangrado believed in vegetarianism, and he gave me +only peas and beans and baked apples to eat, and not much of those. At the +end of a fortnight I resolved to go as a servant in some house: where meat +and wine were to be had.</p> + +<p>"Don't be foolish," said Sangrado. "Your fortune is made if you only +stay with me. I am getting old and I require someone to help me in my +practice. You can do it. You need not waste your time in studying all the +nonsense written by other doctors. You have only to follow my method. Never +give a patient medicine. Bleed him well, and tell him to drink a pint of +hot water every half hour. If that doesn't cure him--well, it's time he +died."</p> + +<p>So I donned one of Sangrado's gowns, which gave me a very original +appearance, as it was much too long and ample for me, and then I began to +attend his patients. A few of them, I believe, managed to recover. One day +a woman stopped me and took me into her house to look at her niece. I +recognised the girl as soon as I saw her. It was the pretty adventuress, +Camilla, who had decoyed me and helped to rob me of my thousand ducats. +When I took her hand to feel her pulse I perceived that she was wearing my +diamond ring. Happily, she was too ill to know me. After ordering her to be +bled and given a pint of warm water every half hour, I went out and talked +the matter over with Fabrice. We resolved not to call in the police, as +they would certainly keep whatever money of mine they recovered. The ways +of the law in Spain in the seventeenth century are very strange and +intricate.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, I returned late at night to the house accompanied by a +sergeant of the police and five of his men, all well armed. I then awoke +Camilla, and told her to dress herself and attend before the +magistrate.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Gil Blas," she cried, "have pity on me. Lamela and Raphael have run +off with the money, and left me alone here on a bed of sickness."</p> + +<p>I knew this was true, as I had made inquiries; but I also knew that +Camilla had had a share of the spoil, and had bought some valuable jewelry +with it. So I said, "Very well, I won't be hard on you. But you must give +me back the diamond ring which you are wearing, and you must satisfy these +officers of the police."</p> + +<p>Poor Camilla understood what I meant. It is a costly matter to satisfy +the Spanish police. She gave me the ring, and then, with a sigh, she opened +a casket and handed the sergeant everything it contained--a necklace of +beautiful pearls, a pair of fine earrings, and some other jewels.</p> + +<p>"Isn't this better than calling in the police?" said the sergeant when +we had left the house. "There are the jewels. Two hundred ducats' worth, +I'll be bound!"</p> + +<p>No doubt, dear reader, you have seen through this little plot. The +supposed sergeant was my old friend, Fabrice, and his five men were five +young barbers of his acquaintance. They quickly changed their clothes, and +we all went to an inn and spent a merry evening together.</p> + + +<h4><i>II.--In Male Attire</i></h4> + + +<p>A few days afterwards I took up the plan which I had formed at Burgos, +and bravely set out for Madrid in the hope of making my fortune there. But +my money did not last long, for on reaching the capital I fell in with a +wild company of fashionable actors and actresses.</p> + +<p>As my purse grew lighter my conscience became tenderer, and at length I +humbly accepted the position of lackey in the house of a rich old nobleman, +Don Vincent de Guzman. He was a widower, with an only child, Aurora--a +lovely, gay, and accomplished girl of twenty-six years of age.</p> + +<p>I had hardly been with him a month when he died, leaving his daughter +mistress of all his wealth, and free to do what she liked with it. To my +surprise, Aurora then began to distinguish me from all the other servants. +I could see by the way she looked at me that there was something about me +that attracted her. Great ladies, I knew, sometimes fall in love with their +lackeys, and one evening my hopes were raised to the highest pitch; for +Aurora's maid then whispered to me that somebody would like to talk to me +alone at midnight in the garden. Full of wild impatience, I arrived at the +spot two hours before the time. Oh, those two hours! They seemed two +eternities.</p> + +<p>At midnight Aurora appeared, and I threw myself at her feet, exclaiming, +"Oh, my dear lady! Even in my wildest dreams of love I never thought of +such happiness as this!"</p> + +<p>"Don't talk so loud!" said Aurora, stepping back and laughing. "You will +rouse all the household. So you thought I was in love with you? My dear +boy, I am in love with somebody else. Knowing how clever and ingenious you +are, I want you to come at once with me to Salamanca and help me to win my +love."</p> + +<p>Naturally, I was much disconcerted by this strange turn of affairs. +However, I managed to recover myself and listen to my mistress. She had +fallen in love with a gallant young nobleman, Don Luis Pacheco, who was +unaware of the passion he inspired. He was going the next day to Salamanca +to study at the university, and Aurora had resolved to go there also, +dressed as a young nobleman, and make his acquaintance. She had fallen in +love with him at sight, and had never found an opportunity to speak to +him.</p> + +<p>"I shall get two sets of rooms in different parts of the town," she said +to me. "In one I shall live as Aurora de Guzman, with my maid, who must +play the part of an aunt. In the other, I shall be Don Felix de Mendoc, a +gallant cavalier, and you must be my valet."</p> + +<p>We set off for Salamanca at daybreak, and arrived before Don Luis. +Aurora took a furnished mansion in the fashionable quarter, and I called at +the principal inns, and found the one where Don Luis had arranged to stay, +Aurora then hid her pretty brown tresses under a wig, and put on a dashing +cavalier's costume, and came and engaged a room at the place where her +lover was.</p> + +<p>"So you have come to study at the university, sir?" said the innkeeper. +"How lucky! Another gallant young nobleman has just taken a room here for +the same purpose. You will be able to dine together and entertain one +another."</p> + +<p>He introduced his two guests, and they quickly became fast friends.</p> + +<p>"Do you know, Don Felix, you're uncommonly good-looking," said Don Luis, +as they sat talking over the wine. "Between us we shall set on fire the +hearts of the pretty girls of Salamanca."</p> + +<p>"There's really a lovely girl staying in the town," said my mistress. +"She's a cousin of mine, Aurora de Guzman. We are said to resemble each +other in a remarkable way."</p> + +<p>"Then she must be a beautiful creature," said Don Luis, "for you have +fine, regular features and an admirable colour. When can I see this +paragon?"</p> + +<p>"This afternoon, if you like," said my mistress.</p> + +<p>They went together to the mansion, where the maid received them, dressed +as an elderly noblewoman.</p> + +<p>"I'm very sorry, Don Felix," said the maid, "but my niece has a bad +headache, and she has gone to lie down."</p> + +<p>"Very well," said the pretended cousin. "I will just introduce my +friend, Don Luis, to you. Tell Aurora we will call to-morrow morning."</p> + +<p>Don Luis was much interested in the lovely girl whom he had not been +able to see. He talked about her to his companion late into the night. The +next day, as they were about to set out to visit her, I rushed in, as +arranged, with a note for my mistress.</p> + +<p>"What a nuisance!" she said. "Here is some urgent business I must at +once attend to. Don Luis, just run round and tell my cousin that I cannot +come until this afternoon!"</p> + +<p>Don Luis retired to put some final touches to his dress, and my mistress +hurried off with me to her mansion, and there, with the help of her maid, +she quickly got into her proper clothes. She received Don Luis very kindly, +and they talked together for quite two hours. Don Luis then went away, and +Aurora slipped into her cavalier's costume and met him at the inn.</p> + +<p>"My dear Felix," said Don Luis, "your cousin is an adorable lady. I'm +madly in love with her. If I can only win her, I'll marry and settle down +on my estates."</p> + +<p>Aurora gazed at him very tenderly, and then, with a gay laugh, she shook +off her wig and let her curls fall about her shoulders.</p> + +<p>Don Felix knelt at her feet and kissed her hands, crying, "Oh, my +beautiful Aurora! Do you really care for me? How happy we shall be +together!"</p> + +<p>The two lovers resolved to return at once to Madrid, and make +preparations for the wedding. At the end of a fortnight my mistress was +married, and I again set out on my travels with a well-lined purse.</p> + + +<h4><i>III.--Old Acquaintances</i></h4> + + +<p>I had always had a particular desire to see the famous town of Toledo. I +arrived there in three days, and lodged at a good inn, where, by reason of +my fine dress, I passed for a gentleman of importance. But I soon +discovered that Toledo was one of those places in which it is easier to +spend money than to gain it.</p> + +<p>So I set out for Aragon. On the road I fell in with a young cavalier +going in the same direction. He was a man of a frank and pleasant +disposition, and we soon got on a friendly footing. His name, I learned, +was Don Alfonso; he was, like me, seeking for means of livelihood.</p> + +<p>It came on to rain very heavily as we were skirting the base of a +mountain, and, in looking about for some place of shelter, we found a cave +in which an aged, white-haired hermit was living. At first he was not +pleased to see us, but something about me seemed to strike him favourably, +and he then gave us a kind welcome. We tied our horses to a tree, and +prepared to stay the night. The hermit began to talk to us in a very pious +and edifying way, when another aged anchorite ran into the cave, and said, +"It is all over; we're discovered. The police are after us!"</p> + +<p>The first hermit tore off his white beard and his hair, and took off his +long robe, showing a doublet beneath; and his companion followed his +example. In a few moments they were changed into a couple of young men +whose faces I recognised.</p> + +<p>"Raphael! Lamela! What mischief are you working now? And where are my +thousand ducats, you rascals?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, Gil Blas, I knew you at once!" said Raphael blandly. "One comes on +old acquaintances when one least expects them. I know we treated you badly. +But the money's gone, and can't be recovered. Come with us, and we will +soon make up to you all that you have lost."</p> + +<p>It was certainly unwise to remain in a cave which the police were about +to visit, and, as the rain had ceased and the night had fallen, we all set +out in the darkness to find some better shelter. We took the road to +Requena, and came to a forest, where we saw a light shining in the +distance. Don Alfonso crept up to the spot, and saw four men sitting round +a fire, eating and quarrelling. It was easy to see what they were +quarrelling about. An old gentleman and a lovely young girl were bound to a +tree close by, and by the tree stood a fine carriage.</p> + +<p>"They are brigands," said Alfonso, when he returned, "who have captured +a nobleman and his daughter, I think. Let us attack them. In order, no +doubt, to prevent their quarrelling turning into a deadly affray, they have +piled all their arms in a heap some yards away from the fire. So they +cannot make much of a fight."</p> + +<p>And they did not. We quietly surrounded them, and shot them down before +they were able to move. Don Alfonso and I then set free the captives, while +Raphael and Lamela rifled the pockets of the dead robbers.</p> + +<p>"I am the Count of Polan, and this is my daughter Seraphina," said the +old gentleman. "If you will help me to get my carriage ready, I will drive +back to an inn which we passed before entering the forest."</p> + +<p>When we came to the inn, the count begged us all to stay with him. +Raphael and Lamela, however, were afraid that the police would track them +out; Don Alfonso, who had been talking very earnestly to Seraphina, was, +for some strange reason, also unwilling to remain; so I fell in with their +views.</p> + +<p>"Why didn't you stay?" I said to Don Alfonso.</p> + +<p>"I was afraid the count would recognise me, as Seraphina has done," he +said. "I killed his son in a duel, just when I was trying to win +Seraphina's love. Heaven grant that the service I have now rendered will +make him inclined to forgive me."</p> + +<p>The day was breaking when we reached the mountains around Requena. There +we hid till nightfall, and then we made our way in the darkness to the town +of Xeloa. We found a quiet, shady retreat beside a woodland stream, and +there we stayed, while Lamela went into the town to buy provisions. He did +not return until evening. He brought back some extraordinary things.</p> + +<p>He opened a great bundle containing a long black mantle and robe, +another costume, a roll of parchment, a quill, and a great seal in green +wax.</p> + +<p>"Do you remember the trick you played on Camilla?" he said to me. "I +have a better scheme than that. Listen. As I was buying some provisions at +a cook-shop, a man entered in a great rage and began abusing a certain +Samuel Simon, a converted Jew and a cruel usurer. He had ruined many +merchants at Xeloa, and all the towns-people would like to see him ruined +in turn. Then, my dear Gil Blas, I remembered your clever trick, and +brought these clothes so that we might visit this Jew dressed up as the +officers of the Inquisition."</p> + +<p>After we had made a good meal, Lamela put on the robe and mantle of the +Inquisitor, Raphael the costume of the registrar, and I took the part of a +sergeant of the police. We walked very solemnly to the house of the usurer; +Simon opened the door himself, and started back in affright.</p> + +<p>"Master Simon," said Lamela, in a grave imperative tone of voice, "I +command you, on behalf of the Holy Inquisition, to deliver to these +officers the key of your cabinet. I must have your private papers closely +examined. Serious charges of heresy have been brought against you."</p> + +<p>The usurer grew pale with fear. Far from doubting any deceit on our +part, he imagined that some of his enemies had informed the Holy Office +against him. He obeyed without the least resistance, and opened his +cabinet.</p> + +<p>"I am glad to see," said Lamela, "that you do not rebel against the +orders of the Holy Inquisition. Retire now to another room, and let me +carry out the examination without interference."</p> + +<p>Simon withdrew into a farther room, and Lamela and Raphael quickly +searched in the cabinet for the strongbox. It was unlocked, being so full +of money that it could not be closed. We filled all our pockets; then our +hose; and then stuffed the coins in any place in our clothes that would +hold them. After this, we closed the cabinet, and our pretended Inquisitor +sealed it down with a great seal of green wax, and said very solemnly to +the usurer, "Master Simon, I have sealed your cabinet with the seal of the +Holy Office. Let me find it untouched when I return to-morrow morning to +inform you of the decision arrived at in your case."</p> + +<p>The next morning we were a good many leagues from Xeloa. At breakfast, +we counted over the money which we had taken from Simon. It came to three +thousand ducats, of which we each took a fourth part. Raphael and Lamela +then desired to carry out a similar plot against someone in the next town; +but Don Alfonso and I would not agree to take any part in the affair, and +set out for Toledo. There, Don Alfonso was reconciled to the Count of +Polan, and soon afterwards he and Seraphina were happily married.</p> + +<p>I retired to Lirias, a pleasant estate that Don Alfonso gave me, and +there I married happily, and grew old among my children. In the reign of +Philip IV., I went to the court, and served under the great minister, +Olivarez. But I have now returned to Lirias, and I do not intend to go to +Madrid again.</p> + +<hr /> + + + + +<h2><a name="CHARLES_LEVER"></a>CHARLES LEVER</h2> + + +<h3><a name="Charles_OMalley"></a>Charles O'Malley</h3> + + +<blockquote> The author of "Charles O'Malley," perhaps the most typical of +Irish novelists, was of English descent on his father's side. But Charles +James Lever himself was Irish by birth, being born at Dublin on August 31, +1806--Irish in sentiment and distinctly Irish in temperament. In geniality +and extravagance he bore much resemblance to the gay, riotous spirits he +has immortalised in his books. "Of all the men I have ever encountered," +says Trollope, "he was the surest fund of drollery." Lever was intended for +medicine; but financial difficulties forced him to return to literature. +His first story was "Harry Lorrequer," published in 1837. It was followed +in 1840 by "Charles O'Malley, the Irish Dragoon," which established his +reputation as one of the first humorists of his day. The story is the most +popular of all Lever's works, and in many respects the most characteristic. +The narrative is told with great vigour, and the delineation of character +is at once subtle and life-like. Lever died on June 1, 1872. </blockquote> + + +<h4><i>I.--O'Malley of O'Malley Castle</i></h4> + + +<p>It was in O'Malley Castle, a very ruinous pile of incongruous masonry +that stood in a wild and dreary part of Galway, that I passed my infancy +and youth. When a mere child I was left an orphan to the care of my worthy +uncle. My father, whose extravagance had well sustained the family +reputation, had squandered a large and handsome property in contesting +elections for his native county, and in keeping up that system of unlimited +hospitality for which Ireland in general, and Galway more especially, was +renowned. The result was, as might be expected, ruin and beggary. When he +died the only legacy he left to his brother was a boy of four years of age, +entreating him, with his last breath, "Be anything you like to him, +Godfrey, but a father--or, at least, such a one as I have proved."</p> + +<p>Godfrey O'Malley sometime previous had lost his wife, and when this new +trust was committed to him he resolved never to re-marry, but to rear me as +his own child.</p> + +<p>From my earliest years his whole anxiety was to fit me for the part of a +country gentleman, as he regarded that character--<i>viz.</i>, I rode +boldly with the fox-hounds; I was about the best shot within twenty miles; +I could swim the Shannon at Holy Island; I drove four-in-hand better than +the coachman himself; and from finding a hare to hooking a salmon my equal +could not be found from Killaloe to Banagher. These were the staple of my +endowments; besides which, the parish priest had taught me a little Latin, +a little French, and a little geometry.</p> + +<p>When I add to this portraiture of my accomplishments that I was nearly +six feet high, with more than a common share of activity and strength for +my years, and no inconsiderable portion of good looks, I have finished my +sketch, and stand before my reader.</p> + +<p>We were in the thick of canvassing the county for the parliamentary seat +in my uncle's interest. O'Malley Castle was the centre of operations; while +I, a mere stripling, and usually treated as a boy, was entrusted with an +important mission, and sent off to canvass a distant relation, Mr. Matthew +Blake, who might possibly be approachable by a younger branch of the +family, with whom he had never any collision.</p> + +<p>I arrived at his house while the company were breakfasting. After the +usual shaking of hands and hearty greetings were over, I was introduced to +Sir George Dashwood, a tall and singularly handsome man of about fifty, and +his daughter, Lucy Dashwood.</p> + +<p>If the sweetest blue eyes that ever beamed beneath a forehead of snowy +whiteness, over which dark brown and waving hair fell, less in curls than +masses of locky richness, could only have known what wild work they were +making of my poor heart, Miss Dashwood, I trust, would have looked at her +teacup or her muffin rather than at me, as she actually did, on that fatal +morning.</p> + +<p>Beside her sat a tall, handsome man of about five-and-thirty, or perhaps +forty, years of age, with a most soldierly air, who, as I was presented to +him, scarcely turned his head, and gave me a half-nod of unequivocal +coldness. As I turned from the lovely girl, who had received me with marked +courtesy, to the cold air and repelling hauteur of the dark-browed captain, +the blood rushed throbbing to my forehead; and as I walked to my place at +the table, I eagerly sought his eye, to return him a look of defiance and +disdain, proud and contemptuous as his own.</p> + +<p>Captain Hammersly, however, never took further notice of me, and I +formed a bitter resolution, which I endeavoured to carry into effect during +the next day's hunt. Mounted on my best horse, I deliberately led him +across the worst and roughest country, river, and hills, and walls, and +ditches, till I finished up with a broken head and he with a broken arm, +and a horse that had to be slaughtered.</p> + +<p>On the fourth day after this adventure I was able to enter the +drawing-room again. Sir George Dashwood made the kindest inquiries about my +health.</p> + +<p>"They tell me you are to be a lawyer, Mr. O'Malley," said he; "and, if +so, I must advise you to take better care of your headpiece."</p> + +<p>"A lawyer, papa? Oh, dear me!" said his daughter. "I should never have +thought of his being anything so stupid."</p> + +<p>"Why, silly girl, what would you have a man to be?"</p> + +<p>"A dragoon, to be sure, papa," said the fond girl, as she pressed her +arm around him, and looked up in his face with an expression of mingled +pride and affection.</p> + +<p>That word sealed my destiny.</p> + + +<h4><i>II.--I Join the Dragoons</i></h4> + + +<p>I had been at Mr. Blake's house five days before I recollected my +uncle's interests; but with one hole in my head and some half-dozen in my +heart my memory was none of the best. But that night at dinner I +discovered, to my savage amazement, that Mr. Blake and all the company were +there in the interest of the opposition candidate, and that Sir George +Dashwood was their candidate. In my excitement I hurled my wineglass at the +head of one of the company who expressed himself in regard to my uncle in a +manner insulting to a degree. In the duel which followed I shot my +opponent.</p> + +<p>I had sprung into man's estate. In three short days I had fallen deeply, +desperately, in love, and had wounded, if not killed, an antagonist in a +duel. As I meditated on these things I was aroused by the noise of horses' +feet. I opened the window, and beheld no less a person than Captain +Hammersly. I begged of him to alight and come in.</p> + +<p>"I thank you very much," he said; "but, in fact, my hours are now +numbered here. I have just received an order to join my regiment. I could +not, however, leave the country without shaking hands with you. I owe you a +lesson in horsemanship, and I'm only sorry that we are not to have another +day together. I'm sorry you are not coming with us."</p> + +<p>"Would to heaven I were!" said I, with an earnestness that almost made +my brain start.</p> + +<p>"Then why not?"</p> + +<p>"Unfortunately, my worthy uncle, who is all to me in this world, would +be quite alone if I were to leave him; and, although he has never said so, +I know he dreads the possibility of my suggesting such a thing."</p> + +<p>"Devilish hard; but I believe you are right. Something, however, may +turn up yet to alter his mind. And so good-bye, O'Malley, good-bye."</p> + +<p>During the contest for the seat--which was frankly fought in pitched +battles and scrimmages, and by corruption and perjury--I managed to save +Miss Dashwood's life. When polling-time came, Sir George found the feeling +against him was so strong, and we were so successful in beating his voters +out of the town, in spite of police and soldiers, that he resigned his +candidature.</p> + +<p>Afterwards I spent some time in Dublin, nominally in preparation for the +law, at Trinity College. But my college career convinced my uncle that my +forte did not lie in the classics, and Sir George succeeded in inducing him +to yield to my wishes, and interested himself so strongly for me that I +obtained a cornetcy in the 14th Light Dragoons a week before the regiment +sailed for Portugal. On the morning of my last day in Dublin I met Miss +Dashwood riding in the park. For some minutes I could scarcely speak. At +last I plucked up courage a little, and said, "Miss Dashwood, I have wished +most anxiously, before I parted for ever with those to whom I owe already +so much, that I should, at least, speak my gratitude."</p> + +<p>"But when do you think of going?"</p> + +<p>"To-morrow. Captain Power, under whose command I am, has received orders +to embark immediately for Portugal."</p> + +<p>I thought--perhaps it was but a thought--that her cheek grew somewhat +paler as I spoke; but she remained silent.</p> + +<p>Fixing my eyes full upon her I spoke.</p> + +<p>"Lucy, I feel I must confess it, cost what it may--I love you. I know +the fruitlessness, the utter despair, that awaits such a sentiment. My own +heart tells me that I am not, cannot be, loved in return. I ask for +nothing; I hope for nothing. I see that you at least pity me. Nay, one word +more. Do not, when time and distance have separated us, think that the +expressions I now use are prompted by a mere sudden ebullition of boyish +feeling; for I swear to you that my love to you is the source and spring of +every action in my life, and, when I cease to love you, I shall cease to +feel. And now, farewell; farewell for ever."</p> + +<p>I pressed her hand to my lips, gave one long, last look, turned my horse +rapidly away, and, ere a minute, was out of sight.</p> + + +<h4><i>III.--I Smell Gunpowder</i></h4> + + +<p>What a contrast to the dull monotony of our life at sea did the scene +present which awaited us on landing at Lisbon! The whole quay was crowded +with hundreds of people, eagerly watching the vessel which bore from her +mast the broad ensign of Britain.</p> + +<p>The din and clamour of a mighty city mingled with the far-off sounds of +military music; and, in the vistas of the opening streets, masses of troops +might be seen, in marching order. All betokened the near approach of +war.</p> + +<p>On the morning after we landed, Power rode off with dispatches to +headquarters, leaving me to execute two commissions with which he had been +entrusted--a packet for Hammersly from Miss Dashwood and an epistle from a +love-sick midshipman who could not get on shore, to the Senhora Inez da +Silviero. I took up the packet for Hammersly with a heavy heart. Alas! +thought I, how fatally may my life be influenced by it!</p> + +<p>The loud call of a cavalry trumpet roused me, and I passed out into the +street for the morning's inspection. The next day I delivered the packet to +the Senhora Inez, by whom I was warmly received--rather more on my own +account than on that of the little midshipman, I fancied. Certainly I never +beheld a being more lovely, and I found myself paying her some attentions. +Yet she was nothing to me. It is true, she had, as she most candidly +informed me, a score of admirers, among whom I was not even reckoned; she +was evidently a coquette. On May 7, 1809, we set off for Oporto. The 14th +were detailed to guard the pass to the Douro until the reinforcements were +up, and then I saw my first engagement. Never till now, as we rode to the +charge, did I know how far the excitement reaches when, man to man, sabre +to sabre, we ride forward to the battlefield. On we went, the loud shout of +"Forward!" still ringing in our ears. One broken, irregular discharge from +the French guns shook the head of our advancing column, but stayed us not +as we galloped madly on.</p> + +<p>I remember no more. The din, the smoke, the crash--the cry for quarter, +mingled with the shout of victory, the flying enemy--are all commingled in +my mind, but leave no trace of clearness or connection between them; and it +was only when the column wheeled to re-form that I awoke from my trance of +maddening excitement, and perceived that we had carried the position and +cut off the guns of the enemy.</p> + +<p>The scene was now beyond anything, maddening in its interest. From the +walls of Oporto the English infantry poured forth in pursuit; while the +whole river was covered with boats, as they still continued to cross over. +The artillery thundered from the Sierra, to protect the landing, for it was +even still contested in places; and the cavalry, charging in flank, swept +the broken ranks and bore down their squares. Then a final impetuous charge +carried the day.</p> + +<p>From that fight I got my lieutenancy, and then was sent off by Sir +Arthur Wellesley on special duty to the Lusitanian Legion in Alcantara--a +flattering position opened to my enterprise. Before I set out, I was able +to deliver Miss Dashwood's packet to Captain Hammersly, barely recovered +from a sabre wound. His agitation and his manner in receiving it puzzled me +greatly, though my own agitation was scarcely less.</p> + +<p>When I returned after a month with the Legion, during which my services +were of no very distinguished character, I found a letter from Galway which +saddened my thoughts greatly. A lawsuit had gone against my uncle, and what +I had long foreseen was gradually accomplishing--the wreck of an old and +honoured house. And I could only look on and watch the progress of our +downfall without power to arrest it.</p> + + +<h4><i>IV.--Shipwrecked Hopes</i></h4> + + +<p>Having been sent to the rear with dispatches, I did not reach Talavera +till two days' hard fighting had left the contending armies without decided +advantage on either side.</p> + +<p>I had scarcely joined my regiment before the 14th were ordered to +charge.</p> + +<p>We came on at a trot. The smoke of the cannonade obscured everything +until we had advanced some distance, but suddenly the splendid panorama of +the battlefield broke upon us.</p> + +<p>"Charge! Forward!" cried the hoarse voice of our colonel; and we were +upon them. The French infantry, already broken by the withering musketry of +our people, gave way before us, and, unable to form a square, retired +fighting, but in confusion and with tremendous loss, to their position. One +glorious cheer from left to right of our line proclaimed the victory, while +a deafening discharge of artillery from the French replied to this +defiance, and the battle was over.</p> + +<p>For several months after the battle of Talavera my life presented +nothing which I feel worth recording. Our good fortune seemed to have +deserted us when our hopes were highest; for from the day of that splendid +victory we began our retrograde movement upon Portugal. Pressed hard by +overwhelming masses of the enemy, we saw the fortresses of Ciudad Rodrigo +and Almeida fall successively into their hands, and retired, mystified and +disappointed, to Torres Vedras.</p> + +<p>Wounded in a somewhat scatter-brain night expedition to the lines of +Ciudad Rodrigo, my campaigning--for some time, at least--was concluded; for +my wound began to menace the loss of my arm, and I was ordered back to +Lisbon. Fred Power was the first man I saw, and almost the first thing he +told me was that Sir George Dashwood was in Lisbon, and that his daughter +was with him. And then, with conflicting feelings, I found that all Lisbon +mentioned my name in connection with the senhora, and Sir George himself, +in appointing me an aide-de-camp, threw increased gloom over my thoughts by +referring to the report Power had spoken of. My torment was completed by +meeting Miss Dashwood in the Senhora Inez's house under circumstances which +led to treat me with stiff, formal courtesy.</p> + +<p>The next night a letter from a Dublin friend reached me which told me +that "Hammersly had got his <i>congé</i>."</p> + +<p>Here, then, was the solution of the whole chaos of mystery; here the +full explanation of what had puzzled my aching brain for many a night long. +His own were the letters I had delivered into Hammersly's hands. A flood of +light poured at once across all the dark passages of my history; and Lucy, +too--dare I think of her? What if she had really cared for me! Oh, the +bitter agony of that thought! To think that all my hopes were shipwrecked +with the very land in sight.</p> + +<p>I sprang to my feet with some sudden impulse, but, as I did so, the +blood rushed madly to my head, and I fell. My arm was again broken, and ere +day I was delirious.</p> + +<p>Hours, days, weeks rolled over, and when I returned to consciousness and +convalescence I found I had been removed to the senhora's villa, and to her +I owed, in a large part, my recovery. I was deeper in my dilemma than ever. +Nevertheless, before I returned to the front, I found an opportunity to +vindicate to Lucy my unshaken faith, reconciling the conflicting evidences +with the proofs I proffered of my attachment. We were interrupted before I +could learn how my protestations were received. Power, I found soon after, +was the one favoured by the fair Inez's affections.</p> + + +<h4><i>V.--A Desolate Hearth</i></h4> + + +<p>It is not my intention, were I even adequate to the task, to trace with +anything like accuracy the events of the war at this period. In fact, to +those who, like myself, were performing duties of a mere subaltern +character, the daily movements of our own troops, not to speak of the +continual changes of the enemy, were perfectly unknown, and an English +newspaper was more ardently longed for in the Peninsula than by the most +eager crowd of a London coffee-room.</p> + +<p>So I pass over the details of the retreat of the French, and the great +battle of Fuentes D'Oñoro. In the storming of Ciudad Rodrigo, that death +struggle of vengeance and despair, I gained some notoriety in leading a +party of stormers through a broken embrasure, and found myself under Lord +Wellington's displeasure for having left my duties as aide-de-camp. +However, the exploit gained me leave to return to England, and the +additional honour of carrying dispatches to the Prince Regent.</p> + +<p>When I arrived in London with the glorious news of the capture of Ciudad +Rodrigo, the kind and gracious notice of the prince obtained me attentions +on all sides. Indeed, so flattering was the reception I met with, and so +overwhelming the civility showered on me, that it required no small effort +on my part not to believe myself as much a hero as they would make me. An +eternal round of dinners, balls, and entertainments filled up an entire +week.</p> + +<p>At last I obtained the Prince Regent's permission to leave London, and a +few mornings after landed in Cork. Hastening my journey, I was walking the +last eight miles--my chaise having broken down--when suddenly my attention +was caught by a sound which, faint from the distance, scarce struck upon my +ear. Thinking it probably some delusion of my heated imagination, I rose to +push forward; but at the moment a slight breeze stirred, and a low, moaning +sound swelled upward, increasing each instant as it came. It grew louder as +the wind bore it towards me, and now falling, now swelling, it burst forth +into one loud, prolonged cry of agony and grief. O God, it was the +death-wail!</p> + +<p>My suspense became too great to bear; I dashed madly forward. As I +neared the house, the whole approach was crowded with carriages and +horsemen. At the foot of the large flight of steps stood the black and +mournful hearse, its plumes nodding in the breeze, and, as the sounds +without sank into sobs of bitterness and woe, the black pall of a coffin, +borne on men's shoulders, appeared at the door, and an old man, a life-long +friend of my uncle, across whose features a struggle for self-mastery was +playing, held out his hand to enforce silence. I sprang toward him, choked +by agony. He threw his arms around me, and muttering the words, "Poor +Godfrey!" pointed to the coffin.</p> + +<p>Mine was a desolate hearth. In respect to my uncle's last wishes, I sold +out of the army and settled down to a quieter life than the clang of +battle, the ardour of the march. Gradually new impressions and new duties +succeeded; and, ere four months elapsed, the quiet monotony of my daily +life healed up the wounds of my suffering, and a sense of content, if not +of happiness, crept gently over me, and I ceased to long for the clash of +arms and the loud blast of the trumpet.</p> + +<p>But three years later a regiment of infantry marching to Cork for +embarkation for the Continent after Bonaparte's return from Elba, roused +all the eagerness of my old desires, and I volunteered for service +again.</p> + +<p>A few days after I was in Brussels, and attending that most memorable +and most exciting entertainment, the Duchess of Richmond's ball, on the +night of June 15, 1815. Lucy Dashwood was there, beautiful beyond anything +I had ever seen her. When the word came of the advance of Napoleon I was +sent off with the major-general's orders, and then joined the night march +to Quatre Bras. There I fell into the hands of a French troop and missed +the fighting, though I saw Napoleon himself, and had the good fortune to +effect the escape of Sir George Dashwood, who lay a prisoner under sentence +of death in the same place as myself. Early in the day of Waterloo I +contrived my own escape, and was able to give Lord Wellington much +information as to the French movements.</p> + +<p>After the battle I wandered back into Brussels and learned that we had +gained the day. As I came into the city Sir George met me and took me into +his hotel, where were Power and the senhora, about to be married. Wounded +by the innocent raillery of my friends, I escaped into an empty room and +buried my head in my hands. Oh, how often had the phantom of happiness +passed within my reach, but glided from my grasp!</p> + +<p>"Oh, Lucy, Lucy!" I exclaimed aloud. "But for you, and a few words +carelessly spoken, I had never trod the path of ambition whose end has been +the wreck of all my happiness! But for you I had never loved so fondly! But +for you, and I had never been--"</p> + +<p>"A soldier, you would say," whispered a soft voice as a light hand +gently touched my shoulder. "No, Mr. O'Malley; deeply grateful as I am to +you for the service you once rendered myself, bound as I am by every tie of +thankfulness by the greater one to my father, yet do I feel that in the +impulse I have given to your life I have done more to repay my debt to you +than by all the friendship, all the esteem I owe you. If, indeed, by any +means, you became a soldier, then I am indeed proud."</p> + +<p>"Alas! Lucy--Miss Dashwood, I would say--how has my career fulfilled the +promise that gave it birth? For you, and you only, to gain your affection, +I became a soldier. And now, and now----"</p> + +<p>"And now," said she, while her eyes beamed upon me with a very flood of +tenderness, "is it nothing that I have glowed with pride at triumphs I +could read of, but dared not share in? I have thought of you. I have +dreamed, I have prayed for you."</p> + +<p>"Alas! Lucy, but not loved me."</p> + +<p>Her hand, which had fallen upon mine, trembled violently. I pressed my +lips upon it, but she moved it not. I dared to look up; her head was turned +away, but her heaving bosom betrayed emotion.</p> + +<p>Our eyes met--I cannot say what it was--but in a moment the whole +current of my thoughts was changed. Her look was bent upon me, beaming with +softness and affection; her hand gently pressed my own, and her lips +murmured my name.</p> + +<p>The door burst open at this moment, and Sir George Dashwood appeared. +Lucy turned one fleeting look upon her father, and fell fainting into my +arms.</p> + +<p>"God bless you, my boy!" said the old general as he hurriedly wiped a +tear from his eye. "I am now indeed a happy father."</p> + +<hr /> + + + + +<h3><a name="Tom_Burke_of_Ours"></a>Tom Burke of "Ours"</h3> + + +<blockquote> In 1840 Charles Lever, on an invitation from Sir John +Crompton, Secretary to the British Embassy in Belgium, forsook Ireland for +Brussels, where for a time he followed his profession of medicine. Two +years later an offer of the editorship of the "Dublin University Magazine" +recalled him to Ireland, when he definitely abandoned a medical career and +settled down to literature permanently. The first fruit of that appointment +was "Tom Burke of Ours," published, after running serially in the magazine, +in 1844. It is more serious in tone than any of his preceding works; in it +the author utilises the rich colouring gained from his long residence in +France, and the book is less remarkable for the complex, if vigorous, story +it contains than for its graphic and exciting pictures of men and events in +the campaigns of Napoleon Many of its episodes are conceived in the true +spirit of romance. </blockquote> + + +<h4><i>I.--The Boy Rebel</i></h4> + + +<p>"Be advised by me," said De Meudon earnestly; "do not embark with these +Irish rebels in their enterprise! They have none. Their only daring is some +deed of rapine and murder. No; liberty is not to be achieved by such bands +as these. France is your country--there liberty has been won; there lives +one great man whose notice, were it but passingly bestowed, is fame."</p> + +<p>He sank back exhausted. The energy of his speech was too great for his +weak and exhausted frame to bear. Captain de Meudon had come to Ireland in +1798 to aid in the rebellion; he had seen its failure, but had remained in +Ireland trying vainly to give to the disaffection some military +organization. He had realized the hopelessness of his efforts. He was ill, +and very near to death. Now I stood by his bedside in a little cottage in +Glenmalure.</p> + +<p>Boy as I was, I had already seen enough to make me a rebel in feeling +and in action. I had stood a short time before the death-bed of my father, +who disliked me, and who had left nearly all his property to my elder +brother, who was indifferent to me. My father had indentured me as +apprentice to his lawyer, and sooner than submit to the rule of this +man--the evil genius of our family--I had taken flight. The companion of my +wanderings was Darby M'Keown, the piper, the cleverest and cunningest of +the agents of rebellion. Then I had met De Meudon, who had turned my +thoughts and ambitions into another channel.</p> + +<p>My companion grew steadily worse.</p> + +<p>"Take my pocket-book," he whispered; "there is a letter you'll give my +sister Marie. There are some five or six thousand francs--they are yours; +you must be a pupil at the Polytechnique at Paris. If it should be your +fortune to speak with General Bonaparte, say to him that when Charles de +Meudon was dying--in exile--with but one friend left--he held his portrait +to his lips, and, with his last breath, he kissed it."</p> + +<p>A shivering ran through his limbs--a sigh--and all was still. He was +dead.</p> + +<p>"Halloa, there!" said a voice. The door opened, and a sergeant entered. +"I have a warrant to arrest Captain de Meudon, a French officer who is +concealed here. Where is he?"</p> + +<p>I pointed to the bed.</p> + +<p>"I arrest you in the king's name!" said the sergeant, approaching. +"What----" He started back in horror. "He is dead!"</p> + +<p>Then entered one I had seen before--Major Barton, the most pitiless of +the government's agents in suppressing insurrection.</p> + +<p>The sergeant whispered to him, and his eye ranged the little chamber +till it fell on me.</p> + +<p>"Ha!" he cried. "You here! Sergeant, here's one prisoner for you, at any +rate."</p> + +<p>Two soldiers seized me, and I was marched away towards Dublin. About +noon the party halted, and the soldiers lay down and chatted on a patch of +grass, while my own thoughts turned sadly back to the friend I had +known.</p> + +<p>Suddenly I heard a song sung by a voice I knew, and afterwards a loud +clapping of hands. Darby M'Keown was there in the midst of the soldiers, +and as I turned to look at him, my hand came in contact with a clasp-knife. +I managed with it to free my arms from the ropes that fastened them, but +what was to be done next?</p> + +<p>"I didn't think much of that song of yours," said one of the soldiers. +"Give us 'The British Grenadiers.'"</p> + +<p>"I never heard them play but onst, sir," said Darby, meekly, "and they +were in such a hurry I couldn't pick up the tune."</p> + +<p>"What d'you mean?"</p> + +<p>"'Twas the day but one after the French landed, and the British +Grenadiers was running away."</p> + +<p>The party sprang to their legs, and a shower of curses fell upon the +piper.</p> + +<p>"And sure," continued Darby, "'twasn't my fault av they took to their +heels. Wouldn't anyone run for his life av he had the opportunity?"</p> + +<p>These words were uttered in a raised voice, and I took the hint. While +Darby was scuffling with the soldiers, I slipped away.</p> + +<p>For miles I pressed forward without turning, and in the evening I found +myself in Dublin. The union with England was being debated in the +Parliament House; huge and angry crowds raged without. Remembering the +tactics De Meudon had taught me, I sought to organize the crowd in a kind +of military formation against the troops; but a knock on the head with a +musket-butt ended my labours, and I knew nothing more until I came to +myself in the quarters of an old chance acquaintance--Captain +Bubbleton.</p> + +<p>Here, in the house of this officer--an eccentric and impecunious man, +but a most loyal friend--I was discovered by Major Barton and dragged to +prison. I was released by the intervention of my father's lawyer, who +claimed me as his apprentice.</p> + +<p>For weeks I lived with Captain Bubbleton and his brother officers, and +nothing could be more cordial than their treatment of me. "Tom Burke of +'Ours,'" the captain used proudly to call me. Only one officer held aloof +from me, and from all Irishmen--Montague Crofts--through whom it came about +that I left Ireland.</p> + +<p>One day an uncouth and ragged woman entered the barracks, and addressed +me. It was Darby M'Keown, and he brought me nothing less precious than De +Meudon's pocket-book, which had been taken from me, and had been picked up +by him on the road. A few minutes later Bubbleton lost a sum at cards to +Crofts; knowing he could not pay, I passed a note quietly to him. When +Bubbleton had gone, Crofts held up the note before me. It was a French note +of De Meudon's! I demanded my property back. He refused, and threatened to +inform against me. On my seeking to prevent him from leaving the room, he +drew his sword, and wounded me; but in the nick of time a blow from a +strong arm laid him senseless--dead, perhaps--on the floor.</p> + +<p>"We must be far from this by daybreak," whispered Darby.</p> + +<p>I walked out of the barracks as steadily as I could. For all I knew, I +was implicated in murder--and Ireland was no place for me. In a few days I +stood on the shores of France.</p> + + +<h4><i>II.--A Blow for the Emperor</i></h4> + + +<p>By means of a letter of introduction to the head of the Polytechnique, +which De Meudon had placed for me in his pocket-book, I was able to enter +that military college, and, after a spell of earnest study, I was appointed +to a commission in the Eighth Hussars. Proud as I was to become a soldier +of France, yet I could not but feel that I was a foreigner, and almost +friendless--unlucky, indeed, in the choice of the few friends I possessed. +Chief of them was the Marquis de Beauvais, concerning whom I soon made two +discoveries--that he was in the thick of an intrigue against the republic I +served, and its First Consul, and that he was in love with Marie de Meudon, +my dead friend's sister.</p> + +<p>To her, as soon as an opportunity came, I gave the news of her brother's +end, and his last message. She was terribly affected; and the love we bore +in common to the dead, and her own wonderful beauty, aroused in me a +passion that was not the less fervent because I felt it was almost +hopeless. I did not dare to ask her love, but I had her friendship without +asking. She it was who warned me of the dangerous intrigues of De Beauvais +and his associates. She it was who, when I fell a victim to their +intrigues, laboured with General d'Auvergne, who had befriended me while I +was at college, to restore me to liberty.</p> + +<p>I had heard that De Beauvais and his fellow royalists were plotting in a +château near Versailles, and that a scheme was afoot to capture them. +In hot haste I rode to the château, hoping secretly to warn my +friend. He did indeed escape, but it was my lot to be caught with the +conspirators. For the second time in my short life I saw the inside of a +prison; I was in danger of the guillotine; despair had almost overpowered +me, when I learnt that my friends had prevailed--my sword was returned to +me. I became again an officer of the army of him who was now emperor, and I +set forth determined to wipe out on the battlefield the doubts that still +clung to my loyalty. Marie de Meudon was wedded, by the emperor's wish, to +the gallant and beloved soldier on whose staff I proudly served--General +d'Auvergne.</p> + +<p>In four vast columns of march, the mighty army poured into the heart of +Germany. But not until we reached Mannheim did we learn the object of the +war. We were to destroy the Austro-Russian coalition, and the first blow +was to be struck at Ulm. When Ulm had capitulated, General d'Auvergne and +his staff returned to Elchingen, and on the night when we reached the place +I was on the point of lying down supperless in the open air, when I met an +old acquaintance, Corporal Pioche, a giant cuirassier of the Guard, who had +fought in all Bonaparte's campaigns.</p> + +<p>"Ah, mon lieutenant," said he, "not supped yet, I'll wager. Come along +with me; Mademoiselle Minette has opened her canteen!"</p> + +<p>Presently we entered a large room, at one end of which sat a very pretty +Parisian brunette, who bade me a gracious welcome. The place was crowded +with captains and corporals, lieutenants and sergeants, all hobnobbing, +hand-shaking, and even kissing each other. "Each man brings what he can +find, drinks what he is able, and leaves the rest," remarked Pioche, and +invited me to take my share in the common stock.</p> + +<p>All went well until I absent-mindedly called out, as if to a waiter, for +bread. There was a roar of laughter at my mistake, and a little +dark-whiskered fellow stuck his sword into a loaf and handed it to me. As I +took the loaf, he disengaged his point, and scratched the back of my hand +with it. Obviously an insult was intended.</p> + +<p>"Ah, an accident, <i>morbleu</i>!" said he, with an impertinent +shrug.</p> + +<p>"So is this!" said I, as I seized his sword and smashed it across my +knee.</p> + +<p>"It's François, <i>maitre d'armes</i> of the Fourth," whispered +Pioche; "one of the cleverest duellists of the army."</p> + +<p>I was hurried out to the court, one adviser counselling me to beware of +François's lunge in tierce, another to close on him at once, and so +on. For a long time after we had crossed swords, I remained purely on the +defensive; at last, after a desperate rally, he made a lunge at my chest, +which I received in the muscles of my back; and, wheeling round, I buried +my blade in his body.</p> + +<p>François lingered for a long time between life and death, and for +several days I was incapacitated, tenderly nursed by Minette.</p> + +<p>As soon as I was recovered the order came to advance.</p> + +<p>Not many days passed ere the chance came to me for which I had +longed--the chance of striking a blow for the emperor. Hand-to-hand with +the Russian dragoons on the field of Austerlitz, sweeping along afterwards +with the imperial hosts in the full tide of victory, I learnt for the first +time the exhilaration of military glory; and I had the good fortune to +receive the emperor's favour--not only was I promoted, but I was appointed +to the <i>compagnie d'élite</i> that was to carry the spoils of +victory to Paris.</p> + +<p>A few weeks after my return to Paris, the whole garrison was placed in +review order to receive the wounded of Austerlitz.</p> + +<p>As the emperor rode forward bareheaded to greet his maimed veterans, I +heard laughter among the staff that surrounded him. Stepping up, I saw my +old friend Pioche, who had been dangerously wounded, with his hand in +salute.</p> + +<p>"Thou wilt not have promotion, nor a pension," said Napoleon, smiling. +"Hast any friend whom I could advance?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," answered Pioche, scratching his forehead in confusion. "She is a +brave girl, and had she been a man----"</p> + +<p>"Whom can he mean?"</p> + +<p>"I was talking of Minette, our <i>vivandière</i>."</p> + +<p>"Dost wish I should make her my aide-de-camp?" said Napoleon, +laughing.</p> + +<p>"<i>Parbleu</i>! Thou hast more ill-favoured ones among them," said +Pioche, with a glance at the grim faces of Rapp and Daru. "I've seen the +time when thou'd have said, 'Is it Minette that was wounded at the Adige +and stood in the square at Marengo? I'll give her the Cross of the +Legion!'"</p> + +<p>"And she shall have it!" said Napoleon. Minette advanced, and as the +emperor's own cross was attached to her buttonhole she sat pale as death, +overcome by her pride.</p> + +<p>For two hours waggon after waggon rolled on, filled with the shattered +remnants of an army. Every eye brightened as the emperor drew near, the +feeblest gazed with parted lips when he spoke, and the faint cry of +"<i>Vive l'Empéreur</i>" passed along the line.</p> + + +<h4><i>III.--Broken Dreams</i></h4> + + +<p>Ere I had left Paris to join in the campaign against Prussia, I had +made, and broken off, another dangerous friendship. In the <i>compagnie +d'élite</i> was an officer named Duchesne who took a liking to me--a +royalist at heart, and a cynic who was unfailing in his sneers at all the +doings of Napoleon. His attitude was detected, and he was forced to resign +his commission; and his slights upon the uniform I wore grew so unbearable +that I abandoned his company--little guessing the revenge he would take +upon me.</p> + +<p>Once more the Grand Army was set in motion, and the hosts of France +pressed upon Russia from the south and west. Napoleon turned the enemy's +right flank, and compelled him to retire and concentrate his troops around +Jena, which was plainly to be the scene of a great battle.</p> + +<p>My regiment was ordered on September 13, 1806, to proceed without delay +to the emperor's headquarters at Jena, and I was sent ahead to make +arrangements for quarters. In the darkness I lost my way, and came upon an +artillery battery stuck fast in a ravine, unable to move back or forwards. +The colonel was in despair, for the whole artillery of the division was +following him, and would inevitably be involved in the same mishap. Wild +shouting had been succeeded by a sullen silence, when a stern voice called +out: "Cannoniers, dismount; bring the torches to the front!"</p> + +<p>When the order was obeyed, the light of the firewood fell upon the +features of Napoleon himself. Instantly the work began afresh, directed by +the emperor with a blazing torch in his hand. Gradually the gun-carriages +were released, and began to move slowly along the ravine. Napoleon turned, +and rode off at full speed in the darkness towards Jena. It was my +destination, and I followed him.</p> + +<p>He preceded me by about fifty paces--the greatest monarch of the world, +alone, his thoughts bent on the great events before him. On the top of an +ascent the brilliant spectacle of a thousand watch-fires met the eye. +Napoleon, lost in meditation, saw nothing, and rode straight into the +lines. Twice the challenge "<i>Qui vive?"</i> rang out. Napoleon heard it +not. There was a bang of a musket, then another, and another. Napoleon +threw himself from his horse, and lay flat on the ground. I dashed up, +shouting, "The emperor! The emperor!" My horse was killed, and I was +wounded in the shoulder; but I repeated the cry until Napoleon stepped +calmly forward.</p> + +<p>"Ye are well upon the alert, <i>mes enfants</i>," he said, smiling. +Then, turning to me, he asked quickly, "Are you wounded?"</p> + +<p>"A mere scratch, sire."</p> + +<p>"Let the surgeon see to it, and do you come to headquarters when you are +able."</p> + +<p>In the morning I went to headquarters, but the emperor was busy; +seemingly I was forgotten. My regiment was out of reach, so, at the +invitation of my old duelling antagonist, François, I joined the +Voltigeurs. My friends could not understand why, after tasting the delights +of infantry fighting, I should wish to rejoin the hussars; but I went back +to my old regiment after the victory, and rode with it to Berlin.</p> + +<p>Soon after our arrival there I read my name in a general order among +those on whom the Cross of the Legion was to be conferred. On the morning +of the day when I was to receive the decoration, I was requested to attend +the bureau of the adjutant-general. There I was confronted with Marshal +Berthier, who held up a letter before me. I saw, by the handwriting, it was +Duchesne's.</p> + +<p>"There, sir, that letter belongs to you," he said. "There is enough in +it to make your conduct the matter of a court-martial; but I am satisfied +that a warning will be sufficient. I need hardly say that you will not +receive the Cross of the Legion."</p> + +<p>I glanced at the letter, and realised Duchesne's treachery. Knowing that +all doubtful letters were opened and read by the authorities, he had sent +me a letter bitterly attacking the emperor, and professing to regard me as +a royalist conspirator.</p> + +<p>Exasperated, I drew my sword.</p> + +<p>"I resign, sir," I said. "The career I can no longer follow honourably +and independently, I shall follow no more."</p> + +<p>With a half-broken heart and faltering step, I regained my quarters; the +whole dream of life was over. Broken in spirit, I made my way slowly back +through Germany to Paris, and back to Ireland.</p> + + +<h4><i>IV.--The Call of the Sword</i></h4> + + +<p>On reaching my native country I found that my brother had died, and that +I had inherited an income of £4,000 a year. I sought to forget the +past. But a time came when I could resist the temptation no longer, and the +first fact I read of was the burning of Moscow. As misfortune followed +misfortune, an impulse came to me that it was useless to resist. My heart +was among the glittering squadrons of France. I thought suddenly, was this +madness? And the thought was followed by a resolve as sudden. I wrote some +lines to my agent, saddled my horse, and rode away. At Verviers I offered +my sword to the emperor as an old officer, and went forward in charge of a +squadron to Brienne. This place was held by the Prussians, and Blücher +and his Prussians were near at hand. Once more I beheld the terrific +spectacle of an attack by the army of Napoleon. But alas! the attack was +vain; I heard the trumpet sound a retreat. And as I turned, I saw the body +of an aged general officer among a heap of slain. With a shriek of horror, +I recognized the friend of my heart, General d'Auvergne. Round his neck he +wore a locket with a portrait of his wife--Marie de Meudon. I detached the +locket, and bade the dead a last adieu.</p> + +<p>Why should I dwell on a career of disaster? Retreat followed retreat, +until the fate of Napoleon's empire depended on the capture of the bridge +of Montereau. Regiment after regiment strove to cross, only to be shattered +and mangled by the tremendous fire of the enemy. Four sappers at length +laid a petard beneath the gate at the other side of the bridge. But the +fuse went out.</p> + +<p>"This to the man who lights the fuse!" cried Napoleon, holding up his +great Cross of the Legion.</p> + +<p>I snatched a burning match from a gunner beside me, and rushed across +the bridge. Partly protected by the high projecting parapet, I lit the +fuse, and then fell, shot in the chest. My senses reeled; for a time I knew +nothing; then I felt a flask pressed to my lips. I looked up, and saw +Minette. "Dear, dear girl, what a brave heart is thine!" said I, as she +pressed her handkerchief to my wound.</p> + +<p>Her fingers became entangled in the ribbon of the general's locket that +I had tied round my neck, and by accident the locket opened. She became +deathly pale as she saw its contents; then, springing to her feet, she gave +me one glance--fleeting, but how full of sorrow!--and ran to the middle of +the bridge. The petard had done its work. She beckoned to the column to +come on; they answered with a cheer. Presently four grenadiers fell to the +rear, carrying between them the body of Minette.</p> + +<p>They gave her a military funeral; and I was told that a giant soldier, a +corporal it was thought, kneeled down to kiss her before she was covered +with the earth, then lay quietly down in the grass. When they sought to +move him, he was stone dead.</p> + +<p>When I had recovered from my wound, it was nothing to me that Napoleon, +besides giving me his Grand Cross, had made me general of brigade. For +Napoleon was no longer emperor, and I would not serve the king who +succeeded him. But ere I left France I saw Marie de Meudon, it might be, I +thought, for the last time. At the sight of her my old passion returned, +and I dared to utter it. I know not how incoherently the tale was told; I +can but remember the bursting feeling of my bosom, as she placed her hand +in mine, and said, "It is yours."</p> + +<hr /> + + + + +<h2><a name="MG_LEWIS"></a>M.G. LEWIS</h2> + + +<h3><a name="Ambrosio_or_the_Monk"></a>Ambrosio, or the Monk</h3> + + +<blockquote> There was a time--of no great duration--when Lewis' "Monk" was +the most popular book in England. At the end of the eighteenth century the +vogue of the "Gothic" romance of ghosts and mysteries was at its height; +and this work, written in ten weeks by a young man of nineteen, caught the +public fancy tremendously, and Matthew Gregory Lewis was straightway +accepted as an adept at making the flesh creep. Taste changes in horrors, +as in other things, and "Ambrosio, or The Monk," would give nightmares to +few modern readers. Its author, who was born in London on July 9, 1775, and +published "The Monk" in 1795, wrote many supernatural tales and poems, and +also several plays--one of which, "The Castle Spectre," caused the hair of +Drury Lane audiences to stand on end for sixty successive nights, a long +run in those days. Lewis, who was a wealthy man, sat for some years in +Parliament; he had many distinguished friends among men of letters--Scott +and Southey contributed largely to the first volume of his "Tales of +Wonder." He died on May 13, 1818. </blockquote> + + +<h4><i>I.--The Recluse</i></h4> + + +<p>The Church of the Capuchins in Madrid had never witnessed a more +numerous assembly than that which gathered to hear the sermon of Ambrosio, +the abbot. All Madrid rang with his praises. Brought mysteriously to the +abbey door while yet an infant, he had remained for all the thirty years of +his life within its precincts. All his days had been spent in seclusion, +study, and mortification of the flesh; his knowledge was profound, his +eloquence most persuasive; his only fault was an excess of severity in +judging the human feelings from which he himself was exempted.</p> + +<p>Among the crowd that pressed into the church were two women--one +elderly, the other young--who had seats offered them by two richly habited +cavaliers. The younger cavalier, Don Lorenzo, discovered such exquisite +beauty and sweetness in the maiden to whom he had given his seat--her name +was Antonia--that when she left the church he was desperately in love with +her.</p> + +<p>He had promised to see his sister Agnes, a nun in the Convent of St. +Clare; so he remained in the church, whither the nuns were presently to +come to confess to the Abbot Ambrosio. As he waited he observed a man +wrapped up in a cloak hurriedly place a letter beneath a statue of St. +Francis, and then retire.</p> + +<p>The nuns entered, and removed their veils out of respect to the saint to +whom the building was dedicated. One of the nuns dropped her rosary beside +the statue, and, as she stooped to pick it up, she dexterously removed the +letter and placed it in her bosom. As she did so, the light flashed full in +her face.</p> + +<p>"Agnes, by Heaven!" cried Lorenzo.</p> + +<p>He hastened after the cloaked stranger, and overtook him with drawn +sword. Suddenly the cloaked man turned and exclaimed, "Is it possible? +Lorenzo, have you forgotten Raymond de las Cisternas?"</p> + +<p>"You here, marquis?" said the astonished Lorenzo. "You engaged in a +clandestine correspondence with my sister?"</p> + +<p>"Her affections have ever been mine, and not the Church's. She entered +the convent tricked into a belief that I had been false to her; but I have +proved to her that it is otherwise. She had agreed to fly with me, and my +uncle, the cardinal, is securing for her a dispensation from her vows."</p> + +<p>Raymond told at length the story of his love, and at the end Lorenzo +said, "Raymond, there is no one on whom I would bestow Agnes more willingly +than on yourself. Pursue your design, and I will accompany you."</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, Agnes tremblingly advanced toward the abbot, and in her +nervousness let fall the precious letter. She turned to pick it up. The +abbot claimed and read it; it was the proposal of Agnes's escape with her +lover that very night.</p> + +<p>"This letter must to the prioress!" said he sternly.</p> + +<p>"Hold father, hold!" cried Agnes, flinging herself at his feet. "Be +merciful! Do not doom me to destruction!"</p> + +<p>"Hence, unworthy wretch! Where is the prioress?"</p> + +<p>The prioress, when she came, gazed upon Agnes with fury. "Away with her +to the convent!" she exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Raymond, save me, save me!" shrieked the distracted Agnes. Then, +casting upon the abbot a frantic look, "Hear me," she continued, "man of a +hard heart! Insolent in your yet unshaken virtue, your day of trial will +arrive. Think then upon your cruelty; and despair of pardon!"</p> + + +<h4><i>II.--The Abbot's Infatuation</i></h4> + + +<p>Leaving the church, Ambrosio bent his steps towards a grotto in the +abbey garden, formed in imitation of a hermitage. On reaching the grotto, +he found it already occupied. Extended upon one of the seats, lay a man in +a melancholy posture, lost in meditation. Ambrosio recognised him; it was +Rosario, his favourite novice, a youth of whose origin none knew anything, +save that his bearing, and such of his features as accident had +discovered--for he seemed fearful of being recognised, and was continually +muffled up in his cowl--proved him to be of noble birth.</p> + +<p>"You must not indulge this disposition to melancholy, Rosario," said +Ambrosio tenderly.</p> + +<p>The youth flung himself at Ambrosio's feet.</p> + +<p>"Oh, pity me!" he cried. "How willingly would I unveil to you my heart! +But I fear------"</p> + +<p>"How shall I reassure you? Reveal to me what afflicts you, and I swear +that your secret shall be safe in my keeping."</p> + +<p>"Father," said Rosario, in faltering accents, "I am a woman!"</p> + +<p>The abbot stood still for a moment in astonishment, then turned hastily +to go. But the suppliant clasped his knees.</p> + +<p>"Do not fly me!" she cried. "You are my beloved; but far is it from +Matilda's wish to draw you from the paths of virtue. All I ask is to see +you, to converse with you, to adore you!"</p> + +<p>Confusion and resentment mingled in Ambrosio's mind with secret pleasure +that a young and lovely woman had thus for his sake abandoned the world. +But he recognised the need for austerity.</p> + +<p>"Matilda," he said, "you must leave the abbey to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"Cruel, cruel!" she exclaimed, wringing her hands in agony. "Farewell, +my friend! And yet, methinks, I would fain bear with me some token of your +regard."</p> + +<p>"What shall I give you?"</p> + +<p>"Anything--one of those flowers will be sufficient."</p> + +<p>Ambrosio approached a bush, and stooped to pick one of the flowers. He +uttered a piercing cry, and Matilda rushed towards him.</p> + +<p>"A serpent," he said in a faint voice, "concealed among the roses."</p> + +<p>With loud shrieks the distressed Matilda summoned assistance. Ambrosio +was carried to the abbey, his wound was examined, and the surgeon +pronounced that there was no hope. He had been stung by a centipedoro, and +would not live three days.</p> + +<p>Mournfully the monks left the bedside, and Ambrosio was entrusted to the +care of the despairing Matilda. Next morning the surgeon was astonished to +find that the inflammation had subsided, and when he probed the wound no +traces of the venom were perceptible.</p> + +<p>"A miracle! A miracle!" cried the monks. Joyfully they proclaimed that +St. Francis had saved the life of their sainted abbot.</p> + +<p>But Ambrosio was still weak and languid, and again the monks left him in +Matilda's care. As he listened to an old ballad sung by her sweet voice, he +found renewed pleasure in her society, and was conscious of the influence +upon him of her beauty. For three days she nursed him, while he watched her +with increasing fondness. But on the next day she came not. A lay-brother +entered instead.</p> + +<p>"Hasten, reverend father," said he. "Young Rosario lies at the point of +death, and he earnestly requests to see you."</p> + +<p>In deep agitation he followed the lay-brother to Matilda's apartment. +Her face glowed at the sight of him. "Leave me, my brethren," she said to +the monks; much have I to tell this holy man in private."</p> + +<p>"Father, I am poisoned," she said, when they had gone, "but the poison +once circulated in your veins."</p> + +<p>"Matilda!"</p> + +<p>"I loosened the bandage from your arm; I drew out the poison with my +lips. I feel death at my heart."</p> + +<p>"And you have sacrificed yourself for me! Is there, indeed, no +hope?"</p> + +<p>"There is but one means of life in my power--a dangerous and dreadful +means; life would be purchased at too dear a rate--unless it were permitted +me to live for you."</p> + +<p>"Then live for me," cried the infatuated monk, clasping her in his arms. +"Live for me!"</p> + +<p>"Then," she cried joyfully, "no dangers shall appall me. Swear that you +will never inquire by what means I shall preserve myself, and procure for +me the key of the burying-ground common to us and the sisterhood of St. +Clare."</p> + +<p>When Ambrosio had obtained the key, Matilda left him. She returned +radiant with joy.</p> + +<p>"I have succeeded!" she cried. "I shall live, Ambrosio--shall live for +you!"</p> + + +<h4><i>III.--Unavailing Remorse</i></h4> + + +<p>Raymond and Lorenzo had gone to the rendezvous appointed in the letter, +and had waited to be joined by Agnes and to enable her to escape from the +convent.</p> + +<p>But Agnes had not come, and the two friends withdrew in deep +mortification. Presently arrived a message from Raymond's uncle, the +cardinal, enclosing the Pope's bull ordering that Agnes should be released +from her vows, and restored to her relatives. Lorenzo at once conveyed the +bull to the prioress.</p> + +<p>"It is out of my power to obey this order," said she, in a voice of +anger which she strove in vain to disguise. "Agnes is dead!"</p> + +<p>Lorenzo hastened with the fatal news to Raymond, whose terrible +affliction led to a dangerous illness.</p> + +<p>One morning, as Ambrosio was leaving the chapel after listening to many +penitents--he was the favourite confessor in Madrid--Antonia stepped +timidly up to him and begged him to visit her mother, who was stretched on +a bed of sickness. Charmed with her beauty and innocence, he consented.</p> + +<p>The monk retired to his cell, whither he was pursued by Antonia's image. +"What would be too dear a price," he meditated, "for this lovely girl's +affections?"</p> + +<p>Not once but often did Ambrosio visit Antonia and her mother; and each +time he saw the innocent girl his love increased. Matilda, who had first +opened his heart to love, saw the change, and penetrated his secret.</p> + +<p>"Since your love can no longer be mine," she said to him sadly, "I +request the next best gift--your confidence and friendship. You love +Antonia, but you love her despairingly. I come to point out the road to +success."</p> + +<p>"Oh, impossible!"</p> + +<p>"To those who dare, nothing is impossible. Listen! My guardian was a man +of uncommon knowledge, and from him I had training in the arts of magic. +One terrible power he gave me--the power of raising a demon. I shuddered at +the thought of employing it, until it became my only means of saving my +life--a life that you prized. For your sake I performed the mystic rites in +the sepulchre of St. Clare. For your sake I will perform them again."</p> + +<p>"No, no, Matilda!" cried the monk, "I will not ally myself with God's +enemy."</p> + +<p>"Look!" Matilda held before him a mirror of polished steel, its borders +marked with various strange characters. A mist spread over the surface; it +cleared, and Ambrosio gazed upon the countenance of Antonia in all its +beauty.</p> + +<p>"I yield!" he cried passionately. "Matilda, I follow you!"</p> + +<p>They passed into the churchyard; they reached the entry to the vaults; +Ambrosio tremblingly followed Matilda down the staircase. They went through +narrow passages strewn with skulls and bones, and reached a spacious +cavern. Matilda drew a circle around herself, and another around him; +bending low, she muttered a few indistinct sentences, and a thin, blue, +sulphurous flame arose from the ground.</p> + +<p>Suddenly she uttered a piercing shriek, and plunged a poniard into her +left arm; the blood poured down, a dark cloud arose, and a clap of thunder +was heard. Then a full strain of melodious music sounded and the demon +stood before them.</p> + +<p>He was a youth of perfect face and form. Crimson wings extended from his +shoulders; many-coloured fires played about his locks; but there was a +wildness in his eyes, a mysterious melancholy in his features, that +betrayed the fallen angel.</p> + +<p>Matilda conversed with him in unintelligible language; he bowed +submissively, and gave to her a silver branch, imitating myrtle, that he +bore in his right hand. The music was heard again, and ceased; the cloud +spread itself afresh; the demon vanished.</p> + +<p>"With this branch," said Matilda, "every door will open before you. You +may gain access to Antonia; a touch of the branch will send her into a deep +sleep, and you may carry her away whither you will."</p> + +<p>Ashamed and fearful, yet borne away by his love, the monk set forth. The +bolts of Antonia's house flew back, and the doors opened before the silver +myrtle.</p> + +<p>But as he passed stealthily through the house a woman confronted him. It +was Antonia's mother, roused by a fearful dream.</p> + +<p>"Monster of hypocrisy!" she cried in fury. "I had already suspected you, +but I kept silence. Now I will unmask you, villain!"</p> + +<p>"Forgive me, lady!" begged the terrified monk. "I swear by all that is +holy------"</p> + +<p>"No! All Madrid shall shudder at your perfidy."</p> + +<p>He turned to fly. She seized him and screamed for help. He grasped +her by the throat with all his strength, strangled her, and flung her to +the ground, where she lay motionless. After a minute of horror-struck +shuddering, the murderer fled. He entered the abbey unobserved, and having +shut himself into his cell, he abandoned his soul to the tortures of +unavailing remorse.</p> + + +<h4><i>IV.--A Living Death</i></h4> + + +<p>"Do not despair," counselled Matilda, when the monk revealed his +failure. "Your crime is unsuspected. Antonia may still be yours. The +prioress of St. Clare has a mysterious liquor, the effect of which is to +give those who drink it the appearance of death for three days. Procure +some of this liquor, visit Antonia, and cause her to drink it; have her +body conveyed to a sepulchre in the vaults of St. Clare."</p> + +<p>Ambrosio hastened to secure a phial of the mysterious potion. He went to +comfort Antonia in her distress, and contrived to pour a few drops from the +phial into a draught that she was taking. In a few hours he heard that she +was dead, and her body was conveyed to the vaults.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, Lorenzo had learned, not indeed that his sister was alive, +but that she had been the victim of terrible cruelty. A nun, who had been +Agnes's friend, hinted at atrocious vengeance taken by the prioress for +Agnes's attempt to escape. She suggested that Lorenzo should bring the +officers of the Inquisition with him and arrest the prioress during a +public procession of the nuns in honour of St Clare.</p> + +<p>Accordingly, as the prioress passed along the street among her nuns with +a devout and sanctified air, the officers advanced and arrested her.</p> + +<p>"Ah!" she cried frantically, "I am betrayed!"</p> + +<p>"Betrayed!" replied the nun who had revealed the secret to Lorenzo. "I +charge the prioress with murder!"</p> + +<p>She told how Agnes had been secretly poisoned by the prioress. The mob, +mad with indignation, rushed to the convent determined to destroy it. +Lorenzo and the officers hastened to endeavour to do what they could to +save the convent and the terrified nuns who had taken refuge there.</p> + +<p>Antonia's heart throbbed, her eyes opened; she raised herself and cast a +wild look around her. Her clothing was a shroud; she lay in a coffin among +other coffins in a damp and hideous vault. Confronting her with a lantern +in his hand, and eyeing her greedily, stood Ambrosio.</p> + +<p>"Where am I?" she said abruptly. "How came I here? Let me go!"</p> + +<p>"Why these terrors, Antonia?" replied the abbot. "What fear you from +me--from one who adores you? You are imagined dead; society is for ever +lost to you. You are absolutely in my power!"</p> + +<p>She screamed, and strove to escape; he clutched at her and struggled to +detain her. Suddenly Matilda entered in haste.</p> + +<p>"The mob has set fire to the convent," she said to Ambrosio, "and the +abbey is in danger. Don Lorenzo and the officers are searching the vaults. +You cannot escape; you must remain here. They may not, perhaps, enter this +vault."</p> + +<p>Antonia heard that rescue was at hand.</p> + +<p>"Help! help!" she screamed, and ran out of the vault. The abbot pursued +her in desperation; he caught her; he could not stifle her cries. Frantic +in his desire to escape, he grasped Matilda's dagger, plunged it twice in +the bosom of Antonia, and fled back to the vault. It was too late he had +been seen, the glare of torches filled the vault, and Ambrosio and Matilda +were seized and bound by the officers of the Inquisition.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, Lorenzo, running to and fro, had flashed his lantern upon a +creature so wretched, so emaciated, that he doubted to think her woman. He +stopped petrified with horror.</p> + +<p>"Two days, and yet no food!" she moaned. "No hope, no comfort!" Suddenly +she looked up and addressed him.</p> + +<p>"Do you bring me food, or do you bring me death?"</p> + +<p>"I come," he replied, "to relieve your sorrows."</p> + +<p>"God, is it possible? Oh, yes! Yes, it is!"--she fainted. Lorenzo +carried her in his arms to the nuns above.</p> + +<p>Loud shrieks summoned him below again. Hastening after the officers, he +saw a woman bleeding on the ground. He went to her; it was his beloved +Antonia. She was dying; with a few sweet words of farewell, her spirit +passed away.</p> + +<p>Broken-hearted, he returned. He had lost Antonia, but he was to learn +that Agnes was restored to him. The woman he had rescued was indeed his +sister, saved from a living death and brought back to life and love.</p> + + +<h4><i>V.--Lucifer</i></h4> + + +<p>Ambrosio was tortured into confession, and condemned to be burned at the +stake. Matilda, terrified at the sight of her fellow-criminal's torments, +confessed without torture, and was sentenced to be burned at his side.</p> + +<p>They were to perish at midnight, and as the monk, in panic-stricken +despair, awaited the awful hour, suddenly Matilda stood before him, +beautifully attired, with a look of wild pleasure in her eyes.</p> + +<p>"Matilda!" he cried, "how have you gained entrance?"</p> + +<p>"Ambrosio," she replied, "I am free. For life and liberty I have sold my +soul to Lucifer. Dare you do the same?"</p> + +<p>The monk shuddered.</p> + +<p>"I cannot renounce my God," he said.</p> + +<p>"Fool! What hope have you of God's mercy?" She handed him a book. "If +you repent of your folly, read the first four lines in the seventh page +backwards." She vanished.</p> + +<p>A fearful struggle raged in the monk's spirit. What hope had he in any +case of escaping eternal torment? And yet--was not the Almighty's mercy +infinite? Then the thought of the stake and the flames entered his mind and +appalled him.</p> + +<p>At last the fatal hour came. The steps of his gaolers were heard in the +passage. In uttermost terror he opened the book and ran over the lines, and +straightway the fiend appeared--not seraph-like as when he appeared +formerly, but dark, hideous, and gigantic, with hissing snakes coiling +around his brows.</p> + +<p>He placed a parchment before Ambrosio.</p> + +<p>"Bear me hence!" cried the monk.</p> + +<p>"Will you be mine, body and soul?" said the demon. "Resolve while there +is time!"</p> + +<p>"I must!"</p> + +<p>"Sign, then!" Lucifer thrust a pen into the flesh of Ambrosio's arm, and +the monk signed. A moment later he was carried through the roof of the +dungeon into mid-air.</p> + +<p>The demon bore him with arrow-like speed to the brink of a precipice in +the Sierra Morena.</p> + +<p>"Carry me to Matilda!" gasped the monk.</p> + +<p>"Wretch!" answered Lucifer. "For what did you stipulate but rescue from +the Inquisition? Learn that when you signed, the steps in the corridor were +the steps of those who were bringing you a pardon. But now you are mine +beyond reprieve, to all eternity, and alive you quit not these +mountains."</p> + +<p>Darting his talons into the monk's shaven crown, he sprang with him from +the rock. From a dreadful height he flung him headlong, and the torrent +bore away with it the shattered corpse of Ambrosio.</p> + +<hr /> + + + + +<h2><a name="ELIZA_LYNN_LINTON"></a>ELIZA LYNN LINTON</h2> + + +<h3><a name="Joshua_Davidson"></a>Joshua Davidson</h3> + + +<blockquote> Mrs. Lynn Linton, daughter of a vicar of Crosthwaite, was born +at Keswick, England, Feb. 10, 1822. At the age of three-and-twenty she +embarked on a literary career, and as a journalist, magazine contributor, +and novelist wrote vigorously for over fifty years. Before her marriage, in +1858, to W.J. Linton, the eminent wood-engraver, who was also a poet, she +had served on the staff of the "Morning Chronicle," as Paris correspondent. +Later, she contributed to "All the Year Round," and to the "Saturday +Review." After nine years of married life, the Lintons parted amicably. In +1872 Mrs. Lynn Linton published "The True History of Joshua Davidson," a +powerfully simple story that has had much influence on working-class +thought. "Christopher Kirkland," a later story, is largely +autobiographical. Mrs. Linton died in London on July 14, 1898. She was a +trenchant critic of what she regarded as tendencies towards degeneration in +modern women. </blockquote> + + +<h4><i>I.--A Cornish Christ</i></h4> + + +<p>Joshua Davidson was the only son of a village carpenter, born in the +small hamlet of Trevalga, on the North Cornwall coast, in the year 1835. +There was nothing very remarkable about Joshua's childhood. He was always a +quiet, thoughtful boy, and from his earliest years noticeably pious. He had +a habit of asking why, and of reasoning out a principle, from quite a +little lad, which displeased people, so that he did not get all the credit +from the schoolmaster and the clergyman to which his diligence and good +conduct entitled him.</p> + +<p>He was never well looked on by the vicar since a famous scene that took +place in the church one Sunday. After catechism was over, Joshua stood out +before the rest, just in his rough country clothes as he was, and said very +respectfully to the vicar, "Mr. Grand, if you please I would like to ask +you a few questions."</p> + +<p>"Certainly, my lad. What have you to say?" said Mr. Grand rather +shortly.</p> + +<p>"If we say, sir, that Jesus Christ was God," said Joshua, "surely all +that He said and did must be real right? There cannot be a better way than +His?"</p> + +<p>"Surely not, my lad," Mr. Grand made answer.</p> + +<p>"And His apostles and disciples, they showed the way, too?" said +Joshua.</p> + +<p>"And they showed the way, too, as you say; and if you come up to half +they taught you'll do well, Joshua."</p> + +<p>The vicar laughed a little laugh as he said this, but it was a laugh, +Joshua's mother said, that seemed to mean the same thing as a "scat"--our +Cornish word for a blow--only the boy didn't seem to see it.</p> + +<p>"Yes; but, sir, if we are Christians, why don't we live as Christians?" +said Joshua.</p> + +<p>"Ah, indeed, why don't we?" said Mr. Grand. "Because of the wickedness +of the human heart; because of the world, the flesh, and the devil."</p> + +<p>"Then, sir, if you feel this, why don't you and all the clergy live like +the apostles, and give what you have to the poor?" cried Joshua, clasping +his hands and making a step forward, the tears in his eyes.</p> + +<p>"Why do you live in a fine house, and have grand dinners, and let Peggy +Bray nearly starve in that old mud hut of hers, and Widow Tregellis there, +with her six children, and no fire or clothing for them? I can't make it +out, sir!"</p> + +<p>"Who has been putting these bad thoughts into your head?" said Mr. Grand +sternly.</p> + +<p>"No one, sir. I have been thinking for myself. Michael, out by Lion's +Den, is called an infidel--he calls himself one. And you preached last +Sunday that no infidel can be saved. But Michael helped Peggy and her child +when the orphan fund people took away her pension; and he worked early and +late for Widow Tregellis and her children, and shared with them all he had, +going short for them many a time. And I can't help thinking, sir, that +Christ would have helped Peggy, and that Michael, being an infidel and such +a good man, is something like that second son in the parable who said he +would not do his Lord's will when he was ordered, but who went all the +same------"</p> + +<p>"And that your vicar is like the first?" interrupted Mr. Grand +angrily.</p> + +<p>"Well, yes, sir, if you please," said Joshua quite modestly, but very +fervently.</p> + +<p>There was a stir among the ladies and gentlemen when Joshua said this; +and some laughed a little, under their breath, and others lifted up their +eyebrows and said, "What an extraordinary boy!" But Mr. Grand was very +angry, and said, in a severe tone, "These things are beyond the knowledge +of an ignorant lad like you, Joshua. I consider you have done a very +impertinent thing to-day, and I shall mark you for it!"</p> + +<p>"I meant no harm. I meant only the truth and to hear the things of God," +repeated Joshua sadly, as he took his seat among his companions, who +tittered.</p> + +<p>And so Joshua was not well looked on by the clergyman, who was his +enemy, as one may say, ever after.</p> + +<p>"Mother," said Joshua, "I mean, when I grow up, to live as our Lord and +Saviour lived when He was on the earth."</p> + +<p>"He is our example, lad," said his mother. "But I doubt lest you fall by +over-boldness."</p> + + +<h4><i>II.--Faith That Moveth Mountains</i></h4> + + +<p>Joshua did not leave home early. He wrought at his father's bench, and +was content to bide with his people. But his spirit was not dead if his +life was uneventful. He gathered about him a few youths of his own age, and +held with them prayer-meetings and Bible readings, either at home in his +father's house, or in the fields when the throng was too great for the +cottage.</p> + +<p>No one ever knew Joshua tell the shadow of a lie, or go back from his +word, or play at pretence. And he had such an odd way of coming right home +to us. He seemed to have felt all that we felt, and to have thought all our +thoughts.</p> + +<p>The youths that Joshua got together as his friends were as +well-conditioned a set of lads as you would wish to see--sober, +industrious, chaste. Their aim was to be thorough and like Christ. Joshua's +great hope was to bring back the world to the simplicity and broad humanity +of Christ's acted life, and he could not understand how it had been let +drop.</p> + +<p>He was but a young man at this time, remember--enthusiastic, with little +or no scientific knowledge, and putting the direct interposition of God +above the natural law. Wherefore, he accepted the text about faith removing +mountains as literally true. And one evening he went down into the Rocky +Valley, earnest to try conclusions with God's promise, and sure of proving +it true.</p> + +<p>He prayed to God to grant us this manifestation--to redeem His promise. +Not a shadow of doubt chilled or slacked him. As he stood there in the +softening twilight, with his arms raised above his head and his face turned +up to the sky, his countenance glowed as Moses' of old. He seemed inspired, +transported beyond himself, beyond humanity.</p> + +<p>He commanded the stone to move in God's name, and because Christ had +promised. But the rock stood still, and a stonechat went and perched on +it.</p> + +<p>Another time he took up a viper in his hand, quoting the passage, "They +shall take up serpents." But the beast stung him, and he was ill for days +after.</p> + +<p>"Take my advice," said the doctor. "Put all these thoughts out of your +head. Get some work to do in a new part of the country, fall in love with +some nice girl, and marry as soon as you can make a home for her. That's +the only life for you, depend upon it."</p> + +<p>"God has given me other thoughts," said Joshua, "and I must obey +them."</p> + +<p>The doctor said afterwards that he was quite touched at the lad's +sweetness and wrong-headedness combined.</p> + +<p>The failure of these trials of faith perplexed us all, and profoundly +afflicted Joshua. "Friends," he said at last, "it seems to me--indeed, I +think we must all see it now--that His Word is not to be accepted +literally. The laws of nature are supreme, and even faith cannot change +them. Can it be," he then said solemnly, "that much of the Word is a +parable--that Christ was truly, as He says of Himself, the corner-stone, +but not the whole building--and that we have to carry on the work in His +spirit, but in our own way, and not merely to try and repeat His acts?"</p> + +<p>It was after this that we noticed a certain restlessness in Joshua. But +in time he had an offer to go up to London to follow his trade at a large +house in the City, and got me a job as well, that I might be alongside of +him. For we were like brothers. A few days before he went, Joshua happened +to be coming out of his father's workshop just as Mr. Grand was passing, +driving the neat pair-horse phaeton he had lately bought.</p> + +<p>"Well, Joshua, and how are you doing? And why have you not been to +church lately?" said the parson, pulling up.</p> + +<p>"Well, sir," said Joshua, "I don't go to church, you know."</p> + +<p>"A new light on your own account, hey?" and he laughed as if he mocked +him.</p> + +<p>"No, sir; only a seeker."</p> + +<p>"The old path's not good enough for you?"</p> + +<p>"I must answer for my conscience to God, sir," said Joshua.</p> + +<p>"And your clergyman, appointed by God and the state to be your guide, +what of him? Has he no authority in his own parish?"</p> + +<p>"Look here, sir," said Joshua, quite respectfully; "I deny your +appointment as a God-given leader of souls. The Church is but the old +priesthood as it existed in the days of our Lord. I see no sacrifice of the +world, no brotherhood with the poor----"</p> + +<p>"The poor!" interrupted Mr. Grand disdainfully. "What would you have, +you young fool? The poor have the laws of their country to protect them, +and the Gospel preached to them for their salvation."</p> + +<p>"Why, sir, the poor of our day are the lepers of Christ's, and who among +you Christian priests consorts with them? Who ranks the man above his +station, or the soul above the man?"</p> + +<p>"Now we have come to it!" cried Mr. Grand. "I thought I should touch the +secret spring at last! And you would like us to associate with you as +equals--is that it, Joshua? Gentlemen and common men hob-and-nob together, +and no distinctions made? You to ride in our carriages, and perhaps marry +our daughters?"</p> + +<p>"That's just it, sir. You are gentlemen, as you say, but not the +followers of Christ. If you were, you would have no carriages to ride in, +and your daughters would be what Martha and Mary and Lydia and Dorcas were, +and their title to ladyhood founded on their degrees of goodness."</p> + +<p>"Shall I tell you what would be the very thing for you," said Mr. Grand, +quite quietly.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir; what?" asked Joshua eagerly.</p> + +<p>"This whip across your shoulders! And, by George, if I were not a +clergyman, I would lay it there with a will!" cried the parson.</p> + +<p>No one had ever seen Joshua angry since he had grown up. His temper was +proverbially sweet, and his self-control was a marvel. But this time he +lost both.</p> + +<p>"God shall smite thee, thou white wall!" he cried with vehemence. "You +are the gentleman, sir, and I am only a poor carpenter's son; but I spurn +you with a deeper and more solemn scorn than you have spurned me!"</p> + +<p>He lifted his hand as he said this, with a strange and passionate +gesture, then turned himself about and went in, and Mr. Grand drove off +more his ill-wisher than before. He also made old Davidson, Joshua's +father, suffer for his son, for he took away his custom from him, and did +him what harm in the neighbourhood a gentleman's ill word can do a working +man.</p> + + +<h4><i>III.--Is Christ's Way Livable?</i></h4> + + +<p>In London a new view of life opened to Joshua. The first thing that +struck him in our workshop was the avowed infidelity of the workmen. +Distrust had penetrated to their inmost souls. Christianity represents to +the poor, not Christ tender to the sinful, visiting the leprous, the +brother of publicans, at Whose feet sat the harlots and were comforted, but +the gentleman taking sides with God against the poor and oppressed, an +elder brother in the courts of heaven kicking the younger out of doors.</p> + +<p>At this time Joshua's mind was like an unpiloted vessel. He was beset +with doubts, in which the only thing that kept its shape or place was the +character of Christ. For the rest, everything had failed him. During this +time he did not neglect what I suppose may be called the secular life. He +attended all such science classes as he had time for, and being naturally +quick in study, he picked up a vast deal of knowledge in a very short time; +he interested himself in politics, in current social questions, specially +those relating to labour and capital, and in the condition of the poor.</p> + +<p>So his time passed, till at last one evening, "Friends," he said, "I +have at last cleared my mind and come to a belief. I have proved to myself +the sole meaning of Christ: it is humanity. The modern Christ would be a +politician. His aim would be to raise the whole platform of society. He +would work at the destruction of caste, which is the vice at the root of +all our creeds and institutions. He would accept the truths of science, and +He would teach that a man saves his own soul best by helping his neighbour. +Friends, the doctrine I have chosen for myself is Christian Communism, and +my aim will be, the life after Christ in the service of humanity."</p> + +<p>It was this which made him begin his "night school," where he got +together all who would come, and tried to interest them in a few homely +truths in the way of cleanliness, health, good cooking, and the like, with +interludes, so to speak, of lessons in morality.</p> + +<p>We lodged in a stifling court, Church Court, where every room was filled +as if cubic inches were gold, as indeed they are to London house-owners, if +human life is but dross. Opposite us lived Mary Prinsep, who was what the +world calls lost--a bad girl--a castaway--but I have reason to speak well +of her, for to her we owe the life of Joshua. Joshua fell ill in our +wretched lodgings, where we lived and did for ourselves, and I was obliged +to leave him for twelve hours and more at a stretch; but Mary Prinsep came +over and nursed him, and kept him alive. We helped her all we could, and +she helped us. This got us the name of associating with bad women.</p> + +<p>Among the rest of the doubtful characters with which our court abounded +was one Joe Traill, who had been in prison many a time for petty larceny +and the like. He was one of those who stink in the nostrils of cleanly, +civilised society, and who are its shame and secret sore. There was no +place for Joe in this great world of ours. He said to Joshua one night in +his blithe way that there was nothing for him but to make a running fight +for it, now up, now down, as his luck went.</p> + +<p>"Burglary's a bad trade," said Joshua.</p> + +<p>"Only one I've got at my fingers' ends, governor," laughed the thief; +"and starvation is a worse go than quod."</p> + +<p>"Well, till you've learned a better, share with us," said Joshua. So now +we had a reformed burglar and a reformed prostitute in our little +circle.</p> + +<p>"It is what Christ would have done," said Joshua, when he was +remonstrated with.</p> + +<p>But the police did not see it. Wherefore, "from information received," +Joshua and I were called up before the master, and had our dismissal from +the shop, and we found ourselves penniless in the wilds of London. But +Joshua was undisturbed. He told both Joe and Mary that he would not forsake +them, come what might.</p> + +<p>It was a hard time, and, bit by bit, everything we possessed passed over +the pawnbroker's counter, even to our tools. But when we were at the worst +Joshua received a letter enclosing a five-pound note, "from a friend." We +never knew where it came from, and there was no clue by which we could +guess. Immediately after both Joshua and I got a job, and Joe and Mary +still bided with us.</p> + +<p>Joshua's life of work and endeavour brought with it no reward of praise +or popularity. It suffered the fate of all unsectarianism, and made him to +be as one man in the midst of foes. He soon began to see that the utmost he +could do was only palliative and temporary. So he turned to class +organisation as something more hopeful than private charity. When the +International Workingmen's Association was formed, he joined it as one of +its first members; indeed, he mainly helped to establish it. And though he +never got the ear of the International, because he was so truly liberal, he +had some little influence, and what influence he had ennobled their +councils as they have never been ennobled since.</p> + +<p>One evening Joe Traill, who had been given a situation, came into the +night school staggering drunk, and made a commotion, and though Joshua +quieted him, after being struck by him, the police, attracted by the +tumult, came up into the room and marched Joshua and myself off to the +police station, where we were locked up for the night. As we had to be +punished, reason or none, we were both sent to prison for a couple of weeks +next morning.</p> + +<p>Well, Christ was the criminal of his day!</p> + +<p>Such backslidings and failures at that of Joe Traill were among the +greatest difficulties of Joshua's work. Men and women whom he had thought +he had cleansed and set on a wholesome way of living, turned back again to +the drink and the deviltry of their lives, and the various sectarians who +came along all agreed that the cause of his failures was--Joshua was not a +Christian!</p> + +<p>Next a spasmodic philanthropist, Lord X., struck up a friendship with +Joshua, who, he said, wanted, as a background, a man of position. This led +to Joshua's first introduction into a wealthy house of the upper classes, +and the luxury and lavishness almost stupefied him. Lady X. liked Joshua, +and felt he was a master-spirit, but when she came to Church Court, and +found out what Mary had been, she went away offended, and we saw her no +more.</p> + + +<h4><i>IV.--The Pathway of Martyrdom</i></h4> + + +<p>Sometimes Joshua went as a lecturer to various towns, for his political +associates were willing to use his political zeal, though they did not go +in for his religious views. He insisted on the need of the working classes +raising themselves to a higher level in mind and circumstance, and on the +right of each man to a fair share of the primary essentials for good +living. His discourses roused immense antagonism, and he was sometimes set +upon and severely handled by the men to whom he spoke. I have known +swindlers and murderers more gently entreated. When, after the war between +France and Prussia the Commune declared itself in Paris, Joshua went over +to help, as far as he could, in the cause of humanity. I went with him, and +poor, loving, faithful Mary followed us. But there, notwithstanding all +that we and others of like mind could do, blood was shed which covered +liberty with shame, and in the confusion that followed Mary was shot as a +pétroleuse while she was succouring the wounded. We buried her +tenderly, and I laid part of my life in her grave.</p> + +<p>On our return Joshua was regarded as the representative of social +destruction and godless licence, for the very name of the Commune was a red +rag to English thought.</p> + +<p>At last we came to a place called Lowbridge, where Joshua was announced +to lecture on Communism in the town hall. Grave as he always was, that +night he was grave to sadness, like a martyr going to his death. He shook +hands with me before going on the platform, and said, "God bless you, John; +you have been a true friend to me."</p> + +<p>In the first row in front of him was the former clergyman of Trevalga, +Mr. Grand, who had lately been given the rich living of Lowbridge and one +or two stately cathedral appointments. At the first word Joshua spoke there +broke out such a tumult as I had never heard in any public meeting. The +yells, hisses, cat-calls, whoopings, were indescribable. It only ceased +when Mr. Grand rose, and standing on a chair, appealed to the audience to +"Give him your minds, my men, and let him understand that Lowbridge is no +place for a godless rascal like him."</p> + +<p>I will do Mr. Grand the justice to say I do not think he intended his +words to have the effect they did have. A dozen men leaped on the platform, +and in a moment I saw Joshua under their feet. They had it all their own +way, and while he lay on the ground, pale and senseless, one, with a +fearful oath, kicked him twice on the head. Suddenly a whisper went round, +they all drew a little, way off, the gas was turned down, and the place +cleared as if by magic. When the lights were up again, I went to lift +him--and he was dead.</p> + +<p>The man who had lived the life after Christ more exactly than any human +being ever known to me was killed by the Christian party of order. So the +world has ever disowned its best when they came.</p> + +<p>The death of my friend has left me not only desolate but uncertain. Like +Joshua in earlier days, my mind is unpiloted and unanchored. Everywhere I +see the sifting of competition, and nowhere Christian protection of +weakness; everywhere dogma adored, and nowhere Christ realised. And again I +ask, Which is true--modern society in its class strife and consequent +elimination of its weaker elements, or the brotherhood and communism taught +by the Jewish Carpenter of Nazareth? Who will answer me? Who will make the +dark thing clear?</p> + +<hr /> + + + + +<h2><a name="SAMUEL_LOVER"></a>SAMUEL LOVER</h2> + + +<h3><a name="Handy_Andy"></a>Handy Andy</h3> + + +<blockquote> Samuel Lover, born at Dublin on February 24, 1797, was the +most versatile man of his age. He was a song-writer, a novelist, a painter, +a dramatist, and an entertainer; and in each of these parts he was +remarkably successful. In 1835 he came to London, and set up as a miniature +painter; then he turned to literature, and in "Rory O'More," published in +1837, and "Handy Andy, a Tale of Irish Life," which appeared in 1842, he +took the town. Lover was a typical Irishman of the old +school--high-spirited, witty, and jovially humorous; and his work is +informed with a genuine Irish raciness that gives it a perennial freshness. +He is a man gaily in love with life, and with a quick eye for all the +varied humours of it. "Handy Andy" is one of the most amusing books ever +written; a roaring farce, written by a man who combined the liveliest sense +of fun with a painter's gift of portraying real character in a few vivid +touches. Samuel Lover died on July 6, 1868. </blockquote> + + +<h4><i>I.--The Squire Gets a Surprise</i></h4> + + +<p>Andy Rooney was a fellow with a most ingenious knack of doing everything +the wrong way. "Handy" Andy was the nickname the neighbours stuck on him, +and the poor simple-minded lad liked the jeering jingle. Even Mrs. Rooney, +who thought that her boy was "the sweetest craythur the cun shines on," +preferred to hear him called "Handy Andy" rather than "Suds."</p> + +<p>For sad memories attached to the latter nickname. Knowing what a hard +life Mrs. Rooney had had--she had married a stranger, who disappeared a +month after marriage, so Andy came into the world with no father to beat a +little sense into him--Squire Egan of Merryvale engaged the boy as a +servant. One of the first things that Andy was called upon to do was to +wait at table during an important political dinner given by the squire. +Andy was told to ice the champagne, and the wine and a tub of ice were +given to him.</p> + +<p>"Well, this is the quarest thing I ever heered of," said Andy. "Musha! +What outlandish inventions the quality has among them! They're not content +with wine, but they must have ice along with it--and in a tub, too, like +pigs! Troth, its a' dirty thrick, I think. But here goes!" said he; and +opening a bottle of champagne, he poured it into the tub with the ice.</p> + +<p>Andy distinguished himself right at the beginning of the dinner. One of +the guests asked him for soda-water.</p> + +<p>"Would you like it hot or cold, sir?" he said.</p> + +<p>"Never mind," replied the guest, with a laugh. But Andy was anxious to +please, and the squire's butler met him hurrying to the kitchen, +bewildered, but still resolute.</p> + +<p>"One of the gintlemen wants some soap and wather with his wine," +exclaimed Andy. "Shall I give it hot or cold?"</p> + +<p>The distracted and irate butler took Andy to the sideboard and pushed a +small soda into his hand, saying, "Cut the cord, you fool!" Andy took it +gingerly, and holding it over the table, carried out the order. Bang I went +the bottle, and the cork, after knocking out two of the lights, struck the +squire in the eye, while the hostess had a cold bath down her back. Poor +Andy, frightened by the soda-water jumping out of the bottle, kept holding +it out at arm's-length, exclaiming at every fizz, "Ow, ow, ow!"</p> + +<p>"Send that fellow out of the room," said the squire to the butler, "and +bring in the champagne."</p> + +<p>In staggered Andy with the tub.</p> + +<p>"Hand it round the table," said the squire.</p> + +<p>Andy tried to lift up the tub "to hand it round the table," but finding +he could not, he whispered, "I can't get it up, sir!"</p> + +<p>"Draw it then," murmured his master, thinking that Andy meant he had got +a bottle which was not effervescent enough to expel its own cork.</p> + +<p>"Here it is," said Andy, pulling the tub up to the squire's chair.</p> + +<p>"What do you mean, you stupid rascal?" exclaimed the squire, staring at +the strange stuff before him. "There's not a single bottle there!"</p> + +<p>"To be sure there's no bottle there, sir," said Andy. "I've poured every +dhrop of wine in the ice, as you towld me, sir. If you put your hand down +into it, you'll feel it."</p> + +<p>A wild roar of laughter uprose from the listening guests. Happily they +were now too merry to be upset by the mishap, and it was generally voted +that the joke was worth twice as much as the wine. Handy Andy was, however, +expelled from the dining-room in disgrace, and for days kept out of his +master's way, and the servants for months would call him by no other name +but "Suds."</p> + + +<h4><i>II.--O'Grady Gets a Blister</i></h4> + + +<p>Mr. Egan was a kind-hearted man, and, instead of dismissing Andy, he +kept him on for out-door work. Our hero at once distinguished himself in +his new walk of life.</p> + +<p>"Ride into the town and see if there is a letter for me," said the +squire.</p> + +<p>"I want a letther, if you plaze!" shouted Andy, rushing into the +post-office.</p> + +<p>"Who do you want it for?" asked the postmaster.</p> + +<p>"What consarn is that o' yours?" exclaimed Andy.</p> + +<p>Happily, a man who knew Andy looked in for a letter, paid the postage of +fourpence on it, and then settled the dispute between Andy and the +postmaster by mentioning Mr. Egan's name.</p> + +<p>"Why didn't you tell me you came from the squire?" said the postmaster. +"Here's a letter for him. Elevenpence postage."</p> + +<p>"Elevenpence postage!" Andy cried. "Didn't I see you give that man a +letther for fourpence, and a bigger letther than this? Do you think I'm a +fool?"</p> + +<p>"No," said the postmaster; "I'm sure of it."</p> + +<p>He walked off to serve another customer, and Andy meditated. His master +wanted the letter badly, so he would have to pay the exorbitant price. He +snatched two other letters from the heap on the counter while the +postmaster's back was turned, paid the elevenpence, received the epistle to +which he was entitled, and rode home triumphant.</p> + +<p>"Look at that!" he exclaimed, slapping the three letters down under his +broad fist on the table before the astonished squire. "He made me pay +elevenpence, by gor! But I've brought your honour the worth of your money, +anyhow."</p> + +<p>"Well, by the powers!" said the squire, as Andy stalked out of the room +with an air of supreme triumph. "That's the most extraordinary genius I +ever came across!"</p> + +<p>He read the letter for which he had been anxiously waiting. It was from +his lawyer about the forthcoming election. In it he was warned to beware of +his friend O'Grady, who was selling his interest to the government +candidate.</p> + +<p>"So that's the work O'Grady's at!" exclaimed the squire angrily. "Foul, +foul! And after all the money I lent him, too!"</p> + +<p>He threw down the letter, and his eye caught the other two that Andy had +stolen.</p> + +<p>"More of that mad fool's work! Robbing the mail now. That's a hanging +job. I'd better send them to the parties to whom they're addressed."</p> + +<p>Picking up one of the epistles, he found it was a government letter +directed to his new enemy, O'Grady. "All's fair in war," thought the +squire, and pinching the letter until it gaped, he peeped in and read: "As +you very properly remark, poor Egan is a spoon--a mere spoon." "Am I a +spoon, your villain!" roared the squire, tearing the letter and throwing it +into the fire. "I'm a spoon you'll sup sorrow with yet!"</p> + +<p>"Get out a writ on O'Grady for all the money he owes me," he wrote to +his lawyer. "Send me the blister, and I'll slap it on him."</p> + +<p>Unfortunately, he sent Andy with this letter; still more unfortunately, +Mrs. Egan also gave the simple fellow a prescription to be made up at the +chemist's. Andy surpassed himself on this occasion. He called at the +chemist's on his way back from the lawyer's, and carefully laid the sealed +envelope containing the writ on the counter, while he was getting the +medicine. On leaving, he took up a different envelope.</p> + +<p>"My dear Squire," ran the letter Andy brought back, "I send you the +blister for O'Grady, as you insist on it; but I don't think you will find +it easy to serve him with it.--Your obedient, MURTOUGH MURPHY."</p> + +<p>When the squire opened the accompanying envelope, and found within a +real instead of a figurative blister, he grew crimson with rage. But he was +consoled when he went to horsewhip his attorney, and met the chemist +pelting down the street with O'Grady tearing after him with a cudgel. For +some years O'Grady had successfully kept out of his door every +process-server sent by his innumerable creditors; but now, having got a +cold, he had dispatched his man to the chemist for a blister, and owing to +Handy Andy, he obtained Squire Egan's writ against him.</p> + +<p>"You've made a mistake this time, you rascal," said the squire to Andy, +"for which I'll forgive you."</p> + +<p>And this was only fair, for through it he was able to carry the +election, and become Edward Egan, Esq., M.P.</p> + + +<h4><i>III.--Andy Gets Married</i></h4> + + +<p>Andy was among the guests invited to the wedding feast of pretty Matty +Dwyer and handsome young James Casey; like everybody else he came to the +marriage full of curiosity. Matty's father, John Dwyer, was a hard, +close-fisted fellow, and, as all the neighbours knew, there had been many +fierce disputes between him and Casey over the question of a farm belonging +to Dwyer going into the marriage settlement.</p> + +<p>A grand dinner was laid in the large barn, but it was kept waiting owing +to the absence of the bridegroom. Father Phil, the kindly, jovial parish +priest, who had come to help James and Matty "tie with their tongues the +knot they couldn't undo with their teeth," had not broken his fast that +day, and wanted the feast to go on. To the great surprise of the company, +Matty backed him, and full of life and spirits, began to lay the dinner. +For some time the hungry guests were busy with the good cheer provided for +them, but the women at last asked in loud whispers, "Where in the world is +James Casey?" Still the bride kept up her smiles, but old Jack Dwyer's face +grew blacker and blacker. Unable to bear the strain any longer, he stood up +and addressed the expectant crowd.</p> + +<p>"You see the disgrace that's put on me!"</p> + +<p>"He'll come yet, sir," said Andy.</p> + +<p>"No, he won't!" cried Dwyer, "I see he won't. He wanted to get +everything his own way, and he thinks to disgrace me in doing what he +likes, but he shan't;" and he struck the table fiercely. "He goes back of +his bargain now, thinkin' I'll give in to him; but I won't. Friends and +neighbours, here's the lease of the three-cornered field below there and a +snug little cottage, and it's ready for my girl to walk in with the man +that will have her! If there's a man among you here that's willing, let him +say the word, and I'll give her to him!"</p> + +<p>Matty tried to protest, but her father silenced her with a terrible +look. When old Dwyer's blood was up, he was capable of murder. No guest +dared to speak.</p> + +<p>"Are yiz all dumb?" shouted Dwyer. "It's not every day a farm and a fine +girl falls in a man's way."</p> + +<p>Still no one spoke, and Andy thought they were using Dwyer and his +daughter badly.</p> + +<p>"Would I do, sir?" he timidly said.</p> + +<p>Andy was just the last man Dwyer would have chosen, but he was +determined that someone should marry the girl, and show Casey "the disgrace +should not be put on him." He called up Andy and Matty, and asked the +priest to marry them.</p> + +<p>"I can't, if your daughter objects," said Father Phil.</p> + +<p>Dwyer turned on the girl, and there was the devil in his eye.</p> + +<p>"I'll marry him," said Matty.</p> + +<p>So the rites and blessings of the Church were dispensed between two +persons who an hour before had never given a thought to each other. Yet it +was wonderful with what lightness of heart Matty went through the honours +consequent on a peasant bridal in Ireland. She gaily led off the dance with +Andy, and the night was far spent before the bride and bridegroom were +escorted to the cottage which was to be their home.</p> + +<p>Matty sat quiet, looking at the fire, while Andy bolted the door; but +when he tried to kiss her she leaped up furiously.</p> + +<p>"I'll crack your silly head if you don't behave yourself," she cried, +seizing a stool and brandishing it above him.</p> + +<p>"Oh, wirra, wirra!" said Andy. "Aren't you my wife? Why did you marry +me?"</p> + +<p>"Did I want owld Jack Dwyer to murther me as soon as the people's backs +was turned?" said Matty. "But though I'm afraid of him, I'm not afraid of +you!"</p> + +<p>"Och!" cried poor Andy, "what'll be the end of it?"</p> + +<p>There was a tap at the door as he spoke, and Matty ran and opened +it.</p> + +<p>In came James Casey and half a dozen strong young fellows. Behind them +crept a reprobate, degraded priest who got his living and his name of +"Couple-Beggar" by performing irregular marriages. The end of it was that +Matty was married over again to Casey, whom she had sent for while the +dancing was going on. Poor Andy, bound hand and foot, was carried out of +the cottage to a lonely by-way, and there he passed his wedding-night roped +to the stump of an old tree.</p> + + +<h4><i>IV.--Andy Gets Married Again</i></h4> + + +<p>Misfortunes now accumulated on Andy's head. At break of day he was +released from the tree-stump by Squire Egan, who was riding by with some +bad news for the man he thought was now a happy bridegroom. Owing to an +indiscreet word dropped by our simple-minded hero, a gang of smugglers, who +ran an illicit still on the moors, had gathered something about Andy +stealing the letters from the post-office and Squire Egan burning them. +They had already begun to blackmail the squire, and in order to defeat them +it was necessary to get Andy out of the country for some time. So nothing +could be done against Casey.</p> + +<p>And, on going home to prepare for a journey to England with a friend of +the squire's, Andy found his mother in a sad state of anxiety. His pretty +cousin, Oonah, was crying in a corner of the room, and Ragged Nance, an +unkempt beggar-woman, to whom the Rooneys had done many a good turn, was +screaming, "I tell you Shan More means to carry off Oonah to-night. I heard +them laying the plan for it."</p> + +<p>"We'll go to the squire," sobbed Mrs. Rooney. "The villain durst +not!"</p> + +<p>"He's got the squire under his thumb, I tell you," replied Ragged Nance. +"You must look after yourselves. I've got it," she said, turning to Andy. +"We'll dress him as a girl, and let the smugglers take him."</p> + +<p>Andy roared with laughter at the notion of being made a girl of. Though +Shan More was the blackguardly leader of the smugglers who were giving the +squire trouble, Andy was too taken up with the fun of being transformed +into the very rough likeness of a pleasing young woman to think of the +danger. It was difficult to give his angular form the necessary roundness +of outline; but Ragged Nance at last padded him out with straw, and tied a +bonnet on his head to shade his face, saying, "That'll deceive them. Shan +More won't come himself. He'll send some of his men, and they're all dhrunk +already."</p> + +<p>"But they'll murdher my boy when they find out the chate," said Mrs. +Rooney.</p> + +<p>"Suppose they did," exclaimed Andy stoutly; "I'd rather die, sure, than +the disgrace should fall upon Oonah there."</p> + +<p>"God bless you, Andy dear!" said Oonah.</p> + +<p>The tramp of approaching horses rang through the stillness of the night, +and Oonah and Nance ran out and crouched in the potato tops in the garden. +Four drunken vagabonds broke into the cottage, and, seeing Andy in the dim +light clinging to his mother, they dragged him away and lifted him on a +horse, and galloped off with him.</p> + +<p>As it happened, luck favoured Andy. When he came to the smugglers' den, +Shan More was lying on the ground stunned, and his sister, Red Bridget, was +tending him; in going up the ladder from the underground whisky-still, he +had fallen backward. The upshot was that Andy was left in charge of Red +Bridget. But, alas! just as he was hoping to escape, she penetrated through +his disguise. More unfortunately still, Andy was, with all his faults, a +rather good-looking young fellow, and Red Bridget took a fancy to him, and +the "Couple-Beggar" was waiting for a job.</p> + +<p>Smugglers' whisky is very strong, and Bridget artfully plied him with +it. Andy was still rather dazed when he reached home next morning.</p> + +<p>"I've married again," he said to his mother.</p> + +<p>"Married?" interrupted Oonah, growing pale. "Who to?"</p> + +<p>"Shan More's sister," said Andy.</p> + +<p>"Wirasthru!" screamed Mrs. Rooney, tearing her cap off her head. "You +got the worst woman in Ireland."</p> + +<p>"Then I'll go and 'list for a sojer," said he.</p> + + +<h4><i>V.--Andy Gets Married a Third Time</i></h4> + + +<p>It was Father Phil that brought the extraordinary news to Squire +Egan.</p> + +<p>"Do you remember those two letters that Andy stole from the post-office, +and that someone burnt?" he asked, with a smile.</p> + +<p>"I've been meaning to tell you, father, that one was for you," said the +squire, looking very uncomfortable.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Andy let it out long ago," said the kindly old priest. "But the +joke is that by stealing my letter Andy nearly lost a title and a great +fortune. Ever heard of Lord Scatterbrain? He died a little time ago, +confessing in his will that it was he that married Mrs. Rooney, and +deserted her."</p> + +<p>"So Handy Andy is now a lord!" exclaimed the squire, rocking with +laughter.</p> + +<p>Andy took it like a true son of the wildest and most eccentric of Irish +peers. On getting over the first shock of astonishment, he broke out into +short peals of laughter, exclaiming at intervals, that "it was mighty +quare." When, after much questioning, his wishes in regard to his new life +were made clear, it was found that they all centred on one object, which +was "to have a goold watch."</p> + +<p>The squire was perplexed what to do with a great nobleman of this sort, +and at last he got a kinsman, Dick Dawson, who loved fun, to take Andy +under his especial care to London. When they arrived there it was wonderful +how many persons were eager to show civility to his new lordship, and he +who as Handy Andy had been cried down all his life as a "stupid rascal," "a +blundering thief," "a thick-headed brute," suddenly acquired, under the +title of Lord Scatterbrain, a reputation for being "vastly amusing, a +little eccentric, perhaps, but so droll."</p> + +<p>All this was very delightful for Andy--so delightful that he quite +forgot Red Bridget. But Red Bridget did not forget him.</p> + +<p>"Lady Scatterbrain!" announced the servant one day; and in came Bridget +and Shan More and an attorney.</p> + +<p>The attorney brought out a settlement in which an exorbitant sum was to +be settled on Bridget, and Shan More, with a threatening air, ordered Andy +to sign the deed.</p> + +<p>"I can't," cried Andy, retreating to the fire-place, "and I won't!"</p> + +<p>"You must sign your name!" roared Shan More.</p> + +<p>"I can't, I tell you!" yelled Andy, seizing the poker. "I've never +larned to write."</p> + +<p>"Your lordship can make your mark," said the attorney.</p> + +<p>"I'll make my mark with this poker," cried Andy, "if you don't all clear +out!"</p> + +<p>The noise of a frightful row brought Dick Dawson into the room, and he +managed to get rid of the intruders by inducing the attorney to conduct the +negotiations through Lord Scatterbrain's solicitors.</p> + +<p>But while the negotiations were going on, a fact came to light that +altered the whole complexion of the matter, and Andy went post-haste over +to Ireland to the fine house in which his mother and his cousin were +living.</p> + +<p>Bursting into the drawing-room, he made a rush upon Oonah, whom he +hugged and kissed most outrageously, with exclamations of the wildest +affection.</p> + +<p>When Oonah freed herself from his embraces, and asked him what he was +about, Andy turned over the chairs, threw the mantelpiece ornaments into +the fire, and banged the poker and tongs together, shouting! "Hurroo! I'm +not married at all!"</p> + +<p>It had been discovered that Red Bridget had a husband living when she +forced Andy to marry her, and as soon as it was legally proved that Lord +Scatterbrain was a free man, Father Phil was called in, and Oonah, who had +all along loved her wild cousin, was made Lady Scatterbrain.</p> + +<hr /> + + + + +<h2><a name="EDWARD_BULWER_LYTTON"></a>EDWARD BULWER LYTTON</h2> + + +<h3><a name="Eugene_Aram"></a>Eugene Aram</h3> + + +<blockquote> Novelist, poet, essayist, and politician, Edward Bulwer Lytton +was born in London on May 25, 1805. His father was General Earle Bulwer. He +assumed his mother's family name on her death in 1843, and was elevated to +the peerage as Baron Lytton in 1866. At seventeen Lytton published a volume +entitled, "Ismael, and Other Poems." An unhappy marriage in 1827 was +followed by extraordinary literary activity, and during the next ten years +he produced twelve novels, two poems, a play, "England and the English," +and "Athens: Its Rise and Fall," besides an enormous number of shorter +stories, essays, and articles for contemporary periodicals. Altogether his +output is represented by nearly sixty volumes. Few books on their +publication have created a greater furore than Lord Lytton's "Eugene Aram," +which was published in 1832. One section of the novel-reading public hailed +its moving, dramatic story with manifest delight, while the other severely +condemned it on the plea of its false morality. The story takes its title +from that remarkable scholar and criminal, Eugene Aram, at one time a tutor +in the Lytton family, who was executed at York in 1759, for a murder +committed fourteen years before. The crime caused much consternation at the +time, Aram's refined and mild disposition being apparently in direct +contradiction to his real nature. The novel is an unusually successful, +though perhaps one-sided psychological study. In a revised edition Lytton +made the narrative agree with his own conclusion that, though an accomplice +in robbery, Aram was not guilty of premeditated or actual murder. Edward +Bulwer Lytton died on January 18, 1873. </blockquote> + + +<h4><i>I.--At the Sign of the Spotted Dog</i></h4> + + +<p>In the county of ---- was a sequestered hamlet, to which I shall give +the name of Grassdale. It lay in a fruitful valley between gentle and +fertile hills. Its single hostelry, the Spotted Dog, was owned by one Peter +Dealtry, a small farmer, who was also clerk of the parish. On summer +evenings Peter was frequently to be seen outside his inn discussing +psalmody and other matters with Jacob Bunting, late a corporal in his +majesty's army, a man who prided himself on his knowledge of the world, and +found Peter's too easy fund of merriment occasionally irritating.</p> + +<p>On one such evening their discussion was interrupted by an +unprepossessing and travel-stained stranger, who, when his wants, none too +amiably expressed, had been attended to, exhibited a marked curiosity +concerning the people of the locality. As the stranger paid for his welcome +with a liberal hand, Peter became more than usually communicative.</p> + +<p>He described the lord of the manor, a distinguished nobleman who lived +at the castle some six miles away. He talked of the squire and his +household. "But," he continued, "the most noticeable man is a great +scholar. There, yonder," said he, "you may just catch a glimpse of the tall +what-d'ye-call-it he has built on the top of his house that he may get +nearer to the stars."</p> + +<p>"The scholar, I suppose," observed the stranger, "is not very rich. +Learning does not clothe men nowadays, eh, corporal?"</p> + +<p>"And why should it?" asked Bunting. "Zounds! can it teach a man how to +defend his country? Old England wants soldiers. But the man's well enough, +I must own--civil, modest----"</p> + +<p>"And by no means a beggar," added Peter. "He gave as much to the poor +last winter as the squire himself. But if he were as rich as Lord----he +could not be more respected. The greatest folk in the country come in their +carriages-and-four to see him. There is not a man more talked on in the +whole county than Eugene Aram----"</p> + +<p>"What!" cried the traveller, his countenance changing as he sprang from +his seat. "What! Aram! Did you say <i>Aram</i>? Great heavens! How +strange!"</p> + +<p>"What! You know him?" gasped the astonished landlord.</p> + +<p>Instead of replying, the stranger muttered inaudible words between his +teeth. Now he strode two steps forward, clenching his hands. Now smiled +grimly. Then he threw himself upon his seat, still in silence.</p> + +<p>"Rum tantrums!" ejaculated the corporal. "What the devil! Did the man +eat your grandmother?"</p> + +<p>The stranger lifted his head, and addressing Peter, said, with a forced +smile, "You have done me a great kindness, my friend. Eugene Aram was an +early acquaintance of mine. We have not met for many years. I never guessed +that he lived in these parts."</p> + +<p>And then, directed, in answer to his inquiries, to Aram's dwelling, a +lonely grey house in the middle of a broad plain, the traveller went his +way.</p> + + +<h4><i>II.--The Squire's Guest</i></h4> + + +<p>The man the stranger went to seek was one who perhaps might have +numbered some five-and-thirty years, but at a hasty glance would have +seemed considerably younger. His frame was tall, slender, but well-knit and +fair proportioned; his cheek was pale, but with thought; his hair was long, +and of a rich, deep brown; his brow was unfurrowed; his face was one that a +physiognomist would have loved to look upon, so much did it speak of both +the refinement and the dignity of intellect.</p> + +<p>Eugene Aram had been now about two years settled in his present retreat, +with an elderly dame as housekeeper. From almost every college in Europe +came visitors to his humble dwelling, and willingly he imparted to others +any benefit derived from his lonely researches. But he proffered no +hospitality, and shrank from all offers of friendship. Yet, unsocial as he +was, everyone loved him. The peasant threw kindly pity into his respectful +greeting. Even that terror of the village, Mother Darkmans, saved her +bitterest gibes for others; and the village maiden, as she curtseyed by +him, stole a glance at his handsome but melancholy countenance, and told +her sweetheart she was certain the poor scholar had been crossed in +love.</p> + +<p>At the manor house he was often the subject of remark, but only on the +day of the stranger's appearance at the Spotted Dog had the squire found an +opportunity of breaking through the scholar's habitual reserve, and so +persuaded him to dine with him and his family on the day following.</p> + +<p>The squire, Rowland Lester, a man of cultivated tastes, was a widower, +with two daughters and a nephew. Walter, the only son of Rowland's brother +Geoffrey, who had absconded, leaving his wife and child to shift for +themselves, was in his twenty-first year, tall and strong, with a striking +if not strictly handsome face; high-spirited, jealous of the affections of +those he loved; cheerful outwardly, but given to moody reflections on his +orphaned and dependent lot, for his mother had not long survived her +desertion.</p> + +<p>Madeline Lester, at the age of eighteen, was the beauty and toast of the +whole country; with a mind no less beautiful than her form was graceful, +and a desire for study equalled only by her regard for those who possessed +it, a regard which had extended secretly, if all but unacknowledged to +herself, to the solitary scholar of whom I have been speaking. Ellinor, her +junior by two years, was of a character equally gentle, but less elevated, +and a beauty akin to her sister's.</p> + +<p>When Eugene Aram arrived at the manor house in keeping with his promise, +something appeared to rest upon his mind, from which, however, by the +excitement lent by wine and occasional bursts of eloquence, he seemed +striving to escape, and at length he apparently succeeded.</p> + +<p>When the ladies had retired, Lester and his guest resumed their talk in +the open, Walter declining to join them.</p> + +<p>Aram was advancing the view that it is impossible for a man who leads +the life of the world ever to experience content.</p> + +<p>"For me," observed the squire, "I have my objects of interest in my +children."</p> + +<p>"And I mine in my books," said Aram.</p> + +<p>As they passed over the village green, the gaunt form of Corporal +Bunting arrested their progress.</p> + +<p>"Beg pardon, your honour," said he to the scholar, "but strange-looking +dog here last evening--asked after you--said you were old friend of +his--trotted off in your direction--hope all was right, master--augh!"</p> + +<p>"All right," repeated Aram, fixing his eyes on the corporal, who had +concluded his speech with a significant wink. Then, as if satisfied with +his survey, he added, "Ay, ay; I know whom you mean. He had become +acquainted with me some years ago. I don't know--I know very little of +him." And the student was turning away, but stopped to add, "The man called +on me last night for assistance. I gave what I could afford, and he has now +proceeded on his journey. Good evening!"</p> + +<p>Lester and his companion passed on, the former somewhat surprised, a +feeling increased when shortly afterwards Aram abruptly bade him farewell. +But, recalling the peculiar habits of the scholar, he saw that the only way +to hope for a continuance of that society which had so pleased him was to +indulge Aram at first in his unsocial inclinations; and so, without further +discourse, he shook hands with him, and they parted.</p> + + +<h4><i>III.--The Old Riding-Whip</i></h4> + + +<p>When Lester regained the little parlour in his home he found his nephew +sitting, silent and discontented, by the window. Madeline had taken up a +book, and Ellinor, in an opposite corner, was plying her needle with an +earnestness that contrasted with her customary cheerful vivacity.</p> + +<p>The squire thought he had cause to complain of his nephew's conduct to +their guest. "You eyed the poor student," he said, "as if you wished him +amongst the books of Alexandria."</p> + +<p>"I would he were burnt with them!" exclaimed Walter sharply. "He seems +to have bewitched my fair cousins here into a forgetfulness of all but +himself."</p> + +<p>"Not me!" said Ellinor eagerly.</p> + +<p>"No, not you; you are too just. It is a pity Madeline is not more like +you."</p> + +<p>Thus was disturbance first introduced into a peaceful family. Walter was +jealous; he could not control his feelings. An open breach followed, not +only between him and Aram, but a quarrel between him and Madeline. The +position came as a revelation to his uncle, who, seeing no other way out of +the difficulty, yielded to Walter's request that he should be allowed to +travel.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, Aram, drawn out of his habitual solitude by the sweet +influence of Madeline, became a frequent visitor to the manor house and the +acknowledged suitor for Madeline's hand. As for Walter, when he set out for +London, with Corporal Bunting as his servant, he had found consolation in +the discovery that Ellinor's regard for him had gone beyond mere cousinly +affection. His uncle gave him several letters of introduction to old +friends; among them one to Sir Peter Hales, and another to a Mr. +Courtland.</p> + +<p>An incident that befell him on the London road revived to an +extraordinary degree Walter's desire to ascertain the whereabouts of his +long-lost father. At the request of Sir Peter Hales he had alighted at a +saddler's for the purpose of leaving a parcel committed to him, when his +attention was attracted by an old-fashioned riding-whip. Taking it up, he +found it bore his own crest, and his father's initials, "G.L." Much +agitated, he made quick inquiries, and learned that the whip had been left +for repair about twelve years previously by a gentleman who was visiting +Mr. Courtland, and had not been heard of since.</p> + +<p>Eagerly he sought out Mr. Courtland, and gleaned news which induced him, +much to Corporal Bunting's disgust, to set his back on London, and make his +way with all speed in the direction of Knaresborough. It appeared that at +the time the whip was left at the saddler's, Geoffrey Lester had just +returned from India, and when he called on his old acquaintance, Mr. +Courtland, he was travelling to the historic town in the West Riding to +claim a legacy his old colonel--he had been in the army--had left him for +saving his life. The name Geoffrey Lester had assumed on entering the army +was Clarke.</p> + + +<h4><i>IV.--Hush-Money</i></h4> + + +<p>While Walter Lester and Corporal Bunting were passing northward, the +squire of Grassdale saw, with evident complacency, the passion growing up +between his friend and his daughter. He looked upon it as a tie that would +permanently reconcile Aram to the hearth of social and domestic life; a tie +that would constitute the happiness of his daughter and secure to himself a +relation in the man he felt most inclined of all he knew to honour and +esteem. Aram seemed another man; and happy indeed was Madeline in the +change. But one evening, while the two were walking together, and Aram was +discoursing on their future, Madeline uttered a faint shriek, and clung +trembling to her lover's arm.</p> + +<p>Amazed and roused from his enthusiasm, Aram looked up, and, on seeing +the cause of her alarm, seemed himself transfixed, as by a sudden terror to +the earth.</p> + +<p>But a few paces distant, standing amidst the long and rank fern that +grew on each side of their path, quite motionless, and looking on the pair +with a sarcastic smile, stood the ominous stranger whom we first met at the +sign of the Spotted Dog.</p> + +<p>"Pardon me, dear Madeline," said Aram, softly disengaging himself from +her, "but for one moment."</p> + +<p>He then advanced to the stranger, and after a conversation that lasted +but a minute, the latter bowed, and, turning away, soon vanished among the +shrubs.</p> + +<p>Aram, regaining the side of Madeline, explained, in answer to her +startled inquiries, that the man, whom he had known well some fourteen +years ago, had again come to ask for his help, and he supposed that he +would again have to aid him.</p> + +<p>"And is that indeed <i>all</i>?" said Madeline, breathing more freely. +"Well, poor man, if he be your friend, he must be inoffensive. Here, +Eugene." And the simple-hearted girl put her purse into Aram's hand.</p> + +<p>"No, dearest," said he, shrinking back. "I can easily spare him enough. +But let us turn back. It grows chill."</p> + +<p>"And why did he leave us, Eugene?"</p> + +<p>"Because," was the reply, "I desired him to visit me at home an hour +hence."</p> + +<p>There was a past shared by these two men, and Houseman--for that was the +stranger's name--had come for the price of his silence. The next day, on +the plea of an old debt that suddenly had to be met, Aram approached his +prospective father-in-law for the loan of £300. This sum was readily +placed at his disposal. Indeed, he was offered double the amount. His next +action was to travel to London, where, with all the money at his command, +he purchased an annuity for Houseman, falling back, for his own needs, upon +the influence of Lord ---- to secure for him a small state allowance which +it was in that nobleman's power to grant to him as a needy man of +letters.</p> + +<p>Houseman was surprised at the scholar's generosity when the paper +ensuring the annuity was placed in his hands. "Before daybreak to-morrow," +he said, "I will be on the road. You may now rest assured that you are free +of me for life. Go home--marry--enjoy your existence. Within four days, if +the wind set fair, I shall be in France."</p> + +<p>The pale face of Eugene Aram brightened. He had resolved, had Houseman's +attitude been different, to surrender Madeline at once.</p> + + +<h4><i>V.--Human Bones</i></h4> + + +<p>The unexpected change in her lover's demeanour, on his return to +Grassdale, brought unspeakable joy to the heart of Madeline Lester. But +hardly had Aram left Houseman's squalid haunt in Lambeth when a letter was +put into the ruffian's hand telling of his daughter's serious illness. For +this daughter Houseman, villain as he was, would willingly have given his +life. Now, casting all other thoughts aside, he set forth, not for France, +but for Knaresborough, where his daughter was lying, and whither, guided by +his inquiries concerning his father, Walter Lester was also on his way.</p> + +<p>It was not long ere Walter found that a certain Colonel Elmore had died +in 17--, leaving £1,000 and a house to one Daniel Clarke, and that an +executor of the colonel's will survived in the person of a Mr. Jonas +Elmore. From Mr. Elmore, Walter learned that Clarke had disappeared +suddenly, after receiving the legacy, taking with him a number of jewels +with which Mr. Elmore had entrusted him. His disappearance had caused a +sensation at the time, and a man named Houseman had assigned as a cause of +Clarke's disappearance a loan which he did not mean to repay. It was true +that Houseman and a young scholar named Eugene Aram had been interrogated +by the authorities, but nothing could be proved against them, and certainly +nothing was suspected where Aram was concerned. He left Knaresborough soon +after Clarke had disappeared, having received a legacy from a relative at +York.</p> + +<p>This story of a legacy Walter was not inclined to believe, but proof of +it was forthcoming. Another circumstance in Aram's favour was that his +memory was still honoured in the town, by the curate, Mr. Summers, as well +as by others.</p> + +<p>Accompanied by Mr. Summers, Walter visited the house where Daniel Clarke +had stayed and also the woman at whose house Aram had lived. It was a +lonely, desolate-looking house; its solitary occupant a woman who evidently +had been drinking. When the name of Eugene Aram was mentioned, the woman +assumed a mysterious air, and eventually disclosed the fact that she had +seen Mr. Clarke, Houseman and Aram enter Aram's room early one morning. +They went away together. A little later Aram and Houseman returned. She +found out afterwards that they had been burning some clothes. She also +discovered a handkerchief belonging to Houseman with blood upon it. She had +shown this to Houseman, who had threatened to shoot her should she say a +word to anyone regarding himself or his companions.</p> + +<p>Armed with this narrative, extracted by the promise of pecuniary reward, +Walter and Mr. Summers were making their way to a magistrate's when their +attention was attracted by a crowd. A workman, digging for limestone, had +unearthed a big wooden chest. The chest contained a skeleton!</p> + +<p>In the midst of the commotion caused by this discovery a voice broke out +abruptly. It was that of Richard Houseman. His journey had been in vain. +His daughter was dead. His appearance revealed all too plainly to what +source he had flown for consolation.</p> + +<p>"What do ye here, fools?" he cried, reeling forward. "Ha! Human bones! +And whose may they be, think ye?"</p> + +<p>There were in the crowd those who remembered the disappearance which had +so surprised them years before, and more than one repeated the name of +"Daniel Clarke."</p> + +<p>"Clarke's bones!" exclaimed Houseman. "Ha, ha! They are no more Clarke's +than mine!"</p> + +<p>At this moment Walter stepped forward.</p> + +<p>"Behold!" he cried, in a ringing voice, vibrant with emotion--"behold +the murderer!"</p> + +<p>Pale, confused, conscience-stricken, the bewilderment of intoxication +mingling with that of fear, Houseman gasped out that if they wanted the +bones of Clarke they should search St. Robert's Cave. And in the place he +named they found at last the unhallowed burial-place of the murdered +dead.</p> + +<p>But Houseman, now roused by a sense of personal danger, denied that he +was the guilty man. Drawing his breath hard, and setting his teeth as with +steeled determination, he cried, "The murderer is Eugene Aram!"</p> + + +<h4><i>VI.--"I Murdered my Own Life"</i></h4> + + +<p>It was a chill morning in November. But at Grassdale all was bustle and +excitement. The church bells were ringing merry peals. It wanted but an +hour or so to the wedding of Eugene Aram and Madeline Lester. In this +interval the scholar was alone with his thoughts. His reverie was rudely +disturbed by a loud knocking, the noise of which penetrated into his study. +The outer door was opened. Voices were heard.</p> + +<p>"Great God!" he exclaimed. "'Murderer!' Was that the word I heard +shouted forth? The voice, too, is Walter Lester's. Can he have +learned----"</p> + +<p>Calm succeeded to the agitation of the moment. He met the newcomers with +a courageous front. But, followed by his bride who was to be, by her sister +Ellinor, and by their father, all confident that Walter had made some +horrible mistake, Eugene Aram was taken away to be committed to York on the +capital charge.</p> + +<p>The law's delays were numerous. Winter passed into spring, and spring +into summer before the trial came on. Eugene Aram's friends were numerous. +Lord ---- firmly believed in his innocence, and proffered help. But the +prisoner refused legal aid, and conducted his own defence--how ably history +records. Madeline was present at the closing scene, in her wedding dress. +Her father was all but broken in his grief for daughter and friend. Walter +was distraught by the havoc he had caused, and in doubt whether, after all, +his action had not been too impetuous. The court was deeply impressed by +the prisoner's defence. But the judge's summing-up was all against the +accused, and the verdict was "Guilty!" Madeline lived but a few hours after +hearing it.</p> + +<p>The following evening Walter obtained admittance to the condemned +cell.</p> + +<p>"Eugene Aram," he said, in tones of agony, "if at this moment you can +lay your hand on your heart, and say, 'Before God, and at peril of my soul, +I am innocent of this deed,' I will depart; I will believe you, and bear as +I may the reflection that I have been one of the unconscious agents in +condemning to a fearful death an innocent man. But if you cannot at so dark +a crisis take that oath, then, oh then, be generous, even in guilt, and let +me not be haunted through life by the spectre of a ghastly and restless +doubt!"</p> + +<p>On the eve of the day destined to be his last on earth Eugene Aram +placed in Walter's hands a paper which that young man pledged himself not +to read till Rowland Lester's grey hairs had gone to the grave. This +document set forth at length the story of Aram's early life, how he sought +knowledge amidst grinding poverty, and how, when a gigantic discovery in +science gleamed across his mind, a discovery which only lack of means +prevented him from realising to the vast benefit of truth and man, the +tempter came to him. This tempter took the form of a distant relative, +Richard Houseman, with his doctrine that "Laws order me to starve, but +self-preservation is an instinct more sacred than society," and his demand +for co-operation in an act of robbery from one Daniel Clarke, whose crimes +were many, who was, moreover, on the point of disappearing with a number of +jewels he had borrowed on false pretences.</p> + +<p>"Houseman lied," wrote the condemned man. "I did not strike the blow. I +never designed a murder. But the deed was done, and Houseman divided the +booty. My share he buried in the earth, leaving me to withdraw it when I +chose. There, perhaps, it lies still. I never touched what I had murdered +my <i>own</i> life to gain. Three days after that deed a relative, who had +neglected me in life, died and left me wealth--wealth, at least, to me! +Wealth greater than that for which I had----My ambition died in +remorse!"</p> + +<p>Houseman passed away in his own bed. But he had to be buried secretly in +the dead of night, for, ten years after Eugene Aram had died on the +scaffold, the hatred of the world survived for his accomplice. Rowland +Lester did not live long after Madeline's death. But when Walter returned +from a period of honourable service with the great Frederick of Prussia, it +was with no merely cousinly welcome that Ellinor received him.</p> + +<hr /> + + + + +<h3><a name="The_Last_Days_of_Pompeii"></a>The Last Days of Pompeii</h3> + + +<blockquote> "The Last Days of Pompeii," the most popular of Lytton's +historical romances, was begun and almost completed at Naples in the winter +of 1832-3, and was first published in 1834. The period dealt with is that +of 79 A.D., during the short reign of Titus, when Rome was at its zenith +and the picturesque Campanian city a kind of Rome-by-the-Sea. Lytton wrote +the novel some thirty years before the excavations of Pompeii had been +systematically begun; but his pictures of the life, the luxuries, the +pastimes and the gaiety of the half-Grecian colony, its worship of Isis, +its trade with Alexandria, and the early struggles of Christianity with +heathen superstition are exceptionally vivid. The creation of Nydia, the +blind flower-girl, was suggested by the casual remark of an acquaintance +that at the time of the destruction of Pompeii the sightless would have +found the easiest deliverance. </blockquote> + + +<h4><i>I.--The Athenian's Love Story</i></h4> + + +<p>Within the narrow compass of the walls of Pompeii was contained a +specimen of every gift which luxury offered to power. In its minute but +glittering shops, its tiny palaces, its baths, its forum, its theatre, its +circus--in the energy yet corruption, in the refinement yet the vice, of +its people, you beheld a model of the whole Roman Empire. It was a toy, a +plaything, a show-box, in which the gods seemed pleased to keep the +representation of the great monarchy of earth, and which they afterwards +hid from time, to give to the wonder of posterity--the moral of the maxim, +that under the sun there is nothing new.</p> + +<p>Crowded in the glassy bay were vessels of commerce and gilded galleys +for the pleasures of the rich citizens. The boats of the fishermen glided +to and fro, and afar off you saw the tall masts of the fleet under the +command of Pliny.</p> + +<p>Drawing a comrade from the crowded streets, Glaucus the Greek, newly +returned to Pompeii after a journey to Naples, bent his steps towards a +solitary part of the beach; and the two, seated on a small crag which rose +amidst the smooth pebbles, inhaled the voluptuous and cooling breeze which, +dancing over the waters, kept music with its invisible feet. There was +something in the scene which invited them to silence and reverie.</p> + +<p>Clodius, the aedile, who sought the wherewithal for his pleasures at the +gaming table, shaded his eyes from the burning sky, and calculated the +gains of the past week. He was one of the many who found it easy to enrich +themselves at the expense of his companion. The Greek, leaning upon his +hand, and shrinking not from that sun, his nation's tutelary deity, with +whose fluent light of poesy and joy and love his own veins were filled, +gazed upon the broad expanse, and envied, perhaps, every wind that bent its +pinions toward the shores of Greece.</p> + +<p>Glaucus obeyed no more vicious dictates when he wandered into the +dissipations of his time that the exhilarating voices of youth and health. +His heart never was corrupted. Of far more penetration than Clodius and +others of his gay companions deemed, he saw their design to prey upon his +riches and his youth; but he despised wealth save as the means of +enjoyment, and youth was the great sympathy that united him to them. To him +the world was one vast prison to which the sovereign of Rome was the +imperial gaoler, and the very virtues which, in the free days of Athens, +would have made him ambitious, in the slavery of earth made him inactive +and supine.</p> + +<p>"Tell me, Clodius," said the Athenian at last, "hast thou ever been in +love?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, very often."</p> + +<p>"He who has loved often," answered Glaucus, "has loved never."</p> + +<p>"Art thou, then, soberly and earnestly in love? Hast thou that feeling +which the poets describe--a feeling which makes us neglect our suppers, +forswear the theatre, and write elegies? I should never have thought it. +You dissemble well."</p> + +<p>"I am not far gone enough for that," returned Glaucus, smiling. "In +fact, I am not in love; but I could be if there but be occasion to see the +object."</p> + +<p>"Shall I guess the object? Is it not Diomed's daughter? She adores you, +and does not affect to conceal it. She is both handsome and rich. She will +bind the door-post of her husband with golden fillets."</p> + +<p>"No, I do not desire to sell myself. Diomed's daughter is handsome, I +grant; and at one time, had she not been the grandchild of a freedman, I +might have--yet, no--she carries all her beauty in her face; her manners +are not maiden-like, and her mind knows no culture save that of +pleasure."</p> + +<p>"You are ungrateful. Tell me, then, who is the fortunate virgin."</p> + +<p>"You shall hear, my Clodius. Several months ago I was sojourning at +Naples, a city utterly to my own heart. One day I entered the temple of +Minerva to offer up my prayers, not for myself more than for the city on +which Pallas smiles no longer. The temple was empty and deserted. The +recollections of Athens crowded fast and meltingly upon me. Imagining +myself still alone, my prayer gushed from my heart to my lips, and I wept +as I prayed. I was startled in the midst of my devotions, however, by a +deep sigh. I turned suddenly, and just behind me was a female. She had +raised her veil also in prayer, and when our eyes met, methought a +celestial ray shot from those dark and smiling orbs at once into my +soul.</p> + +<p>"Never, my Clodius, have I seen mortal face more exquisitely moulded. A +certain melancholy softened, and yet elevated, its expression. Tears were +rolling down her eyes. I guessed at once that she was of Athenian lineage. +I spoke to her, though with a faltering voice. 'Art thou not, too, +Athenian?' said I. At the sound of my voice she blushed, and half drew her +veil across her face. 'My forefathers' ashes,' she said, 'repose by the +waters of Ilyssus; my birth is of Naples; but my heart, as my lineage, is +Athenian.'</p> + +<p>"'Let us, then,' said I, 'make our offerings together!' And as the +priest now appeared, we stood side by side, and so followed the ceremonial +prayer. Together we touched the knees of the goddess; together we laid our +olive garlands on the altar. Silently we left the temple, and I was about +to ask her where she dwelt, when a youth, whose features resembled hers, +took her by the hand. She turned and bade me farewell, the crowd parted us, +and I saw her no more; nor when I returned to Naples after a brief absence +at Athens, was I able to discover any clue to my lost country-woman. So, +hoping to lose in gaiety all remembrance of that beautiful apparition, I +hastened to plunge myself amidst the luxuries of Pompeii. This is all my +history, I do not love but I remember and regret."</p> + +<p>So said Glaucus. But that very night, in a house at Pompeii, whither she +had come from Naples during his absence, Glaucus came face to face once +more with the beautiful lone, the object of his dreams. And no longer was +he able to say, "I do not love."</p> + + +<h4><i>II.--Arbaces, the Egyptian</i></h4> + + +<p>Amongst the wealthy dwellers in Pompeii was one who lived apart, and was +at once an object of suspicion and fear. The riches of this man, who was +known as Arbaces, the Egyptian, enabled him to gratify to the utmost the +passions which governed him--the passion of sensual indulgence and the +blind force which impelled him to seek relief from physical satiety in the +pursuit of that occult knowledge which he regarded as the heritage of his +race.</p> + +<p>In Naples, Arbaces had known the parents of Ione and her brother +Apaecides, and it was under his guardianship that they had come to Pompeii. +The confidence which, before their death, their parents had reposed in the +Egyptian was in turn fully given to him by lone and her brother. For +Apaecides the Egyptian felt nothing but contempt; the youth was to him but +an instrument that might be used by him in bending lone to his will. But +the mind of Ione, no less than the beauty of her form, appealed to Arbaces. +With her by his side, his willing slave, he saw no limit to the heights his +ambition might soar to. He sought primarily to impress her with his store +of unfamiliar knowledge. She, in turn, admired him for his learning, and +felt grateful to him for his guardianship. Apaecides, docile and mild, with +a soul peculiarly alive to religious fervour, Arbaces placed amongst the +priests of Isis, and under the special care of a creature of his own, named +Calenus. It pleased his purpose best, where Ione was concerned, to leave +her awhile surrounded by the vain youth of Pompeii, so that he might gain +by comparison.</p> + +<p>It fell not within Arbaces' plans to show himself too often to his ward. +Consequently it was some time before he became aware of the warmth of the +friendship that was growing up between Ione and the handsome Greek. He knew +not of their evening excursions on the placid sea, of their nightly +meetings at Ione's dwelling, till these had become regular happenings in +their daily lives. But one day he surprised them together, and his eyes +were suddenly opened. No sooner had the Greek departed than the Egyptian +sought to poison Ione's mind against him by exaggerating his love of +pleasure and by unscrupulously describing him as making light of Ione's +love.</p> + +<p>Following up the advantage he gained by this appeal to her pride, +Arbaces reminded Ione that she had never seen the interior of his home. It +might, he said, amuse her. "Devote then," he went on, "to the austere +friend of your youth one of these bright summer evenings, and let me boast +that my gloomy mansion has been honoured with the presence of the admired +Ione."</p> + +<p>Unconscious of the pollutions of the mansion, of the danger that awaited +her, Ione readily assented to the proposal. But there was one who, by +accident, had become aware of the nature of the spells cast by Arbaces upon +his visitors, and who was to be the humble means of saving lone from his +toils. This was the blind flower-girl Nydia.</p> + +<p>Of Thessalian extraction, and gentle nurture, Nydia had been stolen and +sold into the slavery of an ex-gladiator named Burbo, a relative of the +false priest Calenus. To save her from the cruelty of Burbo, Glaucus had +purchased her, and, in return, the blind girl had become devoted to him--so +devoted that her gentle heart was torn when he made it plain to her that +his action was prompted by mere natural kindness of heart, and that it was +his purpose to send her to Ione.</p> + +<p>But she cast all feeling of jealousy aside when she heard of Ione's +visit to the Egyptian, and quickly apprised Glaucus and Apaecides of the +fair Athenian's peril.</p> + +<p>On her arrival, Arbaces greeted Ione with deep respect. But he found it +harder than he thought to resist the charm of her presence in his house, +and in a moment of forgetful passion he declared his love for her. +"Arbaces," he declared, "shall have no ambition save the pride of obeying +thee--Ione. Ione, do not reject my love!" And as he spoke he knelt before +her.</p> + +<p>Alone, and in the grip of this singular and powerful man, Ione was not +yet terrified; the respect of his language, the softness of his voice, +reassured her; and in her own purity she felt protection. But she was +confused, astonished. It was some moments before she could recover the +power of reply.</p> + +<p>"Rise, Arbaces," said she at length. "Rise! and if thou art serious, if +thy language be in earnest----"</p> + +<p>"<i>If</i>----" said he tenderly.</p> + +<p>"Well, then, listen. You have been my guardian, my friend, my monitor. +For this new character I was not prepared. Think not," she added quickly, +as she saw his dark eyes glitter with the fierceness of his passion, "think +not that I scorn; that I am untouched; that I am not honoured by this +homage; but, say, canst thou hear me calmly?"</p> + +<p>"Ay, though the words were lightning and could blast me!"</p> + +<p>"<i>I love another</i>!" said Ione blushingly, but in a firm voice.</p> + +<p>"By the gods," shouted Arbaces, rising to his fullest height, "dare not +tell me that! Dare not mock me! It is impossible! Whom hast thou seen? Whom +known? Oh, Ione, it is thy woman's invention, thy woman's art that speaks; +thou wouldst gain time. I have surprised--I have terrified thee."</p> + +<p>"Alas!" began Ione; and then, appalled before his sudden and unlooked +for violence, she burst into tears.</p> + +<p>Arbaces came nearer to her, his breath glowed fiercely on her cheek. He +wound his arms round her; she sprang from his embrace. In the struggle a +tablet fell from her bosom. Arbaces perceived, and seized it; it was a +letter she had received that morning from Glaucus.</p> + +<p>Ione sank upon the couch, half-dead with terror.</p> + +<p>Rapidly the eyes of Arbaces ran over the writing. He read it to the end, +and then, as the letter fell from his hand, he said, in a voice of +deceitful calmness, "Is the writer of this the man thou lovest?"</p> + +<p>Ione sobbed, but answered not.</p> + +<p>"Speak!" he demanded.</p> + +<p>"It is--it is!"</p> + +<p>"Then hear me," said Arbaces, sinking his voice into a whisper. "<i>Thou +shalt go to thy tomb rather than to his arms</i>."</p> + +<p>At this instant a curtain was rudely torn aside, and Glaucus and +Apsecides appeared. There was a severe struggle, which might have had a +more sinister ending had not the marble head of a goddess, shaken from its +column, fallen upon Arbaces as he was about to stab the Greek, and struck +the Egyptian senseless to the ground. As it was, Ione was saved, and she +and her lover were then and for ever reconciled to one another.</p> + + +<h4><i>III.--The Love Philtre</i></h4> + + +<p>Clodius had not spoken without warrant when he had said that Julia, the +daughter of the rich merchant Diomed, thought herself in love with Glaucus. +But since Glaucus was denied to her, her thoughts were concentrated on +revenge. In this mood she sought out Arbaces, presenting herself as one +loving unrequitedly, and seeking in sorrow the aid of wisdom.</p> + +<p>"It is a love charm," admitted Julia, "that I would seek from thy skill. +I know not if I love him who loves me not, but I know that I would see +myself triumph over a rival. I would see him who has rejected me my suitor. +I would see her whom he has preferred in her turn despised."</p> + +<p>Very quickly Arbaces discerned Julia's secret, and when he heard that +Glaucus and Ione were shortly to be wedded, he gladly availed himself of +this opportunity to rid himself of his hated rival. But he dealt not in +love potions, he said; he would, however, take Diomed's daughter to one who +did--the witch who dwelt on the slopes of Vesuvius.</p> + +<p>He kept his promise; but the entire philtre given to Julia was one which +went direct to the brain, and the effects of which--for neither Arbaces nor +his creature, the witch, wished to place themselves within the power of the +law--were such as caused those who witnessed them to attribute them to some +supernatural agency.</p> + +<p>But once again, though less happily than on the former occasion, Nydia +was destined to be the means of thwarting the schemes of the Egyptian. The +devotion of the blind flower-girl had deepened into love for her deliverer. +She was jealous of Ione. Now, for Julia had taken her into confidence, and +both believed in the love charm, she was confronted with another rival. By +a simple ruse Nydia obtained the poisoned draught and in its place +substituted a phial of simple water.</p> + +<p>At the close of a banquet given by Diomed, to which the Greek was +invited, Julia duly administered that which she imagined to be the secret +love potion. She was disappointed when she found Glaucus coldly replace the +cup, and converse with her in the same unmoved tone as before.</p> + +<p>"But to-morrow," thought she, "to-morrow, alas for Glaucus!"</p> + +<p>Alas for him, indeed!</p> + +<p>When Glaucus arrived at his own house that evening, Nydia was waiting +for him. She had, as usual, been tending the flowers and had lingered +awhile to rest herself.</p> + +<p>"It has been warm," said Glaucus. "Wilt thou summon Davus? The wine I +have drunk heats me, and I long for some cooling drink."</p> + +<p>Here at once, suddenly and unexpectedly, the very opportunity that Nydia +awaited presented itself. She breathed quickly. "I will prepare for you +myself," said she, "the summer draught that Ione loves--of honey and weak +wine cooled in snow."</p> + +<p>"Thanks," said the unconscious Glaucus. "If Ione loves it, enough; it +would be grateful were it poison."</p> + +<p>Nydia frowned, and then smiled. She withdrew for a few moments, and +returned with the cup containing the beverage. Glaucus took it from her +hand.</p> + +<p>What would not Nydia have given then to have seen the first dawn of the +imagined love! Far different, as she stood then and there, were the +thoughts and emotions of the blind girl from those of the vain Pompeian +under a similar suspense!</p> + +<p>Glaucus had raised the cup to his lips. He had already drained about a +fourth of its contents, when, suddenly glancing upon the face of Nydia, he +was so forcibly struck by its alteration, by its intense, and painful, and +strange expression, that he paused abruptly, and still holding the cup near +his lips, exclaimed. "Why, Nydia--Nydia, art thou ill or in pain? What ails +thee, my poor child?"</p> + +<p>As he spoke, he put down the cup--happily for him, unfinished--and rose +from his seat to approach her, when a sudden pang shot coldly to his heart, +and was followed by a wild, confused, dizzy sensation at the brain.</p> + +<p>The floor seemed to glide from under him, his feet seemed to move on +air, a mighty and unearthly gladness rushed upon his spirit. He felt too +buoyant for the earth; he longed for wings--nay, it seemed as if he +possessed them. He burst involuntarily into a loud and thrilling laugh. He +clapped his hands, he bounced aloft. Suddenly this perpetual transport +passed, though only partially, away. He now felt his blood rushing loudly +and rapidly through his veins.</p> + +<p>Then a kind of darkness fell over his eyes. Now a torrent of broken, +incoherent, insane words gushed from his lips, and, to Nydia's horror, he +passed the portico with a bound, and rushed down the starlit streets, +striking fear into the hearts of all who saw him.</p> + + +<h4><i>IV.--The Day of Ghastly Night</i></h4> + + +<p>Anxious to learn if the drug had taken effect, Arbaces set out for +Julia's house on the morrow. On his way he encountered Apaecides. Hot words +passed between them, and stung by the scorn of the youth, he stabbed him +into the heart with his stylus. At this moment Glaucus came along. Quick as +thought the Egyptian struck the already half-senseless Greek to the ground, +and steeping his stylus in the blood of Apaecides, and recovering his own, +called loudly for help. The next moment he was accusing Glaucus of the +crime.</p> + +<p>For a time fortune favoured the Egyptian. Glaucus, his strong frame +still under the influence of the poison, was sentenced to encounter a lion +in the amphitheatre, with no weapon beyond the incriminating stylus. Nydia, +in her terror, confessed to the Egyptian the exchange of the love philtre. +She he imprisoned in his own house. Calenus, who had witnessed the deed, +sought Arbaces with the intention of using his knowledge to his own profit. +He, by a stratagem, was incarcerated in one of the dungeons of the +Egyptian's dwelling. The law gave Ione into the guardianship of Arbaces. +But, for a third time, Nydia was the means of frustrating the plans of +Arbaces.</p> + +<p>The blind girl, when vainly endeavouring to escape from the toils of the +Egyptian, overheard, in his garden, the conversation of Arbaces and +Calenus; and she heard the cries of Calenus from behind the door of the +chamber in which he was imprisoned. She herself was caught again by +Arbaces' servant, but she contrived to bribe her keeper to take a message +to Glaucus's friend, Sallust; and he, taking his servants to Arbaces' house +released the two captives, and reached the arena with them, to accuse +Arbaces before the multitude at the very moment when the lion was being +goaded to attack the Greek, and Arbaces' victory seemed within his +grasp.</p> + +<p>Even now the nerve of the Egyptian did not desert him. He met the charge +with his accustomed coolness. But the frenzied accusation of the priest of +Isis turned the huge assembly against him. With loud cries they rose from +their seats and poured down toward the Egyptian.</p> + +<p>Lifting his eyes at this terrible moment, Arbaces beheld a strange and +awful apparition. He beheld, and his craft restored his courage. He +stretched his hand on high; over his lofty brow and royal features there +came an expression of unutterable solemnity and command.</p> + +<p>"Behold," he shouted, with a voice of thunder, which stilled the roar of +the crowd, "behold how the gods protect the guiltless! The fires of the +avenging Orcus burst forth against the false witness of my accusers!"</p> + +<p>The eyes of the crowd followed the gesture of the Egyptian, and beheld, +with ineffable dismay, a vast vapour shooting from the summit of Vesuvius +in the form of a gigantic pine-tree; the trunk blackness, the branches +fire--a fire that shifted and wavered in its hues with every moment, now +fiercely luminous, now of a dull and dying red, that again blazed +terrifically forth with intolerable glare. The earth shook. The walls of +the theatre trembled. In the distance was heard the crash of falling roofs. +The cloud seemed to roll towards the assembly, casting forth from its bosom +showers of ashes mixed with fragments of burning stone. Then the burning +mountain cast up columns of boiling water.</p> + +<p>In the ghastly night thus rushing upon the realm of noon, all thought of +justice and of Arbaces left the minds of the terrified people. There ensued +a mad flight for the sea. Through the darkness Nydia guided Glaucus, now +partly recovered from the effects of the poisoned draught, and Ione to the +shore. Her blindness rendered the scene familiar to her alone.</p> + +<p>While Arbaces perished with the majority, these three eventually gained +the sea, and joined a group, who, bolder than the rest, resolved to hazard +any peril rather than continue on the stricken land.</p> + +<p>Utterly exhausted, Ione slept on the breast of Glaucus, and Nydia lay at +his feet. Meanwhile, showers of dust and ashes fell into the waves, +scattered their snows over the deck of the vessel they had boarded, and, +borne by the winds, descended upon the remotest climes, startling even the +swarthy African, and whirling along the antique soil of Syria and of +Egypt.</p> + +<p>Meekly, softly, beautifully dawned at last the light over the trembling +deep! The winds were sinking into rest, the foam died from the azure of +that delicious sea. Around the east thin mists caught gradually the rosy +hues that heralded the morning. Light was about to resume her reign. There +was no shout from the mariners at the dawning light--it had come too +gradually, and they were too wearied for such sudden bursts of joy--but +there was a low, deep murmur of thankfulness amidst those watchers of the +long night. They looked at each other, and smiled; they took heart. They +felt once more that there was a world around and a God above them!</p> + +<p>In the silence of the general sleep Nydia had risen gently. Bending over +the face of Glaucus, she softly kissed him. She felt for his hand; it was +locked in that of Ione. She sighed deeply, and her face darkened. Again she +kissed his brow, and with her hair wiped from it the damps of night.</p> + +<p>"May the gods bless you, Athenian!" she murmured "May you be happy with +your beloved one! May you sometimes remember Nydia! Alas! she is of no +further use on earth."</p> + +<p>With these words she turned away. A sailor, half-dozing on the deck, +heard a slight splash on the waters. Drowsily he looked up, and behind, as +the vessel bounded merrily on, he fancied he saw something white above the +waves; but it vanished in an instant. He turned round again and dreamed of +his home and children.</p> + +<p>When the lovers awoke, their first thought was of each other, their next +of Nydia. Every crevice of the vessel was searched--there was no trace of +her! Mysterious from first to last, the blind Thessalian had vanished from +the living world! They guessed her fate in silence, and Glaucus and Ione, +while they drew nearer to each other, feeling each other the world itself, +forgot their deliverance, and wept as for a departed sister.</p> + +<hr /> + + + + +<h3><a name="The_Last_of_the_Barons"></a>The Last of the Barons</h3> + + +<blockquote> A romance of York and Lancaster's "long wars," "The Last of +the Barons" was published in 1843, shortly before the death of Bulwer's +mother, when, on inheriting the Knebworth estates, he assumed the surname +of Lytton. The story is an admirably chosen historical subject, and in many +respects is worked out with even more than Lytton's usual power and effect. +Incident is crowded upon incident; revolutions, rebellions, dethronements +follow one another with amazing rapidity--all duly authenticated and +elaborated by powerful dialogue. It is thronged with historical material, +sufficient, according to one critic, to make at least three novels. The +period dealt with, 1467-1471, witnessed the rise of the trading class and +the beginning of religious freedom in England. Lytton leans to the +Lancastrian cause, with which the fortunes of one of his ancestors were +identified, and his view of Warwick is more favourable to the redoubtable +"king-maker" than that of the historians. </blockquote> + + +<h4><i>I.--Warwick's Mission to France</i></h4> + + +<p>Lacking sympathy with the monastic virtues of the deposed Henry VI., and +happy in the exile of Margaret of Anjou, the citizens of London had taken +kindly to the regime of Edward IV. In 1467 Edward still owed to Warwick the +support of the more powerful barons, as well as the favour of that portion +of the rural population which was more or less dependent upon them. But he +encouraged, to his own financial advantage, the enterprises of the +burgesses, and his marriage with Elizabeth Woodville and his favours to her +kinsfolk indicated his purpose to reign in fact as well as in name. The +barons were restless, but the rising middle-class, jealous of the old power +of the nobles, viewed with misgiving the projected marriage, at Warwick's +suggestion, of the king's sister Margaret and the brother of Louis XI. of +France.</p> + +<p>This was the position of affairs when young Marmaduke Nevile came to +London to enter the service of his relative the Earl of Warwick; and some +points of it were explained to the young man by the earl himself when he +had introduced the youth to his daughters, Isabel and Anne.</p> + +<p>"God hath given me no son," he said. "Isabel of Warwick had been a +mate for William the Norman; and my grandson, if heir to his grandsire's +soul, should have ruled from the throne of England over the realms of +Charlemagne! But it hath pleased Him Whom the Christian knight alone bows +to without shame, to order otherwise. So be it. I forgot my just +pretensions--forgot my blood--and counselled the king to strengthen his +throne by an alliance with Louis XI. He rejected the Princess Bona of Savoy +to marry widow Elizabeth Grey. I sorrowed for his sake, and forgave the +slight to my counsels. At his prayer I followed the train of the queen, and +hushed the proud hearts of the barons to obeisance. But since then this +Dame Woodville, whom I queened, if her husband mismated, must dispute this +royaulme with mine and me! A Neville, nowadays, must vail his plume to a +Woodville! And not the great barons whom it will suit Edward's policy to +win from the Lancastrians, not the Exeters and the Somersets, but the +craven varlets, and lackeys, and dross of the camp--false alike to Henry +and to Edward--are to be fondled into lordships and dandled into power. +Young man, I am speaking hotly. Richard Neville never lies nor conceals; +but I am speaking to a kinsman, am I not? Thou hearest--thou wilt not +repeat?"</p> + +<p>"Sooner would I pluck forth my tongue by the roots!" was Marmaduke's +reply.</p> + +<p>"Enough!" returned the earl, with a pleased smile. "When I come from +France I will speak more to thee. Meanwhile, be courteous to all men, +servile to none. Now to the king."</p> + +<p>Warwick sought his royal cousin at the Tower, where the court exhibited +a laxity of morals and a faculty for intrigue that were little to the stout +earl's taste.</p> + +<p>It was with manifest reluctance that Edward addressed himself to the +object of Warwick's visit.</p> + +<p>"Knowst thou not," said he, "that this French alliance, to which thou +hast induced us, displeases sorely our good traders of London?"</p> + +<p>"<i>Mort Dieu</i>!" returned Warwick bluntly. "And what business have +the flat-caps with the marriage of a king's sister? You have spoiled them, +good my lord king. Henry IV. staled not his majesty to consultation with +the mayor of his city. Henry V. gave the knighthood of the Bath to the +heroes of Agincourt, not to the vendors of cloth and spices."</p> + +<p>"Thou forgettest, man," said the king carelessly, "the occasion of those +honours--the eve before Elizabeth was crowned. As to the rest," pursued the +king, earnestly and with dignity, "I and my house have owed much to London. +Thou seest not, my poor Warwick, that these burgesses are growing up into +power. And if the sword is the monarch's appeal for his right, he must look +to contented and honest industry for his buckler in peace. This is policy, +policy, Warwick; and Louis XI. will tell thee the same truths, harsh though +they grate in a warrior's ear."</p> + +<p>The earl bowed his head.</p> + +<p>"If thou doubtest the wisdom of this alliance," he said, "it is not too +late yet. Let me dismiss my following, and cross not the seas. Unless thy +heart is with the marriage, the ties I would form are but threads and +cobwebs."</p> + +<p>"Nay," returned Edward irresolutely. "In these great state matters thy +wit is older than mine. But men do say the Count of Charolois is a mighty +lord, and the alliance with Burgundy will be more profitable to staple and +mart."</p> + +<p>"Then, in God's name so conclude it!" said the earl hastily. "Give thy +sister to the heir of Burgundy, and forgive me if I depart to the castle of +Middleham. Yet think well. Henry of Windsor is thy prisoner, but his cause +lives in Margaret and his son. There is but one power in Europe that can +threaten thee with aid to the Lancastrians. That power is France. Make +Louis thy friend and ally, and thou givest peace to thy life and thy +lineage. Make Louis thy foe, and count on plots and stratagems and treason. +Edward, my loved, my honoured liege, forgive Richard Nevile for his +bluntness, and let not his faults stand in bar of his counsels."</p> + +<p>"You are right, as you are ever, safeguard of England and pillar of my +state," said the king frankly; and pressing Warwick's arm, he added, "go to +France, and settle all as thou wilt."</p> + +<p>When Warwick had departed, Edward's eye followed him, musingly. The +frank expression of his face vanished, and with the deep breath of a man +who is throwing a weight from his heart, he muttered, "He loves me--yes; +but will suffer no one else to love me! This must end some day. I am weary +of the bondage."</p> + + +<h4><i>II.--A Dishonoured Embassy</i></h4> + + +<p>One morning, some time after Warwick's departure for France, the Lord +Hastings was summoned to the king's presence. There was news from France, +in a letter to Lord Rivers, from a gentleman in Warwick's train. The letter +was dated from Rouen, and gave a glowing account of the honours accorded to +the earl by Louis XI. Edward directed Hastings' attention to a passage in +which the writer suggested that there were those who thought that so much +intercourse between an English ambassador and the kinsman of Margaret of +Anjou boded small profit to the English king.</p> + +<p>"Read and judge, Hastings," said the king.</p> + +<p>"I observe," said Hastings, "that this letter is addressed to my Lord +Rivers. Can he avouch the fidelity of his correspondent?"</p> + +<p>"Surely, yes," answered Rivers. "It is a gentleman of my own blood."</p> + +<p>"Were he not so accredited," returned Hastings, "I should question the +truth of a man who can thus consent to play the spy upon his lord and +superior."</p> + +<p>"The public weal justifies all things," said Lord Worcester, who, with +Lord Rivers, viewed with jealous scorn the power of the Earl of +Warwick.</p> + +<p>"And what is to become of my merchant-ships," said the king, "if +Burgundy take umbrage and close its ports?"</p> + +<p>Hastings had no cause to take up the quarrel on Warwick's behalf. The +proud earl had stepped in to prevent his marriage with his sister. But +Hastings, if a foe, could be a noble one.</p> + +<p>"Beau sire," said he, "thou knowest how little cause I have to love the +Earl of Warwick. But in this council I must be all and only the king's +servant. I say first, then, that Warwick's faith to the House of York is +too well proven to become suspected because of the courtesies of King +Louis. Moreover, we may be sure that Warwick cannot be false if he achieve +the object of his embassy and detach Louis from the side of Margaret and +Lancaster by close alliance with Edward and York. Secondly, sire, with +regard to that alliance, which it seems you would repent, I hold now, as I +have held ever, that it is a master-stroke in policy, and the earl in this +proves his sharp brain worthy his strong arm; for, as his highness the Duke +of Gloucester has discovered that Margaret of Anjou has been of late in +London, and that treasonable designs were meditated, though now frustrated, +so we may ask why the friends of Lancaster really stood aloof--why all +conspiracy was, and is, in vain? Because the gold and subsidies of Louis +are not forthcoming, because the Lancastrians see that if once Lord Warwick +wins France from the Red Rose nothing short of such a miracle as their +gaining Warwick instead can give a hope to their treason."</p> + +<p>"Your pardon, my Lord Hastings," said Lord Rivers, "there is another +letter I have not yet laid before the king." He drew forth a scroll and +read from it as follows.</p> + +<p>"Yesterday the earl feasted the king, and as, in discharge of mine +office, I carved for my lord, I heard King Louis say, '<i>Pasque Dieu</i>, +my Lord Warwick, our couriers bring us word that Count de Charolais +declares he shall yet wed the Lady Margaret, and that he laughs at your +embassage. What if our brother King Edward fall back from the treaty?' 'He +durst not,' said the earl."</p> + +<p>"'Durst not!'" exclaimed Edward, starting to his feet, and striking the +table with his clenched hand. "'Durst not!' Hastings, heard you that?"</p> + +<p>Hastings bowed his head in assent.</p> + +<p>"Is that all, Lord Rivers?"</p> + +<p>"All! And, methinks, enough!"</p> + +<p>"Enough, by my halidame!" said Edward, laughing bitterly. "He shall see +what a king dares when a subject threatens."</p> + +<p>Lord Rivers had not read the whole of the letter. The sentence read: "He +durst not, because what a noble heart dares least is to belie the plighted +word, and what the kind heart shuns most is to wrong the confiding +friend."</p> + +<p>When Warwick returned, with the object of his mission achieved, it was +to find Margaret of England the betrothed of the Count de Charolais, and +his embassy dishonoured. He retired in anger and grief to his castle of +Middleham, and though the king declared that "Edward IV. reigns alone," +most of the great barons forsook him to rally round their leader in his +retirement.</p> + + +<h4><i>III.--The Scholar and his Daughter</i></h4> + + +<p>Sybill Warner had been at court in the train of Margaret of Anjou. Her +father, Adam Warner, was a poor scholar, with his heart set upon the +completion of an invention which should inaugurate the age of steam. They +lived together in an old house, with but one aged serving-woman. Even +necessaries were sacrificed that the model of the invention might be fed. +Then one day there came to Adam Warner an old schoolfellow, Robert Hilyard, +who had thrown in his lot with the Lancastrians, and become an agent of the +vengeful Margaret. Hilyard told so moving a tale of his wrongs at the hands +of Edward that the old man consented to aid him in a scheme for +communicating with the imprisoned Henry.</p> + +<p>Henry was still permitted to see visitors, and Hilyard's proposal was +that Warner should seek permission to exhibit his model, in the mechanism +of which were to be hidden certain treasonable papers for Henry to +sign.</p> + +<p>As we have seen, from Hastings' remark to the king, the plot failed. +Hilyard escaped, to stir up the peasantry, who knew him as Robin of +Redesdale. Warner's fate was inclusion in the number of astrologers and +alchemists retained by the Duchess of Bedford, who also gave a place +amongst her maidens to Sybill, to whom Hastings had proffered his devoted +attachment, though he was already bound by ties of policy and early love to +Margaret de Bonville.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, it became the interest of the king's brothers to act as +mediators between Edward and his powerful subject. The Duke of Clarence was +anxious to wed the proud earl's equally proud elder daughter Isabel; the +hand of the gentle Anne was sought more secretly by Richard of Gloucester. +At last the peacemakers effected their object.</p> + +<p>But the peace was only partial, the final rupture not far off. The king +restored to Warwick the governorship of Calais--outwardly as a token of +honour; really as a means of ridding himself of one whose presence came +between the sun and his sovereignty. Moreover, he forbade the marriage +between Clarence and Isabel, to the mortification of his brother, the +bitter disappointment of Isabel herself, and the chagrin of the earl.</p> + +<p>However, Edward had once more to experience indebtedness at the hands of +the man whom he treated so badly, but whose devotion to him it seemed that +nothing could destroy. There arose the Popular Rebellion, and Warwick only +arrived at Olney, where the king was sorely pressed, in time to save him +and to secure, on specific terms, a treaty of peace.</p> + +<p>Again Edward's relief was but momentary. Proceeding to Middleham as +Warwick's guest, when he beheld the extent of the earl's retinue his +jealous passions were roused more than ever before; and he formed a plan +not only for attaching to himself the allegiance of the barons, but of +presenting the earl to the peasants in the light of one who had betrayed +them.</p> + +<p>Smitten, too, by the charms of the Lady Anne, he meditated a still more +unworthy scheme. Dismissing the unsuspecting Warwick to the double task of +settling with the rebels and calling upon his followers to range themselves +under the royal banner, he commanded Anne's attendance at court.</p> + +<p>Events leading to the final breach between king and king-maker followed +rapidly. One night the Lady Anne fled in terror from the Tower--fled from +the dishonouring addresses of her sovereign, now grown gross in his cups, +however brave in battle. The news reached Warwick too late for him to +countermand the messages he had sent to his friends on the king's behalf. +And, so rapid were Edward's movements that Warwick, his eyes at length +opened to Edward's true character, was compelled to flee to the court of +King Louis at Amboise, there to plan his revenge, hampered in doing so by +his daughter Isabel's devotion to Clarence, who followed him to France, and +by the fact that, in regard to his own honour, he could communicate to none +save his own kin the secret cause of his open disaffection.</p> + + +<h4><i>IV.--The Return of the King-Maker</i></h4> + + +<p>There was no love between Warwick and Margaret of Anjou. But his one +means of exacting penance from Edward was alliance with the unlucky cause +of Lancaster. And this alliance was brought about by the suave diplomacy of +Louis, and the discovery of the long-existing attachment between the Lady +Anne and her old play-fellow, Edward, the only son of Henry and Margaret, +and the hope of the Red Rose.</p> + +<p>Coincidently with the marriage of Clarence and Isabel on French soil, +the young Edward and Isabel's sister were betrothed. Richard of Gloucester +was thus definitely estranged from Warwick's cause. And secret agencies +were set afoot to undermine the loyalty of the weak Clarence to the cause +which he had espoused.</p> + +<p>At first, however, Warwick's plans prospered. He returned to England, +forced Edward to fly the country in his turn, and restored Henry VI. to the +throne. So far, Clarence and Isabel accompanied him; while Margaret and her +son, with Lady Warwick and the Lady Anne, remained at Amboise.</p> + +<p>Then the very elements seemed to war against the Lancastrians. The +restoration came about in October 1470. Margaret was due in London in +November, but for nearly six months the state of the Channel was such that +she was unable to cross it.</p> + +<p>Warwick sickened of his self-imposed task. The whole burden of +government rested upon the shoulders of the great earl, great where deeds +of valour were to be done, but weak in the niceties of administration.</p> + +<p>The nobles, no less than the people, had expected miracles. The +king-maker, on his return, gave them but justice. Such was the earl's +position when Edward, with a small following, landed at Ravenspur. A +treacherous message, sent to Warwick's brother Montagu by Clarence, caused +Montagu to allow the invader to march southwards unmolested. This had so +great an effect on public feeling that when Edward reached the Midlands, he +had not a mere handful of supporters at his back, but an army of large +dimensions. Then the wavering Clarence went over to his brother, and it +fell to the lot of the earl sorrowfully to dispatch Isabel to the camp of +his enemy.</p> + +<p>But Warwick's cup of bitterness was not yet full. The Tower was +surrendered to Edward's friends, and on the following day Edward himself +entered the capital, to be received by the traders with tumultuous +cheers.</p> + +<p>Raw, cold, and dismal dawned the morning of the fateful 14th of March, +1471, when Margaret at last reached English soil, and Edward's forces met +those of Warwick on the memorable field of Barnet. All was not yet lost to +the cause of the Red Rose. But a fog settled down over the land to +complete, as it were, the disadvantages caused by the prolonged storms at +sea. At a critical period of the battle the silver stars on the banners of +one of the Lancastrians, the Earl of Oxford, being mistaken for the silver +suns of Edward's cognisance, two important sections of Warwick's army fell +upon one another. Friend was slaughtering friend ere the error was +detected. While all was yet in doubt, confusion, and dismay, rushed full +into the centre Edward himself, with his knights and riders; and his +tossing banners added to the general incertitude and panic.</p> + +<p>Warwick and his brother gained the shelter of a neighbouring wood, where +a trusty band of the earl's northern archers had been stationed. Here they +made their last stand, Warwick destroying his charger to signify to his men +that to them and to them alone he entrusted his fortunes and his life.</p> + +<p>A breach was made in the defence, and Warwick and his brother fell side +by side, choosing death before surrender. And by them fell Hilyard, +shattered by a bombard. Young Marmaduke Nevile was among the few notable +survivors.</p> + +<p>The cries of "Victory!" reached a little band of watchers gathered in +the churchyard on the hill of Hadley. Here Henry the Peaceful had been +conveyed. And here, also, were Adam Warner and his daughter. The soldiers, +hearing from one of the Duchess of Bedford's creatures whose chicanery had +been the object of his scorn, that Warner was a wizard, had desired that +his services should be utilised. Till the issue was clear, he had been kept +a prisoner. When it was beyond doubt, he was hanged. Sybill was found lying +dead at her father's feet. Her heart was already broken, for the husband of +Margaret de Bonville having died, Lord Hastings had been recalled to the +side of his old love, his thought of marriage with Sybill being abandoned +for ever.</p> + +<p>King Edward and his brothers went to render thanksgiving at St. Paul's; +thence to Baynard's Castle to escort the queen and her children once more +to the Tower.</p> + +<p>At the sight of the victorious king, of the lovely queen, and, above +all, of the young male heir, the crowd burst forth with a hearty cry: "Long +live the king and the king's son!"</p> + +<p>Mechanically, Elizabeth turned her moistened eyes from Edward to +Edward's brother, and suddenly clasped her infant closer to her bosom when +she caught the glittering and fatal eye of Richard, Duke of +Gloucester--Warwick's grim avenger in the future--fixed upon that harmless +life, destined to interpose a feeble obstacle between the ambition of a +ruthless intellect and the heritage of the English throne!</p> + +<hr /> + + + + +<h2><a name="HENRY_MACKENZIE"></a>HENRY MACKENZIE</h2> + + +<h3><a name="The_Man_of_Feeling"></a>The Man of Feeling</h3> + + +<blockquote> Henry Mackenzie, the son of an Edinburgh physician, was born +in that city on August 26, 1745. He was educated for the law, and at the +age of twenty became attorney for the crown in Scotland. It was about this +time that he began to devote his attention to literature. His first story, +"The Man of Feeling," was published anonymously in 1771, and such was its +popularity that its authorship was claimed in many quarters. Considered as +a novel, "The Man of Feeling" is frankly sentimental. Its fragmentary form +was doubtlessly suggested by Sterne's "Sentimental Journey," and the +adventures of the hero himself are reminiscent of those of Moses in "The +Vicar of Wakefield." But of these two masterpieces Mackenzie's work falls +short: it has none of Sterne's humour, nor has it any of Goldsmith's subtle +characterisation. "The Man of Feeling" was followed in 1773 by "The Man of +the World," and later by a number of miscellaneous articles and stories. +Mackenzie died on January 14, 1831. </blockquote> + + +<h4><i>I.--A Whimsical History</i></h4> + + +<p>I was out shooting with the curate on a burning First of September, and +we had stopped for a minute by an old hedge.</p> + +<p>Looking round, I discovered for the first time a venerable pile, to +which the enclosure before us belonged. An air of melancholy hung about it, +and just at that instant I saw pass between the trees a young lady with a +book in her hand. The curate sat him down on the grass and told me that was +the daughter of a neighbouring gentleman of the name of Walton, whom he had +seen walking there more than once.</p> + +<p>"Some time ago," he said, "one Harley lived there, a whimsical sort of +man, I am told. The greatest part of his history is still in my possession. +I once began to read it, but I soon grew weary of the task; for, besides +that the hand is intolerably bad, I never could find the author in one +strain for two chapters together. The way I came by it was this. Some time +ago a grave, oddish kind of a man boarded at a farmer's in this parish. He +left soon after I was made curate, and went nobody knows whither; and in +his room was found a bundle of papers, which was brought to me by his +landlord."</p> + +<p>"I should be glad to see this medley," said I.</p> + +<p>"You shall see it now," answered the curate, "for I always take it along +with me a-shooting. 'Tis excellent wadding."</p> + +<p>When I returned to town I had leisure to peruse the acquisition I had +made, and found it a little bundle of episodes, put together without art, +yet with something of nature.</p> + +<p>The curate must answer for the omissions.</p> + + +<h4><i>II.--The Man of Feeling in Love</i></h4> + + +<p>Harley lost his father, the last surviving of his parents, when he was a +boy. His education, therefore, had been but indifferently attended to; and +after being taken from a country school, the young gentleman was suffered +to be his own master in the subsequent branches of literature, with some +assistance from the pastor of the parish in languages and philosophy, and +from the exciseman in arithmetic and book-keeping.</p> + +<p>There were two ways of increasing his fortune. One of these was the +prospect of succeeding to an old lady, a distant relation, who was known to +be possessed of a very large sum in the stocks. But the young man was so +untoward in his disposition, and accommodated himself so ill to her humour, +that she died and did not leave him a farthing.</p> + +<p>The other method pointed out to him was an endeavour to get a lease of +some crown lands which lay contiguous to his little paternal estate. As the +crown did not draw so much rent as Harley could afford to give, with very +considerable profit to himself, it was imagined this lease might be easily +procured. However, this needed some interest with the great, which neither +Harley nor his father ever possessed.</p> + +<p>His neighbour, Mr. Walton, having heard of this affair, generously +offered his assistance to accomplish it, and said he would furnish him with +a letter of introduction to a baronet of his acquaintance who had a great +deal to say with the first lord of the treasury.</p> + +<p>Harley, though he had no great relish for the attempt, could not resist +the torrent of motives that assaulted him, and a day was fixed for his +departure.</p> + +<p>The day before he set out he went to take leave of Mr. Walton--there was +another person of the family to whom also the visit was intended. For Mr. +Walton had a daughter; and such a daughter!</p> + +<p>As her father had some years retired to the country, Harley had frequent +opportunities of seeing her. He looked on her for some time merely with +that respect and admiration which her appearance seemed to demand; he heard +her sentiments with peculiar attention, but seldom declared his opinions on +the subject. It would be trite to observe the easy gradation from esteem to +love; in the bosom of Harley there scarce needed a transition.</p> + +<p>Harley's first effort to interview the baronet met with no success, but +he resolved to make another attempt, fortified with higher notions of his +own dignity, and with less apprehensions of repulse. By the time he had +reached Grosvenor Square and was walking along the pavement which led to +the baronet's he had brought his reasoning to the point that by every rule +of logic his conclusions should have led him to a thorough indifference in +approaching a fellow-mortal, whether that fellow-mortal was possessed of +six or six thousand pounds a year. Nevertheless, it is certain that when he +approached the great man's door he felt his heart agitated by an unusual +pulsation.</p> + +<p>He observed a young gentleman coming out, dressed in a white frock and a +red laced waistcoat; who, as he passed, very politely made him a bow, which +Harley returned, though he could not remember ever having seen him before. +The stranger asked Harley civilly if he was going to wait on his friend the +baronet. "For I was just calling," said he, "and am sorry to find that he +is gone some days into the country."</p> + +<p>Harley thanked him for his information, and turned from the door, when +the other observed that it would be proper to leave his name, and very +obligingly knocked for that purpose.</p> + +<p>"Here is a gentleman, Tom, who meant to have waited on your master."</p> + +<p>"Your name, if you please, sir?"</p> + +<p>"Harley."</p> + +<p>"You'll remember, Tom, Harley."</p> + +<p>The door was shut.</p> + +<p>"Since we are here," said the stranger, "we shall not lose our walk if +we add a little to it by a turn or two in Hyde Park."</p> + +<p>The conversation as they walked was brilliant on the side of his +companion.</p> + +<p>When they had finished their walk and were returning by the corner of +the park they observed a board hung out of a window signifying, "An +excellent ordinary on Saturdays and Sundays." It happened to be Saturday, +and the table was covered for the purpose.</p> + +<p>"What if we should go in and dine, sir?" said the young gentleman. +Harley made no objection, and the stranger showed him the way into the +parlour.</p> + +<p>Over against the fire-place was seated a man of a grave aspect, who wore +a pretty large wig, which had once been white, but was now of a brownish +yellow; his coat was a modest coloured drab; and two jack-boots concealed +in part the well-mended knees of an old pair of buckskin breeches. Next him +sat another man, with a tankard in his hand and a quid of tobacco in his +cheek, whose dress was something smarter.</p> + +<p>The door was soon opened for the admission of dinner. "I don't know how +it is with you, gentlemen," said Harley's new acquaintance, "but I am +afraid I shall not be able to get down a morsel at this horrid mechanical +hour of dining." He sat down, however, and did not show any want of +appetite by his eating. He took upon him the carving of the meat, and +criticised the goodness of the pudding, and when the tablecloth was removed +proposed calling for some punch, which was readily agreed to.</p> + +<p>While the punch lasted the conversation was wholly engrossed by this +young gentleman, who told a great many "immensely comical stories" and +"confounded smart things," as he termed them. At last the man in the +jack-boots, who turned out to be a grazier, pulling out a watch of very +unusual size, said that he had an appointment. And the young gentleman +discovered that he was already late for an appointment.</p> + +<p>When the grazier and he were gone, Harley turned to the remaining +personage, and asked him if he knew that young gentleman. "A gentleman!" +said he. "I knew him, some years ago, in the quality of a footman. But some +of the great folks to whom he has been serviceable had him made a ganger. +And he has the assurance to pretend an acquaintance with men of quality. +The impudent dog! With a few shillings in his pocket, he will talk three +times as much as my friend Mundy, the grazier there, who is worth nine +thousand if he's worth a farthing. But I know the rascal, and despise him +as he deserves!"</p> + +<p>Harley began to despise him, too, but he corrected himself by reflecting +that he was perhaps as well entertained, and instructed, too, by this same +ganger, as he should have been by such a man of fashion as he had thought +proper to personate.</p> + + +<h4><i>III.--Harley's Success with the Baronet</i></h4> + + +<p>The card he received was in the politest style in which disappointment +could be communicated. The baronet "was under a necessity of giving up his +application for Mr. Harley, as he was informed that the lease was engaged +for a gentleman who had long served his majesty in another capacity, and +whose merit had entitled him to the first lucrative thing that should be +vacant." Even Harley could not murmur at such a disposal. "Perhaps," said +he to himself, "some war-worn officer, who had been neglected from reasons +which merited the highest advancement; whose honour could not stoop to +solicit the preferment he deserved; perhaps, with a family taught the +principles of delicacy without the means of supporting it; a wife and +children--gracious heaven!--whom my wishes would have deprived of +bread--!"</p> + +<p>He was interrupted in his reverie by someone tapping him on the +shoulder, and on turning round, he discovered it to be the very man who had +recently explained to him the condition of his gay companion.</p> + +<p>"I believe we are fellows in disappointment," said he. Harley started, +and said that he was at a loss to understand him.</p> + +<p>"Pooh! you need not be so shy," answered the other; "everyone for +himself is but fair, and I had much rather you had got it than the rascally +ganger. I was making interest for it myself, and I think I had some title. +I voted for this same baronet at the last election, and made some of my +friends do so, too; though I would not have you imagine that I sold my +vote. No, I scorn it--let me tell you I scorn it; but I thought as how this +man was staunch and true, and I find he's but a double-faced fellow after +all, and speechifies in the House for any side he hopes to make most by. A +murrain on the smooth-tongued knave, and after all to get it for this +rascal of a ganger."</p> + +<p>"The ganger! There must be some mistake," said Harley. "He writes me +that it was engaged for one whose long services--"</p> + +<p>"Services!" interrupted the other; "some paltry convenience to the +baronet. A plague on all rogues! I shall but just drink destruction to them +to-night and leave London to-morrow by sunrise."</p> + +<p>"I shall leave it, too," said Harley; and so he accordingly did.</p> + +<p>In passing through Piccadilly, he had observed on the window of an inn a +notification of the departure of a stage-coach for a place on his road +homewards; on the way back to his lodgings, he took a seat in it.</p> + + +<h4><i>IV.--He Meets an Old Acquaintance</i></h4> + + +<p>When the stage-coach arrived at the place of its destination, Harley, +who did things frequently in a way different from what other people call +natural, set out immediately afoot, having first put a spare shirt in his +pocket and given directions for the forwarding of his portmanteau. It was a +method of travelling which he was accustomed to take.</p> + +<p>On the road, about four miles from his destination, Harley overtook an +old man, who from his dress had been a soldier, and walked with him.</p> + +<p>"Sir," said the stranger, looking earnestly at him, "is not your name +Harley? You may well have forgotten my face, 'tis a long time since you saw +it; but possibly you may remember something of old Edwards? When you were +at school in the neighbourhood, you remember me at South Hill?"</p> + +<p>"Edwards!" cried Harley, "O, heavens! let me clasp those knees on which +I have sat so often. Edwards! I shall never forget that fireside, round +which I have been so happy! But where have you been? Where is Jack? Where +is your daughter?"</p> + +<p>"'Tis a long tale," replied Edwards, "but I will try to tell it you as +we walk."</p> + +<p>Edwards had been a tenant farmer where his father, grandfather, and +great-grandfather had lived before him. The rapacity of a land steward, +heavy agricultural losses, and finally the arrival of a press-gang had +reduced him to misery. By paying a certain sum of money he had been +accepted by the press-gang instead of his son, and now old Edwards was +returning home invalided from the army.</p> + +<p>When they had arrived within a little way of the village they journeyed +to, Harley stopped short and looked steadfastly on the mouldering walls of +a ruined house that stood by the roadside.</p> + +<p>"What do I see?" he cried. "Silent, unroofed, and desolate! That was the +very school where I was boarded when you were at South Hill; 'tis but a +twelve-month since I saw it standing and its benches filled with cherubs. +That opposite side of the road was the green on which they sported; see, it +is now ploughed up!"</p> + +<p>Just then a woman passed them on the road, who, in reply to Harley, told +them the squire had pulled the school-house down because it stood in the +way of his prospects.</p> + +<p>"If you want anything with the school-mistress, sir," said the woman. "I +can show you the way to her house."</p> + +<p>They followed her to the door of a snug habitation, where sat an elderly +woman with a boy and a girl before her, each of whom held a supper of bread +and milk in their hands.</p> + +<p>"They are poor orphans," the school-mistress said, when Harley addressed +her, "put under my care by the parish, and more promising children I never +saw. Their father, sir, was a farmer here in the neighbourhood, and a +sober, industrious man he was; but nobody can help misfortunes. What with +bad crops and bad debts, his affairs went to wreck, and both he and his +wife died of broken hearts. And a sweet couple they were, sir. There was +not a properer man to look on in the county than John Edwards, and so, +indeed, were all the Edwardses of South Hill."</p> + +<p>"Edwards! South Hill!" said the old soldier, in a languid voice, and +fell back in the arms of the astonished Harley.</p> + +<p>He soon recovered, and folding his orphan grandchildren in his arms, +cried, "My poor Jack, art thou gone--"</p> + +<p>"My dear old man," said Harley, "Providence has sent you to relieve +them. It will bless me if I can be the means of assisting you."</p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed, sir," answered the boy. "Father, when he was a-dying, bade +God bless us, and prayed that if grandfather lived he might send him to +support us. I have told sister," said he, "that she should not take it so +to heart. She can knit already, and I shall soon be able to dig. We shall +not starve, sister, indeed we shall not, nor shall grandfather +neither."</p> + +<p>The little girl cried afresh. Harley kissed off her tears, and wept +between every kiss.</p> + + +<h4><i>V.--The Man of Feeling is Jealous</i></h4> + + +<p>Shortly after Harley's return home his servant Peter came into his room +one morning with a piece of news on his tongue.</p> + +<p>"The morning is main cold, sir," began Peter.</p> + +<p>"Is it?" said Harley.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir. I have been as far as Tom Dowson's to fetch some barberries. +There was a rare junketting at Tom's last night among Sir Harry Benson's +servants. And I hear as how Sir Harry is going to be married to Miss +Walton. Tom's wife told it me, and, to be sure, the servants told her; but, +of course, it mayn't be true, for all that."</p> + +<p>"Have done with your idle information," said Harley. "Is my aunt come +down into the parlour to breakfast?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> + +<p>"Tell her I'll be with her immediately."</p> + +<p>His aunt, too, had been informed of the intended match between Sir Harry +Benson and Miss Walton, Harley learnt.</p> + +<p>"I have been thinking," said she, "that they are distant relations, for +the great-grandfather of this Sir Harry, who was knight of the shire in the +reign of Charles I., married a daughter of the Walton family."</p> + +<p>Harley answered drily that it might be so, but that he never troubled +himself about those matters.</p> + +<p>"Indeed," said she, "you are to blame, nephew, for not knowing a little +more of them; but nowadays it is money, not birth, that makes people +respected--the more shame for the times."</p> + +<p>Left alone, Harley went out and sat down on a little seat in the +garden.</p> + +<p>"Miss Walton married!" said he. "But what is that to me? May she be +happy! Her virtues deserve it. I had romantic dreams. They are fled."</p> + +<p>That night the curate dined with him, though his visits, indeed, were +more properly to the aunt than the nephew. He had hardly said grace after +dinner when he said he was very well informed that Sir Harry Benson was +just going to be married to Miss Walton. Harley spilt the wine he was +carrying to his mouth; he had time, however, to recollect himself before +the curate had finished the particulars of his intelligence, and, summing +up all the heroism he was master of, filled a bumper, and drank to Miss +Walton.</p> + +<p>"With all my heart," said the curate; "the bride that is to be!" Harley +would have said "bride," too, but it stuck in his throat, and his confusion +was manifest.</p> + + +<h4><i>VI.--He Sees Miss Walton and is Happy</i></h4> + + +<p>Miss Walton was not married to Sir Harry Benson, but Harley made no +declaration of his own passion after that of the other had been +unsuccessful. The state of his health appears to have been such as to +forbid any thoughts of that kind. He had been seized with a very dangerous +fever caught by attending old Edwards in one of an infectious kind. From +this he had recovered but imperfectly, and though he had no formed +complaint, his health was manifestly on the decline.</p> + +<p>It appears that some friend had at length pointed out to his aunt a +cause from which this decline of health might be supposed to proceed, to +wit, his hopeless love for Miss Walton--for, according to the conceptions +of the world, the love of a man of Harley's modest fortune for the heiress +of £4,000 a year is indeed desperate.</p> + +<p>Be that as it may, I was sitting with him one morning when the door +opened and his aunt appeared, leading in Miss Walton. I could observe a +transient glow upon his face as he rose from his seat. She begged him to +resume his seat, and placed herself on the sofa beside him. I took my +leave, and his aunt accompanied me to the door. Harley was left with Miss +Walton alone. She inquired anxiously about his health.</p> + +<p>"I believe," said he, "from the accounts which my physicians unwillingly +give me, that they have no great hopes of my recovery."</p> + +<p>She started as he spoke, and then endeavoured to flatter him into a +belief that his apprehensions were groundless.</p> + +<p>"I do not wish to be deceived," said he. "To meet death as becomes a man +is a privilege bestowed on few. I would endeavour to make it mine. Nor do I +think that I can ever be better prepared for it than now." He paused some +moments. "I am in such a state as calls for sincerity. Let that also excuse +it. It is perhaps the last time we shall ever meet." He paused again. "Let +it not offend you to know your power over one so unworthy. To love Miss +Walton could not be a crime; if to declare it is one, the expiation will be +made."</p> + +<p>Her tears were now flowing without control.</p> + +<p>"Let me entreat you," said she, "to have better hopes. Let not life be +so indifferent to you, if my wishes can put any value on it. I know your +worth--I have known it long. I have esteemed it. What would you have me +say? I have loved it as it deserved."</p> + +<p>He seized her hand, a languid colour reddened her cheek; a smile +brightened faintly in his eye. As he gazed on her it grew dim, it fixed, it +closed. He sighed, and fell back on his seat. Miss Walton screamed at the +sight.</p> + +<p>His aunt and the servants rushed into the room. They found them lying +motionless together.</p> + +<p>His physician happened to call at that instant. Every art was tried to +recover them. With Miss Walton they succeeded, but Harley was gone for +ever.</p> + +<hr /> + + + + +<h2><a name="XAVIER_DE_MAISTRE"></a>XAVIER DE MAISTRE</h2> + + +<h3><a name="A_Journey_Round_My_Room"></a>A Journey Round My Room</h3> + + +<blockquote> Count Xavier de Maistre was born in October 1763 at +Chambéry, in Savoy. When, in the war and the upheaval that followed +on the French Revolution, his country was annexed to France, he emigrated +to Russia, and being a landscape painter of fine talent, he managed to live +on the pictures which he sold. He died at St. Petersburg on June 12, 1852. +His famous "Journey Round My Room" ("Voyage autour de ma chambre") was +written in 1794 at Turin, where he was imprisoned for forty-two days over +some affair of honour. The style of his work is clearly modelled on that of +Sterne, but the ideas, which he pours out with a delightful interplay of +wit and fancy, are marked with the stamp of a fine, original mind. The work +is one of the most brilliant <i>tours de force</i> in a literature +remarkable for its lightness, grace, and charm. Being a born writer, de +Maistre whiled away his time by producing a sparkling little masterpiece, +which will be cherished long after the heavy, philosophical works written +by his elder brother, Joseph de Maistre, have mouldered into the dust. In +the lifetime of the two brothers, Joseph was regarded throughout Europe as +a man of high genius, while Xavier was looked down on as a trifler. +</blockquote> + + +<h4><i>I.--My Great Discovery</i></h4> + + +<p>How glorious it is to open a new career, and to appear suddenly in the +world of science with a book of discoveries in one's hand like an +unexpected comet sparkling in space! Here is the book, gentleman. I have +undertaken and carried out a journey of forty-two days in my room. The +interesting observations I have made, and the continual pleasure I have +felt during this long expedition, excited in me the wish to publish it; the +certitude of the usefulness of my work decided me. My heart is filled with +an inexpressible satisfaction when I think of the infinite number of +unhappy persons to whom I am now able to offer an assured resource against +the tediousness and vexations of life. The delight one finds in travelling +in one's own room is a pure joy, exempt from the unquiet jealousies of men +and independent of ill-fortune.</p> + +<p>In the immense family of men that swarm on the surface of the earth, +there is not one--no, not one (I am speaking, of course, of those who have +a room to live in)--who can, after having read this book, refuse his +approbation to the new way of travelling which I have invented. It costs +nothing, that is the great thing! Thus it is certain of being adopted by +very rich people! Thousands of persons who have never thought of travelling +will now resolve to follow my example.</p> + +<p>Come, then, let us go forth! Follow me, all ye hermits who through some +mortification in love, some negligence in friendship, have withdrawn into +your rooms far from the pettiness and infidelity of mankind! But quit your +dismal thoughts, I pray you. Every minute you lose some pleasure without +gaining any wisdom in place of it. Deign to accompany me on my travels. We +shall go by easy stages, laughing all along the road at every tourist who +has gone to Rome or Paris. No obstacle shall stop us, and, surrendering +ourselves to our imagination, we will follow it wherever it may lead +us.</p> + +<p>But persons are so curious. I am sure you would like to know why my +journey round my room lasted forty-two days instead of forty-three, or some +other space of time. But how can I tell you when I do not know myself? All +I can say is that if you find my work too long, it was not my fault. In +spite of the vanity natural in a traveller, I should have been very glad if +it had only run a single chapter. The fact is, that though I was allowed in +my room all the pleasures and comfort possible, I was not permitted to +leave it when I wished.</p> + +<p>Is there anything more natural and just than to fight to the death with +a man who has inadvertently trodden on your foot, or let fall some sharp +words in a moment of vexation of which your imprudence was the cause? +Nothing, you will admit, is more logical; and yet there are some people who +disapprove of this admirable custom.</p> + +<p>But, what is still more natural and logical, the very people who +disapprove it and regard it as a grave crime treat with greater rigour any +man who refuses to commit it. Many an unhappy fellow has lost his +reputation and position through conforming with their views, so that if you +have the misfortune to be engaged in what is called "an affair of honour," +it is best to toss up to see if you should follow the law or the custom; +and as the law and the custom in regard to duelling are contradictory, the +magistrates would also do well to frame their sentence on the throw of the +dice. Probably, it was in this way that they determined that my journey +should last exactly forty-two days.</p> + + +<h4><i>II.--My Armchair and my Bed</i></h4> + + +<p>My chamber forms a square, round which I can take thirty-six steps, if I +keep very close to the wall. But I seldom travel in a straight line. I +dislike persons who are such masters of their feet and of their ideas that +they can say: "To-day I shall make three calls, I shall write four letters, +I shall finish this work that I have begun." So rare are the pleasures +scattered along our difficult path in life, that we must be mad not to turn +out of our way and gather anything of joy which is within our reach.</p> + +<p>To my mind, there is nothing more attractive than to follow the trail of +one's ideas, like a hunter tracking down game, without holding to any road. +I like to zigzag about. I set out from my table to the picture in the +corner. From there I journey obliquely towards the door; but if I come upon +my armchair I stand on no ceremonies, but settle myself in it at once. 'Tis +an excellent piece of furniture, an armchair, and especially useful to a +meditative man. In long winter evenings it is sometimes delightful and +always wise to stretch oneself in it easily, far from the din of the +numerous assemblies.</p> + +<p>After my armchair, in walking towards the north I discover my bed, which +is placed at the end of my room, and there forms a most agreeable +perspective. So happily is it arranged that the earliest rays of sunlight +come and play on the curtains. I can see them, on fine summer mornings, +advancing along the white wall with the rising sun; some elms, growing +before my window, divide them in a thousand ways, and make them dance on my +bed, which, by their reflection, spread all round the room the tint of its +own charming white and rose pattern. I hear the twittering of the swallows +that nest in the roof, and of other birds in the elms; a stream of charming +thoughts flows into my mind, and in the whole world nobody has an awakening +as pleasant and as peaceful as mine.</p> + + +<h4><i>III.--The Beast</i></h4> + + +<p>Only metaphysicians must read this chapter. It throws a great light on +the nature of man. I cannot explain how and why I burnt my fingers at the +first steps I made in setting out on my journey around my room, until I +expose my system of the soul and the beast. In the course of diverse +observations I have found out that man is composed of a soul and a +beast.</p> + +<p>It is often said that man is made up of a soul and a body, and this body +is accused of doing all sorts of wrong things. In my opinion, there is no +ground for such accusations, for the body is as incapable of feeling as it +is of thinking. The beast is the creature on whom the blame should be laid. +It is a sensible being, perfectly distinct from the soul, a veritable +individual, with its separate existence, tastes, inclinations, and will; it +is superior to other animals only because it has been better brought up, +and endowed with finer organs. The great art of a man of genius consists in +knowing how to train his beast so well that it can run alone, while the +soul, delivered from its painful company, rises up into the heavens. I must +make this clear by an example.</p> + +<p>One day last summer I was walking along on my way to the court. I had +been painting all the morning, and my soul, delighted with her meditation +on painting, left to the beast the care of transporting me to the king's +palace.</p> + +<p>"What a sublime art painting is!" thought my soul. "Happy is the man who +has been touched by the spectacle of nature, who is not compelled to paint +pictures for a living, and still less just to pass the time away; but who, +struck by the majesty of a fine physiognomy and by the admirable play of +light that blends in a thousand tints on a human face, tries to approach in +his works the sublime effects of nature!"</p> + +<p>While my soul was making these reflections, the beast was running its +own way. Instead of going to court, as it had been ordered to, it swerved +so much to the left that at the moment when my soul caught it up, it was at +the door of Mme. de Hautcastel's house, half a mile from the palace.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>If it is useful and pleasant to have a soul so disengaged from the +material world that one can let her travel all alone when one wishes to, +this faculty is not without its inconveniences. It was through it, for +instance, that I burnt my fingers. I usually leave to my beast the duty of +preparing my breakfast. It toasts my bread and cuts it in slices. Above +all, it makes coffee beautifully, and it drinks it very often without my +soul taking part in the matter, except when she amuses herself with +watching the beast at work. This, however, is rare, and a very difficult +thing to do.</p> + +<p>It is easy, during some mechanical act, to think of something else; but +it is extremely difficult to study oneself in action, so to speak; or, to +explain myself according to my own system, to employ one's soul in +examining the conduct of one's beast, to see it work without taking any +part. This is really the most astonishing metaphysical feat that man can +execute.</p> + +<p>I had laid my tongs on the charcoal to toast my bread, and some time +after, while my soul was on her travels, a flaming stump rolled on the +grate; my poor beast went to take up the tongs, and I burnt my fingers.</p> + + +<h4><i>IV.--A Great Picture</i></h4> + + +<p>The first stage of my journey round my room is accomplished. While my +soul has been explaining my new system of metaphysic, I have been sitting +in my armchair in my favourite attitude, with the two front feet raised a +couple of inches off the floor. By swaying my body to and fro, I have +insensibly gained ground, and I find myself with a start close to the wall. +This is the way in which I travel when I am not in a hurry.</p> + +<p>My chamber is hung with prints and paintings which embellish it in an +admirable manner. I should like the reader to examine them one after the +other, and to entertain himself during the long journey that we must make +in order to arrive at my desk. Look, here is a portrait of Raphael. Beside +it is a likeness of the adorable lady whom he loved.</p> + +<p>But I have something still finer than these, and I always reserve it for +the last. I find that both connoisseurs and ignoramuses, both women of the +world and little children, yes, and even animals, are pleased and +astonished by the way in which this sublime work renders every effect in +nature. What picture can I present to you, gentlemen; what scene can I put +beneath your lovely eyes, ladies, more certain of winning your favour than +the faithful image of yourselves? The work of which I speak is a +looking-glass, and nobody up to the present has taken it into his head to +criticise it; it is, for all those who study it, a perfect picture in which +there is nothing to blame. It is thus the gem of my collection.</p> + +<p>You see this withered rose? It is a flower of the Turin carnival of last +year. I gathered it myself at Valentin's, and in the evening, an hour +before the ball, I went full of hope and joy to present it to Mme. de +Hautcastel. She took it, and placed it on her dressing-table without +looking at it, and without looking at me. But how could she take any notice +of me? Standing in an ectasy before a great mirror, she was putting the +last touches to her finery. So totally was she absorbed in the ribbons, the +gauzes, the ornaments heaped up before her, that I could not obtain a +glance, a sign. I finished my losing patience, and being unable to resist +the feeling of anger that swept over me, I took up the rose and walked out +without taking leave of my sweetheart.</p> + +<p>"Are you going?" she said, turning round to see her figure in +profile.</p> + +<p>I did not answer, but I listened at the door to learn if my brusque +departure produced any effect.</p> + +<p>"Do you not see," exclaimed Mme. de Hautcastel to her maid, after a +short silence, "that this pelisse is much too full at the bottom? Get some +pins and make a tuck in it."</p> + +<p>That is how I come to have a withered rose on my desk. I shall make no +reflections on the affair. I shall not even draw any conclusions from it +concerning the force and duration of a woman's love.</p> + +<p>My forty-two days are coming to an end, and an equal space of time would +not suffice to describe the rich country in which I am now travelling, for +I have at last reached my bookshelf. It contains nothing but novels--yes, I +shall be candid--nothing but novels and a few choice poets. As though I had +not enough troubles of my own, I willingly share in those of a thousand +imaginary persons, and I feel them as keenly as if they were mine. What +tears have I shed over the unhappiness of Clarissa!</p> + +<p>But if I thus seek for feigned afflictions, I find, in compensation, in +this imaginary world, the virtue, the goodness, the disinterestedness which +I have been unable to discover together in the real world in which I exist. +It is there that I find the wife that I desire, without temper, without +lightness, without subterfuge; I say nothing about beauty--you can depend +on my imagination for that! Then, closing the book which no longer answers +to my ideas, I take her by the hand, and we wander together through a land +a thousand times more delicious than that of Eden. What painter can depict +the scene of enchantment in which I have placed the divinity of my heart? +But when I am tired of love-making I take up some poet, and set out again +for another world.</p> + + +<h4><i>V.--In Prison Again</i></h4> + + +<p>O charming land of imagination which has been given to men to console +them for the realities of life, it is time for me to leave thee! This is +the day when certain persons pretend to give me back my freedom, as though +they had deprived me of it! As though it were in their power to take it +away from me for a single instant, and to hinder me from scouring as I +please the vast space always open before me! They have prevented me from +going out into a single town--Turin, a mere point on the earth--but they +have left to me the entire universe; immensity and eternity have been at my +service.</p> + +<p>To-day, then, I am free, or rather I am going to be put back into irons. +The yoke of business is again going to weigh me down; I shall not be able +to take a step which is not measured by custom or duty. I shall be +fortunate if some capricious goddess does not make me forget one and the +other, and if I escape from this new and dangerous captivity.</p> + +<p>Oh, why did they not let me complete my journey! Was it really to punish +me that they confined me in my room? In this country of delight which +contains all the good things, all the riches of the world? They might as +well have tried to chastise a mouse by shutting him up in a granary.</p> + +<p>Yet never have I perceived more clearly that I have a double nature. All +the time that I am regretting my pleasures of the imagination, I feel +myself consoled by force. A secret power draws me away. It tells me that I +have need of the fresh air and the open sky, and that solitude resembles +death. So here am I dressed and ready. My door opens; I am rambling under +the spacious porticoes of the street of Po; a thousand charming phantoms +dance before my eyes. Yes, this is her mansion, this is the door; I tremble +with anticipation.</p> + +<hr /> + + + + +<h2><a name="SIR_THOMAS_MALORY"></a>SIR THOMAS MALORY</h2> + + +<h3><a name="Morte_dArthur"></a>Morte d'Arthur</h3> + + +<blockquote> Little is known of Sir Thomas Malory, who, according to +Caxton, "did take out of certain French books a copy of the noble histories +of King Arthur and reduced it to English." We learn from the text that +"this book was finished in the ninth year of the reign of King Edward the +Fourth, by Sir Thomas Malory, Knight." That would be in the year 1469. +Malory is said to have been a Welshman. The origin of the Arthurian romance +was probably Welsh. Its first literary form was in Geoffrey of Monmouth's +prose, in 1147. Translated into French verse, and brightened in the +process, these legends appear to have come back to us, and to have received +notable additions from Walter Map (1137-1209), another Welshman. A second +time they were worked on and embellished by the French romanticists, and +from these later versions Malory appears to have collated the materials for +his immortal translation. The story of Arthur and Launcelot is the thread +of interest followed in this epitome. </blockquote> + + +<h4><i>I.--The Coming of Arthur</i></h4> + + +<p>It befell in the days of the noble Utherpendragon, when he was King of +England, there was a mighty and noble duke in Cornwall, named the Duke of +Tintagil, that held long war against him. And the duke's wife was called a +right fair lady, and a passing wise, and Igraine was her name. And the +duke, issuing out of the castle at a postern to distress the king's host, +was slain. Then all the barons, by one assent, prayed the king of accord +between the Lady Igraine and himself. And the king gave them leave, for +fain would he have accorded with her; and they were married in a morning +with great mirth and joy.</p> + +<p>When the Queen Igraine grew daily nearer the time when the child Arthur +should be born, Merlin, by whose counsel the king had taken her to wife, +came to the king and said: "Sir, you must provide for the nourishing of +your child. I know a lord of yours that is a passing true man, and +faithful, and he shall have the nourishing of your child. His name is Sir +Ector, and he is a lord of fair livelihood." "As thou wilt," said the king, +"be it." So the child was delivered unto Merlin, and he bare it forth unto +Sir Ector, and made a holy man to christen him, and named him Arthur.</p> + +<p>But, within two years, King Uther fell sick of a great malady, and +therewith yielded up the ghost, and was interred as belonged unto a king; +wherefore Igraine the queen made great sorrow, and all the barons.</p> + +<p>Then stood the realm in great jeopardy a long while, for many weened to +have been king. And Merlin went to the Archbishop of Canterbury, and +counselled him to send for all the lords of the realm, and all the +gentlemen of arms, to London before Christmas, upon pain of cursing, that +Jesus, of His great mercy, should show some miracle who should be rightwise +king. So in the greatest church of London there was seen against the high +altar a great stone and in the midst thereof there was an anvil of steel, +and therein stuck a fair sword, naked by the point, and letters of gold +were written about the sword that said, "Whoso pulleth out this sword of +this stone and anvil is rightwise king born of England."</p> + +<p>And many essayed, but none might stir the sword.</p> + +<p>And on New Year's Day the barons made a joust, and Sir Ector rode to the +jousts; and with him rode Sir Kaye, his son, and young Arthur, that was his +nourished brother.</p> + +<p>And Sir Kaye, who was made knight at Allhallowmas afore, had left his +sword at his father's lodging, and so prayed young Arthur to ride for it. +Then Arthur said to himself, "I will ride to the churchyard and take the +sword that sticketh in the stone for my brother Kaye." And so, lightly and +fiercely, he pulled it out of the stone, and took horse and delivered to +Sir Kaye the sword. "How got you this sword?" said Sir Ector to Arthur. +"Sir, I will tell you," said Arthur; "I pulled it out of the stone without +any pain." "Now," said Sir Ector, "I understand you must be king of this +land." "Wherefore I?" said Arthur. "And for what cause?" "Sir," said Sir +Ector, "for God will have it so." And therewithal Sir Ector kneeled down to +the earth, and Sir Kaye also.</p> + +<p>Then Sir Ector told him all how he had betaken him to nourish him; and +Arthur made great moan when he understood that Sir Ector was not his +father.</p> + +<p>And at the Feast of Pentecost all manner of men essayed to pull out the +sword, and none might prevail but Arthur, who pulled it out before all the +lords and commons. And the commons cried, "We will have Arthur unto our +king." And so anon was the coronation made.</p> + +<p>And Merlin said to King Arthur, "Fight not with the sword that you had +by miracle till you see that you go to the worst, then draw it out and do +your best." And the sword, Excalibur, was so bright that it gave light like +thirty torches.</p> + + +<h4><i>II.--The Marriage of Arthur</i></h4> + + +<p>In the beginning of King Arthur, after that he was chosen king by +adventure and by grace, for the most part the barons knew not that he was +Utherpendragon's son but as Merlin made it openly known. And many kings and +lords made great war against him for that cause, but King Arthur full well +overcame them all; for the most part of the days of his life he was much +ruled by the counsel of Merlin. So it befell on a time that he said unto +Merlin, "My barons will let me have no rest, but needs they will have that +I take a wife, and I will none take but by thy advice."</p> + +<p>"It is well done," said Merlin, "for a man of your bounty and nobleness +should not be without a wife. Now, is there any fair lady that ye love +better than another?"</p> + +<p>"Yea," said Arthur; "I love Guinever, the king's daughter, of the land +of Cameliard. This damsel is the gentlest and fairest lady I ever could +find."</p> + +<p>"Sir," said Merlin, "she is one of the fairest that live, and as a man's +heart is set he will be loth to return."</p> + +<p>But Merlin warned the king privily that Guinever was not wholesome for +him to take to wife, for he warned him that Launcelot should love her, and +she him again. And Merlin went forth to King Leodegraunce, of Cameliard, +and told him of the desire of the king that he would have to his wife +Guinever, his daughter. "That is to me," said King Leodegraunce, "the best +tidings that ever I heard; and I shall send him a gift that shall please +him, for I shall give him the Table Round, the which Utherpendragon gave +me; and when it is full complete there is a place for a hundred and fifty +knights; and a hundred good knights I have myself, but I lack fifty, for so +many have been slain in my days."</p> + +<p>And so King Leodegraunce delivered his daughter, Guinever, to Merlin, +and the Table Round, with the hundred knights, and they rode freshly and +with great royalty, what by water and what by land.</p> + +<p>And when Arthur heard of the coming of Guinever and the hundred knights +of the Round Table he made great joy; and in all haste did ordain for the +marriage and coronation in the most honourable wise that could be devised. +And Merlin found twenty-eight good knights of prowess and worship, but no +more could he find. And the Archbishop of Canterbury was sent for, and +blessed the seats of the Round Table with great devotion.</p> + +<p>Then was the high feast made ready, and the king was wedded at Camelot +unto Dame Guinever, in the Church of St. Steven's, with great +solemnity.</p> + + +<h4><i>III.--Sir Launcelot and the King</i></h4> + + +<p>And here I leave off this tale, and overskip great books of Merlin, and +Morgan le Fay, and Sir Balin le Savage, and Sir Launcelot du Lake, and Sir +Galahad, and the Book of the Holy Grail, and the Book of Elaine, and come +to the tale of Sir Launcelot, and the breaking up of the Round Table.</p> + +<p>In the merry month of May, when every heart flourisheth and rejoiceth, +it happened there befel a great misfortune, the which stinted not till the +flower of the chivalry of all the world was destroyed and slain.</p> + +<p>And all was along of two unhappy knights named Sir Agravaine and Sir +Mordred, that were brethren unto Sir Gawaine. For these two knights had +ever privy hate unto the queen, and unto Sir Launcelot. And Sir Agravaine +said openly, and not in counsel, "I marvel that we all be not ashamed to +see and know how Sir Launcelot cometh daily and nightly to the queen, and +it is shameful that we suffer so noble a king to be ashamed." Then spake +Sir Gawaine, "I pray you have no such matter any way before me, for I will +not be of your counsel." And so said his brothers, Sir Gaheris and Sir +Gareth. "Then will I," said Sir Mordred. And with these words they came to +King Arthur, and told him they could suffer it no longer, but must tell +him, and prove to him that Sir Launcelot was a traitor to his person.</p> + +<p>"I would be loth to begin such a thing," said King Arthur, "for I tell +you Sir Launcelot is the best knight among you all." For Sir Launcelot had +done much for him and for his queen many times, and King Arthur loved him +passing well.</p> + +<p>Then Sir Agravaine advised that the king go hunting, and send word that +he should be out all that night, and he and Sir Mordred, with twelve +knights of the Round Table should watch the queen. So on the morrow King +Arthur rode out hunting.</p> + +<p>And Sir Launcelot told Sir Bors that night he would speak with the +queen. "You shall not go this night by my counsel," said Sir Bors.</p> + +<p>"Fair nephew," said Sir Launcelot, "I marvel me much why ye say this, +sithence the queen hath sent for me." And he departed, and when he had +passed to the queen's chamber, Sir Agravaine and Sir Mordred, with twelve +knights, cried aloud without, "Traitor knight, now art thou taken!"</p> + +<p>But Sir Launcelot after he had armed himself, set the chamber door wide +open, and mightily and knightly strode among them, and slew Sir Agravaine +and twelve of his fellows, and wounded Sir Mordred, who fled with all his +might, and came straight to King Arthur, wounded and beaten, and all +be-bled.</p> + +<p>"Alas!" said the king, "now am I sure the noble fellowship of the Round +Table is broken for ever, for with Launcelot will hold many a noble +knight."</p> + +<p>And the queen was adjudged to death by fire, for there was none other +remedy but death for treason in those days. Then was Queen Guinever led +forth without Carlisle, and despoiled unto her smock, and her ghostly +father was brought to her to shrive her of her misdeeds; and there was +weeping and wailing and wringing of hands.</p> + +<p>But anon there was spurring and plucking up of horses, for Sir Launcelot +and many a noble knight rode up to the fire, and none might withstand him. +And a kirtle and gown were cast upon the queen, and Sir Launcelot rode his +way with her to Joyous Gard, and kept her as a noble knight should.</p> + +<p>Then came King Arthur and Sir Gawaine, whose brothers, Sir Gaheris and +Sir Gareth, had been slain by Sir Launcelot unawares, and laid a siege to +Joyous Gard. And Launcelot had no heart to fight against his lord, King +Arthur; and Arthur would have taken his queen again, and would have +accorded with Sir Launcelot, but Sir Gawaine would not suffer him. Then the +Pope called unto him a noble clerk, the Bishop of Rochester, and gave him +bulls, under lead, unto King Arthur, charging him that he take his queen, +Dame Guinever, to him again, and accord with Sir Launcelot. And as for the +queen, she assented. And the bishop had of the king assurance that Sir +Launcelot should come and go safe. So Sir Launcelot delivered the queen to +the king, who assented that Sir Launcelot should not abide in the land past +fifteen days.</p> + +<p>Then Sir Launcelot sighed, and said these words, "Truly me repenteth +that ever I came into this realm, that I should be thus shamefully +banished, undeserved, and causeless." And unto Queen Guinever he said, +"Madam, now I must depart from you and this noble fellowship for ever; and +since it is so, I beseech you pray for me, and send me word if ye be noised +with any false tongues." And therewith Launcelot kissed the queen, and said +openly, "Now let me see what he be that dare say the queen is not true to +King Arthur--let who will speak, and he dare!" And he took his leave and +departed, and all the people wept.</p> + + +<h4><i>IV.--The Passing of Arthur</i></h4> + + +<p>Now, to say the truth, Sir Launcelot and his nephews were lords of the +realm of France, and King Arthur and Sir Gawaine made a great host ready +and shipped at Cardiff, and made great destruction and waste on his lands. +And Arthur left the governance of all England to Sir Mordred. And Sir +Mordred caused letters to be made that specified that King Arthur was slain +in battle with Sir Launcelot; wherefore Sir Mordred made a parliament, and +they chose him king, and he was crowned at Canterbury. But Queen Guinever +came to London, and stuffed it with victuals, and garnished it with men, +and kept it.</p> + +<p>Then King Arthur raised the siege on Sir Launcelot, and came homeward +with a great host to be avenged on Sir Mordred. And Sir Mordred drew +towards Dover to meet him, and most of England held with Sir Mordred, the +people were so new-fangled.</p> + +<p>Then was there launching of great boats and small, and all were full of +noble men of arms, and there was much slaughter of gentle knights; but King +Arthur was so courageous none might let him to land; and his knights +fiercely followed him, and put back Sir Mordred, and he fled.</p> + +<p>But Sir Gawaine was laid low with a blow smitten on an old wound given +him by Sir Launcelot. Then Sir Gawaine, after he had been shriven, wrote +with his own hand to Sir Launcelot, flower of all noble knights: "I beseech +thee, Sir Launcelot, return again to this realm, and see my tomb, and pray +some prayer more or less for my soul. Make no tarrying but come with thy +noble knights and rescue that noble king that made thee knight, for he is +straitly bestood with a false traitor." And so Sir Gawaine betook his soul +into the hands of our Lord God.</p> + +<p>And many a knight drew unto Sir Mordred and many unto King Arthur, and +never was there seen a dolefuller battle in a Christian land. And they +fought till it was nigh night, and there were a hundred thousand laid dead +upon the down.</p> + +<p>"Alas! that ever I should see this doleful day," said King Arthur, "for +now I come unto mine end. But would to God that I wist where that traitor +Sir Mordred is, which hath caused all this mischief."</p> + +<p>Then was King Arthur aware where Sir Mordred leaned upon his sword, and +there King Arthur smote Sir Mordred throughout the body more than a fathom, +and Sir Mordred smote King Arthur with his sword held in both hands on the +side of the head, that the sword pierced the helmet and the brain-pan. And +Sir Mordred fell dead; and the noble King Arthur fell in a swoon, and Sir +Lucan and Sir Bedivere laid him in a little chapel not far from the +sea-side.</p> + +<p>And when he came to himself again, he said unto Sir Bedivere, "Take thou +Excalibur, my good sword, and throw it into that water." And when Sir +Bedivere (at the third essay) threw the sword into the water, as far as he +might, there came an arm and a hand above the water, and met and caught it, +and so shook and brandished it thrice; and then the hand vanished away with +the sword in the water.</p> + +<p>Then Sir Bedivere bore King Arthur to the water's edge, and fast by the +bank hovered a little barge, and there received him three queens with great +mourning. And Arthur said, "I will unto the vale of Avillon for to heal me +of my grievous wound, and if thou never hear more of me, pray for my soul." +And evermore the ladies wept.</p> + +<p>And in the morning Sir Bedivere was aware between two hills of a chapel +and a hermitage; and he saw there a hermit fast by a tomb newly graven. And +the hermit said, "My son, here came ladies which brought this corpse and +prayed me to bury him."</p> + +<p>"Alas," said Sir Bedivere, "that was my lord, King Arthur."</p> + +<p>And when Queen Guinever understood that her lord, King Arthur, was +slain, she stole away and went to Almesbury, and made herself a nun, and +was abbess and ruler as reason would.</p> + +<p>And Sir Launcelot passed over into England, and prayed full heartily at +the tomb of Sir Gawaine, and then rode alone to find Queen Guinever. And +when Sir Launcelot was brought unto her, she said: "Through this knight and +me all the wars were wrought, and through our love is my noble lord slain; +therefore, Sir Launcelot, I require thee that thou never look me more in +the visage."</p> + +<p>And Sir Launcelot said: "The same destiny ye have taken you unto I will +take me unto." And he besought the bishop that he might be his brother; +then he put a habit on Sir Launcelot, and there he served God day and +night, with prayers and fastings.</p> + +<p>And when Queen Guinever died Sir Launcelot buried her beside her lord, +King Arthur. Then mourned he continually until he was dead, so within six +weeks after they found him stark dead, and he lay as he had smiled. Then +there was weeping and dolor out of measure. And they buried Sir Launcelot +with great devotion.</p> + +<hr /> + + + + +<h2><a name="ANNE_MANNING"></a>ANNE MANNING</h2> + + +<h3><a name="The_Household_of_Sir_Thomas_More"></a>The Household of Sir +Thomas More</h3> + + +<blockquote> Anne Manning, one of the most active women novelists of Queen +Victoria's reign, was born in London on February 17, 1807. Her first book, +"A Sister's Gift: Conversations on Sacred Subjects," was written in the +form of lessons for her brothers and sisters, and published at her own +expense in 1826. It was followed in 1831 by "Stories from the History of +Italy," and in 1838 her first work of fiction, "Village Belles," made its +appearance. In their day Miss Manning's novels had a great vogue, only +equalled by her amazing output. Altogether some fifty-one stories appeared +under her name, of which the best remembered is "The Household of Sir +Thomas More," an imaginary diary written by More's daughter, Margaret. +After appearing in "Sharpe's Magazine," it was published in book form in +1860. It is wonderfully vivid, and is written with due regard to historical +facts. It is interesting to compare it with the "Life of Sir Thomas More," +written by William Roper, Margaret More's husband, with which it is now +frequently reprinted. Miss Manning died on September 14, 1879. +</blockquote> + + +<h4><i>I.--Of the Writing of My Libellus</i></h4> + + +<p class="date"><i>Chelsea, June</i> 18.</p> + +<p>On asking Mr. Gunnel to what use I should put this fayr <i>Libellus</i>, +he did suggest my making it a kinde of family register, wherein to note the +more important of our domestic passages, whether of joy or griefe--my +father's journies and absences--the visits of learned men, theire notable +sayings, etc. "You are ready at the pen, Mistress Margaret," he was pleased +to say, "and I woulde humblie advise your journaling in the same fearless +manner in the which you framed that letter which so well pleased the Bishop +of Exeter that he sent you a Portugal piece. 'Twill be well to write it in +English, which 'tis expedient for you not altogether to negleckt, even for +the more honourable Latin."</p> + +<p>Methinks I am close upon womanhood. My master Gonellus doth now "humblie +advise" her he hath so often chid. 'Tis well to make trial of his "humble" +advice.</p> + +<p>...As I traced the last word methoughte I heard the well-known tones of +Erasmus, his pleasant voyce, and indeede here is the deare little man +coming up from the riverside with my father, who, because of the heat, had +given his cloak to a tall stripling behind him to bear, I flew upstairs, to +advertise mother, and we found 'em alreadie in the hall.</p> + +<p>So soon as I had obtayned their blessings, the tall lad stept forth, and +who should he be but William Roper, returned from my father's errand +overseas! His manners are worsened, for he twice made to kiss me and drew +back. I could have boxed his ears, 'speciallie as father, laughing, cried, +"The third time's lucky!"</p> + +<p>After supper, we took deare Erasmus entirely over the house, in a kind +of family procession. In our own deare Academia, with its glimpse of the +cleare-shining Thames, Erasmus noted and admired our cut flowers, and +glanced, too, at the books on our desks--Bessy's being Livy; Daisy's, +Sallust; and mine, St. Augustine, with father's marks where I was to read, +and where desist. He tolde Erasmus, laying hand fondlie on my head, "Here +is one who knows what is implied in the word 'trust.'" Dear father, well I +may! Thence we visitted the chapel, and gallery, and all the dumb kinde. +Erasmus doubted whether Duns Scotus and the Venerable Bede had been +complimented in being made name-fathers to a couple of owls; but he said +Argus and Juno were good cognomens for peacocks.</p> + +<p>Anon, we rest and talk in the pavilion. Sayth Erasmus to my father, "I +marvel you have never entered into the king's service in some publick +capacitie."</p> + +<p>Father smiled. "I am better and happier as I am. To put myself forward +would be like printing a book at request of friends, that the publick may +be charmed with what, in fact, it values at a doit. When the cardinall +offered me a pension, as retaining fee to the king, I told him I did not +care to be a mathematical point, to have position without magnitude."</p> + +<p>"We shall see you at court yet," says Erasmus.</p> + +<p>Sayth father, "With a fool's cap and bells!"</p> + +<p class="date"><i>Tuesday</i>.</p> + +<p>This morn I surprised father and Erasmus in the pavillion. Erasmus sayd, +the revival of learning seemed appoynted by Heaven for some greate +purpose.</p> + +<p>In the evening, Will and Rupert, spruce enow with nosegays and ribbons, +rowed us up to Putney. We had a brave ramble through Fulham meadows, father +discoursing of the virtues of plants, and how many a poor knave's pottage +would be improved if he were skilled in the properties of burdock and old +man's pepper.</p> + +<p class="date"><i>June 20</i>.</p> + +<p>Grievous work overnighte with the churning. Gillian sayd that Gammer +Gurney, dissatisfyde last Friday with her dole, had bewitched the creame. +Mother insisted on Bess and me, Daisy and Mercy Giggs, churning until the +butter came. We sang "Chevy Chase" from end to end, and then chaunted the +119th Psalme; and by the time we had attained to <i>Lucerna Pedibus</i>, I +heard the buttermilk separating and splashing in righte earnest. 'Twas +neare midnighte, however. Gillian thinketh our Latin brake the spell.</p> + +<p class="date"><i>June 21</i>.</p> + +<p>Erasmus to Richmond with <i>Polus</i> (for soe he Latinises Reginald +Pole), and some other of his friends.</p> + +<p>I walked with William <i>juxta fluvium</i>, and he talked not badlie of +his travels. There is really more in him than one would think.</p> + +<p>To-day I gave this book to Mr. Gunnel in mistake for my Latin exercise! +Was ever anything so downright disagreeable?</p> + +<p class="date"><i>June 24</i>.</p> + +<p>Yesternighte, St. John's Eve, we went into town to see the mustering of +the watch. The streets were like unto a continuation of fayr bowers or +arbours, which being lit up, looked like an enchanted land. To the sound of +trumpets, came marching up Cheapside two thousand of the watch and seven +hundred cressett bearers, and the Lord Mayor and sheriffs, with morris +dancers, waits, giants, and pageants, very fine. The streets uproarious on +our way back to the barge, but the homeward passage under the stars +delicious.</p> + +<p class="date"><i>June 25</i>.</p> + +<p>Poor Erasmus caughte colde on the water last nighte, and keeps house. He +spent the best part of the morning in our Academia, discussing the +pronunciation of Latin and Greek with Mr. Gunnel, and speaking of his +labours on his Greek and Latin Testament, which he prays may be a blessing +to all Christendom. He talked of a possible <i>Index Bibliorum</i>, saying +'twas onlie the work of patience and Industrie. Methoughte, if none else +would undertake it, why not I?</p> + +<p class="date"><i>June 29</i>.</p> + +<p>Dr. Linacre at dinner. At table discourse flowed soe thicke and faste +that I might aim in vain to chronicle it, and why should I, dwelling as I +doe at the fountayn head?</p> + +<p>In the hay-field alle the evening. Swathed father in a hay-rope. Father +reclining on the hay with his head in my lap. Said he was dreaming "of a +far-off future day, when thou and I shall looke back on this hour, and this +hay-field, and my head on thy lap."</p> + +<p>"Nay, but what a stupid dream, Mr. More," says mother. "If I dreamed at +all, it shoulde be of being Lord Chancellor at the leaste."</p> + +<p>"Well, wife," sayd father, "I forgive thee for not saying at the +most."</p> + +<p class="date"><i>July 2</i>.</p> + +<p>Erasmus is gone. His last saying to father was, "They will have you at +court yet;" and father's answer, "When Plato's year comes round."</p> + +<p>To me he gave a copy--how precious!--of his Greek Testament.</p> + +<p class="date"><i>July 11</i>.</p> + +<p>A forayn mission hath been proposed to father and he did accept. Lengthe +of his stay uncertain, which caste a gloom on alle.</p> + + +<h4><i>II.--Father Goeth to the Court</i></h4> + + +<p class="date"><i>May 27, 1523</i>.</p> + +<p>'Tis so manie months agone since I made an entry in my <i>Libellus</i>, +as that my motto, <i>Nulla dies sine linea</i>, hath somewhat of sarcasm in +it. In father's prolonged absence I have toiled at my <i>Opus</i> (the +<i>Index Bibliorum</i>), but 'twas not to purpose, and then came that payn +in my head. Father discovered my <i>Opus</i>, and with alle swete +gentlenesse told me firmly that there are some things a woman cannot, and +some she had better not do. Yet if I would persist, I shoulde have leisure +and quiet and the help of his books.</p> + +<p>Hearing Mercy propound the conditions of an hospital for aged and sick +folk, father hath devised and given me the conduct of a house of refuge, +and oh, what pleasure have I derived from it! "Have I cured the payn in thy +head, miss?" said he. Then he gave me the key of the hospital, saying, +"'Tis yours now, my joy, by livery and seisin."</p> + +<p class="date"><i>August 6</i>.</p> + +<p>I wish William would give me back my Testament.</p> + +<p class="date"><i>August 7</i>.</p> + +<p>Yesterday, father, taking me unawares, asked, "Come, tell me, Meg, why +canst not affect Will Roper?"</p> + +<p>I was a good while silent, at length made answer, "He is so unlike alle +I have been taught to esteem and admire by you."</p> + +<p>"Have at you," he returned laughing, "I wist not I had been sharpening +weapons against myself."</p> + +<p>Then did he plead Will's cause and bid me take him for what he is.</p> + +<p class="date"><i>August 30</i>.</p> + +<p>Will is in sore doubte and distresse, and I fear it is my Testament that +hath unsettled him. I have bidden him fast, pray, and use such discipline +as our church recommends.</p> + +<p class="date"><i>September 2</i>.</p> + +<p>I have it from Barbara through her brother, one of the men-servants, +that Mr. Roper hath of late lien on the ground and used a knotted cord. I +have made him an abstract from the Fathers for his soul's comfort.</p> + +<p class="date"><i>1524, October</i>.</p> + +<p>The king took us by surprise this morning. Mother had scarce time to +slip on her scarlet gown and coif ere he was in the house. His grace was +mighty pleasant to all, and at going, saluted all round, which Bessy took +humourously, Daisy immoveablie, Mercy humblie, I distastefullie, and mother +delightedlie. She calls him a fine man; he is indeed big enough, and like +to become too big; with long slits of eyes that gaze freelie on all. His +eyebrows are supercilious, and his cheeks puffy. A rolling, straddling gait +and abrupt speech.</p> + +<p class="date"><i>Tuesday, October 25</i>.</p> + +<p>Will troubleth me noe longer with his lovefitt, nor with his religious +disquietations. Hard studdy of the law hath filled his head with other +matters, and made him infinitely more rationall and more agreeable. I shall +ne'er remind him.</p> + +<p>T'other evening, as father and I were strolling down the lane, there +accosts us a poor, shabby fellow, who begged to be father's fool. Father +said he had a fancy to be prime fooler in his own establishment, but liking +the poor knave's wit, civilitie, and good sense, he agreed to halve the +businesse, he continuing the fooling, and Patteson--for that is the simple +good fellow's name--receiving the salary. Father delighteth in sparring +with Patteson far more than in jesting with the king, whom he alwaies looks +on as a lion that may, any minute, rend him.</p> + +<p class="date"><i>1525, July 2</i>.</p> + +<p>Soe my fate is settled. Who knoweth at sunrise what will chance before +sunsett? No; the Greeks and Romans mighte speak of chance and fate, but we +must not. Ruth's hap was to light on the field of Boaz, but what she +thought casual, the Lord had contrived.</p> + +<p>'Twas no use hanging back for ever and ever, soe now there's an end, and +I pray God to give Will and me a quiet life.</p> + +<p class="date"><i>1528, September</i>.</p> + +<p>Father hath had some words with the cardinall touching the draught of +some foreign treaty. "By the Mass," exclaimed his grace, nettled, "thou art +the verist fool in all the council."</p> + +<p>Father, smiling, rejoined, "God be thanked that the king, our master, +hath but one fool therein."</p> + +<p>The cardinall's rage cannot rob father of the royal favour. Howbeit, +father says he has no cause to be proud thereof. "If my head," said he to +Will, "could win the king a castle in France, it shoulde not fail to fly +off."</p> + +<p>...I was senseless enow to undervalue Will. Yes, I am a happy wife, a +happy mother. When my little Bill stroaked dear father's face just now, and +murmured "Pretty!" he burst out a-laughing, and cried, "You are like the +young Cyrus, who exclaimed, 'Oh, mother, how pretty is my +grandfather!'"</p> + +<p>I often sitt for an hour or more, watching Hans Holbein at his brush. He +hath a rare gift of limning; but in our likeness, which he hath painted for +deare Erasmus, I think he has made us very ugly.</p> + + +<h4><i>III.--The Great Seal is Resigned</i></h4> + + +<p class="date"><i>June, 1530</i>.</p> + +<p>Events have followed too quick and thick for me to note 'em. Father's +embassade to Cambray, and then his summons to Woodstock. Then the fire in +the men's quarter, the outhouses and barns. Then, more unlookt for, the +fall of my lord cardinall and father's elevation to the chancellorship.</p> + +<p>On the day succeeding his being sworn in, Patteson marched hither and +thither, in mourning and paper weepers, bearing a huge placard, inscribed, +"Partnership dissolved," and crying, "My brother is dead; for now they've +made him Lord Chancellor, we shall ne'er see Sir Thomas more."</p> + +<p>Father's dispatch of business is such that one day before the end of +term he was told there was no cause or petition to be sett before him, a +thing unparalleled, which he desired might be formally recorded.</p> + +<p class="date"><i>July 28</i>.</p> + +<p>Here's father at issue with half the learned heads in Christendom +concerning the king's marriage. And yet for alle that, I think father is in +the right.</p> + +<p>He taketh matters soe to heart that e'en his appetite fails.</p> + +<p class="date"><i>August</i>.</p> + +<p>He hath resigned the Great Seal! And none of us knew it until after +morning prayer to-day, when, instead of one of his gentlemen stepping up to +my mother in her pew, with the words, "Madam, my lord is gone," he cometh +up to her himself, smiling, and with these selfsame words. She takes it at +first for one of his manie jests whereof she misses the point.</p> + +<p>Our was but a short sorrow, for we have got father to ourselves again. +Patteson skipped across the garden, crying, "Let a fatted calf be killed, +for this my brother who was dead is alive again!"</p> + +<p>How shall we contract the charges of Sir Thomas More? Certain servants +must go; poor Patteson, alas! can be easier spared than some.</p> + +<p class="date"><i>September 22</i>.</p> + +<p>A tearfull morning. Poor Patteson has gone, but father had obtained him +good quarters with my Lord Mayor, and he is even to retain his office with +the Lord Mayor, for the time being.</p> + +<p class="date"><i>1533, April 1</i>.</p> + +<p>The poor fool to see me, saying it is his holiday, and having told the +Lord Mayor overnight that if he lookt for a fool this morning, he must look +in the glass.</p> + +<p>Patteson brought news of the coronation of Lady Anne this coming Easter, +and he begs father to take a fool's advice and eat humble pie; for, says +he, this proud madam is as vindictive as Herodias, and will have father's +head on a charger.</p> + +<p class="date"><i>April 4</i>.</p> + +<p>Father bidden to the coronation by three bishops. He hath, with +curtesie, declined to be present. I have misgivings of the issue.</p> + +<p class="date"><i>April 15</i>.</p> + +<p>Father summoned forth to the Council to take the oathe of supremacie. +Having declared his inabilitie to take the oathe as it stoode, they bade +him take a turn in the garden to reconsider. When called in agayn, he was +as firm as ever, and was given in ward to the Abbot of Westminster until +the king's grace was informed of the matter. And now the fool's wise saying +of vindictive Herodians came true, for 'twas the king's mind to have mercy +on his old servant, and tender him a qualified oathe, but Queen Anne, by +her importunate clamours, did overrule his proper will, and at four days' +end father was committed to the Tower. Oh, wicked woman, how could you!... +Sure you never loved a father.</p> + +<p class="date"><i>May 22</i>.</p> + +<p>Mother hath at length obtaynd access to dear father. He is stedfaste and +cheerfulle as ever. He hath writ us a few lines with a coal, ending with +"<i>Sursum corda</i>, dear children! Up with your hearts."</p> + +<p class="date"><i>August 16</i>.</p> + +<p>The Lord begins to cut us short. We are now on very meagre commons, dear +mother being obliged to pay fifteen shillings a week for the board, meagre +as it is, of father and his servant. She hath parted with her velvet +gown.</p> + +<p class="date"><i>August 20</i>.</p> + +<p>I have seen him, and heard his precious words. He hath kist me for us +alle.</p> + +<p class="date"><i>November. Midnight</i>.</p> + +<p>Dear little Bill hath ta'en a feverish attack. Early in the night his +mind wandered, and he says fearfullie, "Mother, why hangs yon hatchet in +the air with its sharp edge turned towards us?"</p> + +<p>I rise, to move the lamp, and say, "Do you see it now?"</p> + +<p>He sayth, "No, not now," and closes his eyes.</p> + +<p class="date"><i>November 17</i>.</p> + +<p>He's gone, my pretty! ... Slipt through my fingers like a bird upfled to +his native skies. My Billy-bird! His mother's own heart! They are alle +wondrous kind to me....</p> + +<p class="date"><i>March, 1535</i>.</p> + +<p>Spring comes, that brings rejuvenescence to the land and joy to the +heart, but none to me, for where hope dieth joy dieth. But patience, soul; +God's yet in the aumry!</p> + + +<h4><i>IV.--The Worst is Done</i></h4> + + +<p class="date"><i>May 7</i>.</p> + +<p>Father arraigned.</p> + +<p class="date"><i>July 1</i>.</p> + +<p>By reason of Willie minding to be present at the triall, which, for the +concourse of spectators, demanded his earlie attendance, he committed the +care of me, with Bess, to Dancey, Bess's husband, who got us places to see +father on his way from the Tower to Westminster Hall. We coulde not come at +him for the crowd, but clambered on a bench to gaze our very hearts away +after him as he went by, sallow, thin, grey-haired, yet in mien not a whit +cast down. His face was calm but grave, but just as he passed he caught the +eye of some one in the crowd, and smiled in his old frank way; then glanced +up towards the windows with the bright look he hath so oft caste up to me +at my casement, but saw us not; perchance soe 'twas best.</p> + +<p>...Will telleth me the indictment was the longest ever heard: on four +counts. First, his opinion concerning the king's marriage. Second, his +writing sundrie letters to the Bishop of Rochester, counselling him to hold +out. Third, refusing to acknowledge his grace's supremacy. Fourth, his +positive deniall of it, and thereby willing to deprive the king of his +dignity and title.</p> + +<p>They could not make good their accusation. 'Twas onlie on the last count +he could be made out a traitor, and proof of't had they none. He shoulde +have been acquitted out of hand, but his bitter enemy, my Lord Chancellor, +called on him for his defence, whereat a general murmur ran through the +court.</p> + +<p>He began, but a moment's weakness of the body overcame him and he was +accorded a seat. He then proceeded to avow his having always opposed the +king's marriage to his grace himself, deeming it rather treachery to have +withholden his opinion when solicited. Touching the supremacy he held there +could be no treachery in holding his peace, God only being cognizant of our +thoughts.</p> + +<p>"Nay," interposeth the attorney generall, "your silence was the token of +a malicious mind."</p> + +<p>"I had always understood," answers father, "that silence stoode for +consent," which made sundrie smile.</p> + +<p>The issue of the black day was aforehand fixed. The jury retired and +presentlie returned with a verdict of guilty; for they knew what the king's +grace would have 'em doe in that case....</p> + +<p>And then came the frightful sentence....</p> + +<p>They brought him back by water ... The first thing I saw was the axe, +<i>turned with its edge towards him.</i></p> + +<p>Some one laid a cold hand on mine arm; 'twas poor Patteson. He sayth, +"Bide your time, Mistress Meg; when he comes past, I'll make a passage for +ye." ...</p> + +<p>O, brother, brother, what ailed thee to refuse the oath? I've taken it! +... "Now, Mistress, now!" and flinging his arms right and left, made a +breach, through which I darted, fearless of bills and halberds, and did +cast mine arms about father's neck. He cries, "My Meg!" and hugs me to him +as though our very souls shoulde grow together. He sayth, "Bless thee, +bless thee! Kiss them alle for me thus and thus." ... Soe gave me back into +Dancey's arms, the guards about him alle weeping.</p> + +<p>I did make a second rush, and agayn they had pitie on me and made pause +while I hung upon his neck. He whispered, "Meg, for Christ's sake don't +unman me. God's blessing be with you," he sayth with a last kiss, then +adding, with a passionate upward regard, "The chariot of Israel and the +horsemen thereof!"</p> + +<p>I look up, almost expecting a beautific vision, and when I turn about, +he's gone.</p> + +<p class="date"><i>July 5,6</i>.</p> + +<p>Alle's over now.... They've done theire worst, and yet I live. Dr. +Clement sayth he went up as blythe as a bridegroom, to be clothed upon with +immortality.</p> + +<p class="date"><i>July 19</i>.</p> + +<p>They have let us bury his poor mangled trunk; but as sure as there's a +sun in heaven, I'll have his head!--before another sun has risen, too. If +wise men won't speed me, I'll e'en content me with a fool.</p> + +<p class="date"><i>July 20</i>.</p> + +<p>Quoth Patteson: "Fool and fayr lady will cheat 'em yet."</p> + +<p>At the stairs lay a wherry with a couple of boatmen. We went down the +river quietlie enow--nor lookt I up till aneath the bridge gate, when, +casting up one fearsome look, I beheld the dark outline of the ghastly yet +precious relic; and falling into a tremour, did wring my hands and exclaim, +"Alas, alas! That head hath lain full manie a time in my lap, woulde God it +lay there now!" When o' suddain, I saw the pole tremble and sway towardes +me; and stretching forth my apron I did, in an extasy of gladness, pity, +and horror, catch its burthen as it fell.</p> + +<p>Patteson, shuddering, yet grinning, cries under his breath, "Managed I +not well, mistress? Let's speed away with our theft, but I think not +they'll follow hard after us, for there are well-wishers on the bridge. +I'll put ye into the boat and then say, 'God sped ye, lady, with your +burthen.'"</p> + +<p class="date"><i>July 23</i>.</p> + +<p>I've heard Bonvisi tell of a poor Italian girl who buried her murdered +lover's heart in a pot of basil, which she watered day and night with her +tears, just as I do my coffer. Will hath promised it shall be buried with +me; layd upon my heart, and since then I've been easier.</p> + +<p>He thinks he shall write father's life, when we are settled in a new +home. We are to be cleared out o' this in alle haste; for the king grutches +at our lingering over father's footsteps, and yet when the news of the +bloody deed was taken to him, he scowled at Queen Anne, saying, "Thou art +the cause of this man's death!"</p> + +<p>Flow on, bright shining Thames. A good, brave man hath walked aforetime +on your margent, himself as bright, and usefull, and delightsome as you, +sweet river. There's a river whose streams make glad the city of our God. +He now rests beside it. Good Christian folks, as they hereafter pass this +spot, will, maybe, point this way and say, "There dwelt Sir Thomas More," +but whether they doe or not, <i>Vox Populi</i> is no very considerable +matter. Theire favourite of to-day may, for what they care, goe hang +himself to-morrow in his surcingle. Thus it must be while the world lasts; +and the very racks and scrues wherewith they aim to overcome the nobler +spiritt onlie lift and reveal its power of exaltation above the heaviest +gloom of circumstance.</p> + +<p><i>Interfecistis, interfecistis hominem omnium anglorum optimum.</i></p> + +<hr /> + + + + +<h2><a name="ALESSANDRO_MANZONI"></a>ALESSANDRO MANZONI</h2> + + +<h3><a name="The_Betrothed"></a>The Betrothed</h3> + + +<blockquote> Poet, dramatist, and novelist, Alessandro Francesco Tommaso +Manzoni was born at Milan on March 7, 1785. In early manhood he became an +ardent disciple of Voltairianism, but after marriage embraced the faith of +the Church of Rome; and it was in reparation of his early lapse that he +composed his first important literary work, which took the form of a +treatise on Catholic morality, and a number of sacred lyrics. Although +Manzoni was perhaps surpassed as a poet by several of his own countrymen, +his supreme position as novelist of the romantic school in Italy is +indisputable. His famous work, "The Betrothed" ("I Promessi Sposi"), +completed in 1822 and published at the rate of a volume a year during +1825-27, was declared by Scott to be the finest novel ever written. Manzoni +died on May 22, 1873. </blockquote> + + +<h4><i>I.--The Schemes of Don Rodrigo</i></h4> + + +<p>Don Abbondio, curé of a little town near Como, was no hero. It +was, therefore, the less difficult for two armed bravos whom he encountered +one evening in the year 1628 to convince him that the wedding of Renzo +Tramaglino and Lucia Mondella must not take place, as it did not suit the +designs of their master, Don Rodrigo. Renzo, however, was by no means +disposed to take this view of the matter, and was like to have taken some +desperate steps to express his disapproval. From this course he was +dissuaded by Fra Cristoforo, a Capuchin, renowned for his wisdom and +sanctity, who undertook to attempt to soften the heart of Don Rodrigo.</p> + +<p>The friar was held in affectionate esteem by all, even by Rodrigo's +bravos, and on his arrival at the castle he was at once shown into the +presence of its master.</p> + +<p>"I come," said he, "to propose to you an act of justice. Some men of bad +character have made use of the name of your illustrious lordship to alarm a +poor curé, and dissuade him from performing his duty, and to oppress +two innocent persons--"</p> + +<p>"In short, father," said Rodrigo, "I suppose there is some young girl +you are concerned about. Since you seem to think that I am so powerful, +advise her to come and put herself under my protection; she shall be well +looked after. Cowled rascal!" he shouted. "Vile upstart! Thank the cassock +that covers your cowardly shoulders for saving them from the caresses that +such scoundrels should receive. Depart, or--"</p> + +<p>In the meantime, plans were being discussed in Lucia's cottage.</p> + +<p>"Listen, my children," said Agnese, her mother; "if you were married, +that would be the great difficulty out of the way."</p> + +<p>"Is there any doubt," said Renzo; "<i>if</i> we were married--At +Bergamo, not far from here, a silk-weaver would be received with open arms. +You know my cousin Bartolo has wanted me to go there and make my fortune, +as he has done. Once married, we could all go thither together, and live in +blessed peace, out of this villain's reach."</p> + +<p>"Listen, then," said Agnese. "There must be two witnesses; all four must +go to the priest and take him by surprise, that he mayn't have time to +escape. The man says, 'Signor Curé, this is my wife'; the woman +says, 'Signor Curé, this is my husband.' It is necessary that the +curé and the witnesses hear it, and the marriage is then as valid +and sacred as if the Pope himself had blessed it."</p> + +<p>"But why, then," said Lucia, "didn't this plan come into Fra +Cristoforo's mind?"</p> + +<p>"Do you think it didn't?" replied she. "But--if you must know--the +friars disapprove of that sort of thing."</p> + +<p>"If it isn't right, we ought not to do it."</p> + +<p>"What! Would I give you advice contrary to the fear of God; if it were +against the will of your parents? But when I am satisfied, and he who makes +all this disturbance is a villain---- Once it is done, what do you think +the father will say? 'Ah! daughter; it was a sad error, but it is done.' In +his heart he will be very well satisfied."</p> + +<p>On the following night Don Abbondio was disturbed at a late hour by a +certain Tonio, who came with his cousin Gervase to pay a small debt. While +he was giving him a receipt for it, Renzo and Lucia slipped in unperceived. +The curé was startled on suddenly hearing the words, "Signor +Curé, in the presence of these witnesses, this is my wife." +Instantly grasping the situation, and before Lucia's lips could form a +reply, Don Abbondio seized the tablecloth, and at a bound wrapped her head +in it, so that she could not complete the formula. "Perpetua!" he shouted +to his housekeeper. "Help!"</p> + +<p>Dashing to an inner room, he locked himself in, flung open the window, +and shouted for help. Hearing the uproar, the sexton, who lived next door, +shouted out, "What is it?"</p> + +<p>"Help!" repeated the curé. Not being over desirous of thrusting +himself blindly in upon unknown dangers, the sexton hastened to the belfry +and vigorously rang the great bell. This ringing the bell had more +far-reaching consequences than he anticipated. Enraged by the friar's +visit, Rodrigo had determined to abduct Lucia, and sent his bravos to +effect his purpose that very night. At the very moment that the bell began +to ring they had just broken into Agnese's house, and were searching for +the occupants. Convinced that their action was the cause of commotion, they +beat a hasty retreat.</p> + +<p>The discomfited betrothed--still only betrothed--hastily rejoined +Agnese, who was waiting for them in the street. As they hurriedly turned +their steps homeward a child threw himself into their way.</p> + +<p>"Back! Back!" he breathlessly exclaimed. "This way to the +monastery!"</p> + +<p>"What is it?" asked Renzo.</p> + +<p>"There are devils in your house," said the boy, panting. "I saw them; +Fra Cristoforo said so; he sent me to warn you. He had news from someone at +the castle; you must go to him at the monastery at once."</p> + +<p>"My children," said Fra Cristoforo on their arrival, "the village is no +longer safe for you; for a time, at least, you must take refuge elsewhere. +I will arrange for you, Lucia, to be taken care of in a convent at Monza. +You, Renzo, must put yourself in safety from the anger of others, and your +own. Carry this letter to Father Bonaventura, in our monastery at Milan. He +will find you work."</p> + + +<h4><i>II.--The Riot of the Hungry</i></h4> + + +<p>Fra Bonaventura was out when Renzo arrived to present his letter.</p> + +<p>"Go and wait in the church, where you may employ yourself profitably," +was the porter's advice, which Renzo was about to follow, when a tumultuous +crowd came in sight. Here, apparently, was matter of greater interest, so +he turned aside to see the cause of the uproar.</p> + +<p>The cause, though Renzo did not at the time discover it, was the +shortage of the bread supply. Owing to the ravages of war and the disturbed +state of the country, much land lay uncultivated and deserted; +insupportable taxes were levied; and no sooner had the deficient harvest +been gathered in than the provisions for the army, and the waste which +always accompanies them, made a fearful void in it. What had attracted +Renzo's attention was but the sudden exacerbation of a chronic disease.</p> + +<p>Mingling with the hurrying mob, Renzo soon discovered that they had been +engaged in sacking a bakery, and were filled with fury to find large +quantities of flour, the existence of which the authorities had denied. +"The superintendent! The tyrant! We'll have him, dead or alive!"</p> + +<p>Renzo found himself borne along in the thickest of the throng to the +house of the superintendent, where a tremendous crowd was endeavouring to +break in the doors. The tumult being allayed by the arrival of Ferrer, the +chancellor, a popular favourite, Renzo became involved in conversation with +some of the rioters. He asked to be directed to an inn where he could pass +the night.</p> + +<p>"I know an inn that will suit you," said one who had listened to all the +speeches without himself saying a word. "The landlord is a friend of mine, +a very worthy man."</p> + +<p>So saying, he took Renzo off to an inn at some little distance, taking +pains to ascertain who he was and whence he came. Arrived at the inn, the +new companions shared a bottle of wine which, in Renzo's excited condition, +soon mounted to his head. Another bottle was called for; and the landlord, +being asked if he had a bed, produced pen, ink, and paper, and demanded his +name, surname and country.</p> + +<p>"What has all this to do with my bed?"</p> + +<p>"I do my duty. We are obliged to report everyone that sleeps in the +house."</p> + +<p>"Oh, so I'm to tell my business, am I? This is something new. Supposing +I had come to Milan to confess, I should go to a Capuchin father, not to an +innkeeper."</p> + +<p>"Well, if you won't, you won't!" said the landlord, with a glance at +Renzo's companion. "I've done my duty."</p> + +<p>So saying, he withdrew, and shortly afterwards the new-found friend +insisted on taking his departure. At daybreak Renzo was awakened by a shake +and a voice calling, "Lorenzo Tramaglino."</p> + +<p>"Eh, what does this mean? What do you want? Who told you my name?" said +Renzo, starting up, amazed to find three men, two of them fully armed, +standing at his bedside.</p> + +<p>"You must come with us. The high sheriff wants to have some words with +you."</p> + +<p>Renzo now found himself being led through the streets, that were still +filled with a considerable number of last night's rioters, by no means yet +pacified. When they had gone a little way some of the crowd, noticing them, +began to form around the party.</p> + +<p>"If I don't help myself now," thought Renzo, "it's my own fault. My +friends," he shouted, "they're carrying me off because yesterday I shouted +'Bread and Justice!' Don't abandon me, my friends!"</p> + +<p>The crowd at once began to press forward, and the bailiffs, fearing +danger, let go of his hands and tried to disappear into the crowd. Renzo +was carried off safely.</p> + +<p>His only hope of safety now lay in getting entirely clear of Milan and +hiding himself in some other town out of the jurisdiction of the duchy. He +decided to go to Bergamo, which was under Venetian government, where he +could live safely with his cousin until such time as Milan had forgotten +him.</p> + + +<h4><i>III.--The Unnamed's Penitence</i></h4> + + +<p>Don Rodrigo was now more determined than ever to accomplish his +praiseworthy undertaking, and to this end he sought the help of a very +formidable character, a powerful noble, whose bravos had long been the +terror of the countryside, and who was always referred to as "The +Unnamed."</p> + +<p>Lucia, having been sent one day with a note from the convent where she +had found refuge to a monastery at some little distance, found herself +suddenly seized from behind, and, regardless of her screams, bundled into a +carriage, which drove off at a great pace.</p> + +<p>When the carriage stopped, after a long drive, Lucia was hurried into a +litter, which bore her up a steep hill to a castle, where she was shut up +in a room with an old crone. After a while a resounding knock was heard on +the door, and the Unnamed strode in.</p> + +<p>Casting a glance around, he discovered Lucia crouched down on the floor +in a corner.</p> + +<p>"Come, get up!" he said to her.</p> + +<p>The unhappy girl raised herself on her knees, and raised her hands to +him.</p> + +<p>"Oh, what have I done to you? Where am I? Why do you make me suffer the +agonies of hell? In the name of God--"</p> + +<p>"God!" interrupted he; "always God! They who cannot defend themselves +must always bring forward this God. What do you expect by this word? To +make me--"</p> + +<p>"Oh, signor, what can a poor girl like me expect, except that you should +have mercy upon me? God pardons so many sins for one deed of mercy. For +charity's sake, let me go! I will pray for you all my life. Oh, see, you +are moved to pity! Say one word; oh, say it! God pardons so many sins for +one deed of mercy!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, why isn't she the daughter of one of the dogs who outlawed me?" +thought the Unnamed. "Then I should enjoy her sufferings; but +instead--"</p> + +<p>"Don't drive away a good inspiration!" continued Lucia earnestly, seeing +a certain hesitation in his face.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps some day even you--But no--no, I will always pray the Lord to +keep you from every evil."</p> + +<p>"Come, take courage," said the Unnamed, with unusual gentleness. "Have I +done you any harm? To-morrow morning--"</p> + +<p>"Oh set me free now!"</p> + +<p>"To-morrow I will see you again."</p> + +<p>When he left her, the unhappy girl flung herself on her knees. "O most +holy Virgin," she prayed, "thou to whom I have so often recommended myself, +and who hast so often comforted me! Bring me out of this danger, bring me +safely to my mother, and I vow unto thee to continue a virgin! I renounce +for ever my unfortunate betrothed, that I may belong only to thee!"</p> + +<p>The Unnamed retired for the night, but not to sleep. "God pardons so +many sins for one deed of mercy!" kept ringing in his ears. Suppose there +was a God, after all? He had so many sins in need of pardon.</p> + +<p>About daybreak a confused murmur reached his ear from the valley below; +a distant chiming of bells began to make itself heard; nearer bells took up +the peal, until the whole air rang with the sound. He demanded the cause of +all this rejoicing, and was informed that Cardinal Boromeo had arrived, and +that the festival was in his honour.</p> + +<p>He went to Lucia's apartment, and found her still huddled up in a +corner, but sleeping. The hag explained that she could not be prevailed +upon to go to bed.</p> + +<p>"Then let her sleep. When she wakes, tell her that I will do all she +wishes."</p> + +<p>Leaving the castle with rapid steps, the Unnamed hastened to the village +where the cardinal had rested the previous night.</p> + +<p>"Oh," cried Federigo Boromeo, "what a welcome visit is this. You have +good news for me, I am sure."</p> + +<p>"Good news! What good news can you expect from such as I?"</p> + +<p>"That God has touched your heart, and would make you His own."</p> + +<p>"God! God! If I could but see Him! If He be such as they say, what do +you suppose that He can do with me?"</p> + +<p>"The world has long cried out against you," replied Federigo in a solemn +voice. "He can acquire through you a glory such as others cannot give Him. +How must He love you, Who has bid and enabled me to regard you with a +charity that consumes me!" So saying, he extended his hand.</p> + +<p>"No!" cried the penitent. "Defile not your hand! You know not all that +the one you would grasp has committed."</p> + +<p>"Suffer me to press the hand which will repair so many wrongs, comfort +so many afflicted, be extended peacefully and humbly to so many +enemies."</p> + +<p>"Unhappy man that I am," exclaimed the signor, "one thing, at least, I +can quickly arrest and repair."</p> + +<p>Federigo listened attentively to the relation of Lucia's abduction. "Ah, +let us lose no time!" he exclaimed breathlessly. "This is an earnest of +God's forgiveness, to make you an instrument of safety to one whom you +would have ruined."</p> + + +<h4><i>IV.--In a Lazzeretto</i></h4> + + +<p>Thanks to his cousin, Renzo was enabled to earn very good wages, and +would have been quite content to remain had it not been for his desire to +rejoin Lucia. A terrible outbreak of plague in Milan spread to Bergamo, and +our friend was among the first to be stricken down, his recovery being due +more to his excellent constitution than to any medical skill. Thereafter, +he lost no more time, and after many inquiries he succeeded in tracing +Lucia to an address in Milan.</p> + +<p>Secure in an <i>alias</i>, he set out to the plague-stricken city, which +he found in the most deplorable condition. Having found the house of which +he was in search, he knocked loudly at the door and inquired if Lucia still +lived there. To his horror, he found that she had been taken to the +Lazzeretto!</p> + +<p>Let the reader imagine the enclosure of the Lazzeretto, peopled with +16,000 persons ill of the plague; the whole area encumbered, here with +tents and cabins, there with carts, and elsewhere with people; crowded with +dead or dying, stretched on mattresses, or on bare straw; and throughout +the whole a commotion like the swell of the sea.</p> + +<p>"Lucia, I've found you! You're living!" exclaimed Renzo, all in a +tremble.</p> + +<p>"Oh, blessed Lord!" cried she, trembling far more violently. "You?"</p> + +<p>"How pale you are! You've recovered, though?"</p> + +<p>"The Lord has pleased to leave me here a little longer. Ah, Renzo, why +are you here?"</p> + +<p>"Why? Need I say why? Am I no longer Renzo? Are you no longer +Lucia?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, what are you saying? Didn't my mother write to you?"</p> + +<p>"Ay, that indeed she did. Fine things to offer to an unfortunate, +afflicted, fugitive wretch who had never done you wrong."</p> + +<p>"But, Renzo, Renzo, you don't think what you're saying! A promise to the +Madonna--a vow!"</p> + +<p>"And I think better of the Madonna than you do, for I believe she +doesn't wish for promises that injure one's fellow-creatures. Promise her +that our first daughter shall be called Maria, for that I'm willing to +promise, too. That is a devotion that may have some use, and does no harm +to anyone."</p> + +<p>"You don't know what it is to make a vow. Leave me, for heaven's sake, +and think no more about me--except in your prayers!"</p> + +<p>"Listen, Lucia! Fra Cristoforo is here. I spoke with him but a short +while ago, while I was searching for you, and he told me that I did right +to come and look for you; and that the Lord would approve my acting so, and +would surely help me to find you, which has come to pass."</p> + +<p>"But if he said so, he didn't know------"</p> + +<p>"How should he know of things you've done out of your own head, and +without the advice of a priest? A good man, as he is, would never think of +things of this kind. And he spoke, too, like a saint. He said that perhaps +God designed to show mercy to that poor fellow, for so I must now call him, +Don Rodrigo, who is now in this place, and waits to take him at the right +moment, but wishes that we should pray for him together. Together! You +hear? He told me to go back and tell him whether I'd found you. I'm going. +We'll hear what he says."</p> + +<p>After a while, Renzo returned with Fra Cristoforo. "My daughter," said +the father, "did you recollect, when you made that vow, that you were bound +by another promise?"</p> + +<p>"When it related to the Madonna?"</p> + +<p>"My daughter, the Lord approves of offerings when we make them of our +own. It is the heart, the will that He desires. But you could not offer Him +the will of another, to Whom you had pledged yourself."</p> + +<p>"Have I done wrong?"</p> + +<p>"No, my poor child. But tell me, have you no other motive that hinders +you from fulfilling your promise to Renzo?"</p> + +<p>Lucia blushed crimson. "Nothing else," she whispered.</p> + +<p>"Then, my child, you know that the Church has power to absolve you from +your vow?"</p> + +<p>"But, father, is it not a sin to turn back and repent of a promise made +to the Madonna? I made it at the time with my whole heart----" said Lucia, +violently agitated by so unexpected a hope.</p> + +<p>"A sin? A sin to have recourse to the Church, and to ask her minister to +make use of the authority which he has received, through her, from God? And +if you request me to declare you absolved from this vow, I shall not +hesitate to do it; nay, I wish that you may request me."</p> + +<p>"Then--then--I do request it!"</p> + +<p>In an explicit voice the father then said, "By the authority I have +received from the Church, I declare you absolved from the vow of virginity, +and free you from every obligation you may thereby have contracted. Beseech +the Lord again for those graces you once besought to make you a holy wife; +and rely on it, He will bestow them upon you after so many sorrows."</p> + +<p>"Has Renzo told you," Fra Cristoforo continued, "whom he has seen +here?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, father, he has!"</p> + +<p>"You will pray for him. Don't be weary of doing so. And pray also for +me."</p> + +<p>Some weeks later, Don Abbondio received a visit, as unexpected as it was +gratifying, from the marquis who, on Rodrigo's death from the plague, +succeeded to his estates.</p> + +<p>"I come," said he, "to bring you the compliments of the cardinal +archbishop. He wishes to have news of the young betrothed persons of this +parish, who had to suffer on account of the unfortunate Don Rodrigo."</p> + +<p>"Everything is settled, and they will be man and wife as soon as +possible."</p> + +<p>"And I request that you be good enough to tell me if I can be of any +service to them."</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>And here we may safely leave Renzo and Lucia. Their powerful protector +easily secured Renzo's pardon, and shortly afterwards they were happily +married and settled in Bergamo, where abundant prosperity came to them; +and, furthermore, they were blessed with a large family, of whom the first, +being a girl, was named Maria.</p> + +<hr /> + + + + +<h2><a name="FREDERICK_MARRYAT"></a>FREDERICK MARRYAT</h2> + + +<h3><a name="Mr_Midshipman_Easy"></a>Mr. Midshipman Easy</h3> + + +<blockquote> Frederick Marryat, novelist and captain in the navy, was born +in London on July 10, 1792. As a boy he chiefly distinguished himself by +repeatedly running away from school with the intention of going to sea. His +first experience of naval service was under Lord Cochrane, whom he +afterwards reproduced as Captain Savage of the Diomede in "Peter Simple." +Honourable though Marryat's life at sea was, it is as a graphic depictor of +naval scenes, customs, and character that he is known to the present +generation. His first story, "Frank Mildmay" (1829), took the reading +public by storm, and from that time onward he produced tale after tale with +startling rapidity. "Peter Simple" is the best of Captain Marryat's novels, +and "Mr. Midshipman Easy" is the most humorous. Published in volume form in +1836, after appearing serially in the pages of the "Metropolitan Magazine," +of which Marryat was then editor, the latter story immediately caught the +fancy of the public, and considerably widened his already large circle of +readers. "Mr. Midshipman Easy" is frankly farcical; it shows its author not +only as a graphic writer, but as one gifted with an abundance of whimsical +humour and a keen sense of characterisation. Opinions may differ as to the +actual merits of "Mr. Midshipman Easy," but it has more than served its +author's purpose--it has held the public for over seventy years. Captain +Marryat died on August 9, 1848. </blockquote> + + +<h4><i>I.--Mr. Easy Joins His Majesty's Service</i></h4> + + +<p>Mr. Nicodemus Easy was a gentleman who lived down in Hampshire. He was a +married man, and in very easy circumstances, and having decided to be a +philosopher, he had fixed upon the rights of man, equality, and all +that--how every person was born to inherit his share of the earth--for his +philosophy.</p> + +<p>At the age of fourteen his only son, Jack, decided to go to sea.</p> + +<p>"It has occurred to me, father," he said, "that although the whole earth +has been so nefariously divided among the few, the waters at least are the +property of all. No man claims his share of the sea; everyone may there +plough as he pleases without being taken up for a trespasser. It is, then, +only upon the ocean that I am likely to find that equality and rights of +man which we are so anxious to establish on shore; and therefore I have +resolved not to go to school again, which I detest, but to go to sea."</p> + +<p>"I cannot listen to that, Jack. You must return to school."</p> + +<p>"All I have to say is, father, that I swear by the rights of man I will +not go back to school, and that I will go to sea. Was I not born my own +master? Has anyone a right to dictate to me as if I were not his +equal?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Easy had nothing to reply.</p> + +<p>"I will write to Captain Wilson," he said mournfully.</p> + +<p>Captain Wilson, who was under considerable obligations to Mr. Easy, +wrote in reply promising that he would treat Jack as his own son, and our +hero very soon found his way down to Portsmouth.</p> + +<p>As Jack had plenty of money, and was very much pleased at finding +himself his own master, he was in no hurry to join his ship, and five or +six companions whom he had picked up strongly advised him to put it off +until the very last moment. So he was three weeks at Portsmouth before +anyone knew of his arrival.</p> + +<p>At last, Captain Wilson, receiving a note from Mr. Easy, desired Mr. +Sawbridge, the first lieutenant, to make inquiries; and Mr. Sawbridge, +going on shore, and being informed by the waiter at the Fountain Inn that +Mr. Easy had been there three weeks, was justly indignant.</p> + +<p>Mr. Sawbridge was a good officer, who had really worked his way up to +the present rank--that is, he had served seven-and-twenty years, and had +nothing but his pay. He was a good-hearted man; but when he entered Jack's +room, and saw the dinner-table laid out in the best style for eight, his +bile was raised by the display.</p> + +<p>"May I beg to ask," said Jack, who was always remarkably polite in his +address, "in what manner I may be of service to you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes sir, you may--by joining your ship immediately."</p> + +<p>Hereupon, Jack, who did not admire the peremptory tone of Mr. Sawbridge, +very coolly replied. "And, pray, who are you?"</p> + +<p>"Who am I, sir? My name is Sawbridge, sir, and I am the first lieutenant +of the Harpy. Now, sir, you have your answer."</p> + +<p>Mr. Sawbridge was not in uniform, but he imagined the name of the first +lieutenant would strike terror to a culprit midshipman.</p> + +<p>"Really, sir," replied Jack. "What may be your exact situation on board? +My ignorance of the service will not allow me to guess; but if I may judge +from your behaviour, you have no small opinion of yourself."</p> + +<p>"Look ye, young man, you may not know what a first lieutenant is; but, +depend upon it, I'll let you know very soon! In the meantime, sir, I insist +that you go immediately on board."</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry that I cannot comply with your very moderate request," +replied Jack coolly. "I shall go on board when it suits my convenience, and +I beg that you will give yourself no further trouble on my account." He +then rang the bell. "Waiter, show this gentleman downstairs."</p> + +<p>"By the god of wars!" exclaimed the first lieutenant. "But I'll soon +show you down to the boat, my young bantam! I shall now go and report your +conduct to Captain Wilson, and if you are not on board this evening, +to-morrow morning I shall send a sergeant and a file of marines to fetch +you."</p> + +<p>"You may depend upon it," replied Jack, "that I also shall not fail to +mention to Captain Wilson that I consider you a very quarrelsome, +impertinent fellow, and recommend him not to allow you to remain on board. +It will be quite uncomfortable to be in the same ship with such an +ungentlemanly bear."</p> + +<p>"He must be mad--quite mad!" exclaimed Sawbridge, whose astonishment +even mastered his indignation. "Mad as a March hare!"</p> + +<p>"No, sir," replied Jack, "I am not mad, but I am a philosopher."</p> + +<p>"A <i>what</i>? Well, my joker, all the better for you. I shall put your +philosophy to the proof."</p> + +<p>"It is for that very reason, sir, that I have decided upon going to sea; +and if you do remain on board, I hope to argue the point with you, and make +you a convert to the truth of equality and the rights of man. We are all +born equal. I trust you'll allow that?"</p> + +<p>"Twenty-seven years have I been in the service!" roared Sawbridge. "But +he's mad--downright, stark, staring mad!" And the first lieutenant bounced +out of the room.</p> + +<p>"He calls me mad," thought Jack. "I shall tell Captain Wilson what is my +opinion about his lieutenant." Shortly afterwards the company arrived, and +Jack soon forgot all about it.</p> + +<p>In the meantime, Sawbridge called at the captain's lodgings, and made a +faithful report of all that had happened.</p> + +<p>Sawbridge and Wilson were old friends and messmates, and the captain put +it to the first lieutenant that Mr. Easy, senior, having come to his +assistance and released him from heavy difficulties with a most generous +cheque, what could he do but be a father to his son?</p> + +<p>"I can only say," replied Sawbridge, "that, not only to please you, but +also from respect to a man who has shown such goodwill towards one of our +cloth, I shall most cheerfully forgive all that has passed between the lad +and me."</p> + +<p>Captain Wilson then dispatched a note to our hero, requesting the +pleasure of his company to breakfast on the ensuing morning, and Jack +answered in the affirmative.</p> + +<p>Captain Wilson, who knew all about Mr. Easy's philosophy, explained to +Jack the details and rank of every person on board, and that everyone was +equally obliged to obey orders. Lieutenant Sawbridge's demeanour was due +entirely to his zeal for his country.</p> + +<p>That evening Mr. Jack Easy was safe on board his majesty's sloop +Harpy.</p> + + +<h4><i>II.--On Board the Harpy</i></h4> + + +<p>Jack remained in his hammock during the first few days at sea. He was +very sick, bewildered, and confused, every minute knocking his head against +the beams with the pitching and tossing of the sloop.</p> + +<p>"And this is going to sea," thought Jack. "No wonder that no one +interferes with another here, or talks about a trespass; for I am sure +anyone is welcome to my share of the ocean."</p> + +<p>When he was well enough he was told to go to the midshipman's berth, and +Jack, who now felt excessively hungry, crawled over and between chests +until he found himself in a hole infinitely inferior to the dog-kennels +which received his father's pointers.</p> + +<p>"I'd not only give up the ocean," thought Jack, "and my share of it, but +also my share of the Harpy, unto anyone who fancies it. Equality enough +here, for everyone appears equally miserably off."</p> + +<p>But when he had gained the deck, the scene of cheerfulness, activity, +and order lightened his heart after the four days of suffering, close air, +and confinement from which he had just emerged.</p> + +<p>Jack dined with the captain that night, and was very much pleased to +find that everyone drank wine with him, and that everybody at the captain's +table appeared to be on an equality. Before the dessert had been on the +table five minutes, Jack became loquacious on his favourite topic. All the +company stared with surprise at such an unheard-of doctrine being broached +on board of a man-of-war.</p> + +<p>This day may be considered as the first in which Jack really made his +appearance on board, and it also was on this first day that Jack made +known, at the captain's table, his very peculiar notions. If the company at +the captain's table were astonished at such heterodox opinions being +started, they were equally astonished at the cool, good-humoured ridicule +with which they were received by Captain Wilson. The report of Jack's +boldness, and every word and opinion that he had uttered--of course, much +magnified--were circulated that evening through the whole ship; the matter +was canvassed in the gun-room by the officers, and descanted upon by the +midshipmen as they walked the deck. The boatswain talked it over with the +other warrant officers, till the grog was all gone, and then dismissed it +as too dry a subject.</p> + +<p>The bully of the midshipman's berth--a young man about seventeen, named +Vigors--at once attacked our hero.</p> + +<p>"So, my chap, you are come on board to raise a mutiny here with your +equality? You came off scot free at the captain's table, but it won't do, I +can tell you; someone must knock under in the midshipman's berth, and you +are one of them."</p> + +<p>"I can assure you that you are mistaken," replied Easy.</p> + +<p>At school Jack had fought and fought again, until he was a very good +bruiser, and although not so tall as Vigors, he was much better built for +fighting.</p> + +<p>"I've thrashed bigger fellows than he," he said to himself.</p> + +<p>"You impudent blackguard!" exclaimed Vigors. "If you say another word, +I'll give you a good thrashing, and knock some of your equality out of +you!"</p> + +<p>"Indeed!" replied Jack, who almost fancied himself back at school. +"We'll try that!"</p> + +<p>Vigors had gained his assumed authority more by bullying than fighting; +others had submitted to him without a sufficient trial. Jack, on the +contrary, had won his way up in school by hard and scientific combat. The +result, therefore, may easily be imagined. In less than a quarter of an +hour Vigors, beaten dead, with his eyes closed and three teeth out, gave +in; while Jack, after a basin of water, looked as fresh as ever.</p> + +<p>After that, Jack declared that as might was right in a midshipman's +berth, he would so far restore equality that, let who would come, they must +be his master before they should tyrannise over those weaker than he.</p> + + +<h4><i>III.--The Triangular Duel</i></h4> + + +<p>Jack, although generally popular on board, had made enemies of Mr. +Biggs, the boatswain, and Mr. Easthupp, the purser's steward. The latter--a +cockney and a thief--had even been kicked down the hatchway by our +hero.</p> + +<p>When the Harpy was at Malta, Jack, wroth at the way the two men talked +at him, declared he would give them satisfaction.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Biggs, let you and this fellow put on plain clothes, and I will +meet you both."</p> + +<p>"One at a time?" said the boatswain.</p> + +<p>"No, sir; not one at a time, but both at the same time. I will fight +both or none. If you are my superior officer, you must <i>descend</i> to +meet me, or I will not descend to meet that fellow, whom I believe to have +been little better than a pickpocket!"</p> + +<p>Mr. Biggs having declared that he would fight, of course, had to look +out for a second, and he fixed upon Mr. Tallboys, the gunner, and requested +him to be his friend. Mr. Tallboys consented, but he was very much puzzled +how to arrange that <i>three</i> were to fight at the same time, for he had +no idea of there being two duels. Jack had no one to confide in but +Gascoigne, a fellow-midshipman; and although Gascoigne thought it was +excessively <i>infra dig.</i> of Jack to meet even the boatswain, as the +challenge had been given there was no retracting, and he therefore +consented and went to meet Mr. Tallboys.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Gascoigne," said the gunner, "you see that there are three parties +to fight. Had there been two or four there would have been no difficulty, +as the straight line or square might guide us in that instance; but we must +arrange it upon the triangle in this."</p> + +<p>Gascoigne stared. He could not imagine what was coming.</p> + +<p>"The duel between three can only be fought upon the principle of the +triangle," the gunner went on. "You observe," he said, taking a piece of +chalk and making a triangle on the table, "in this figure we have three +points, each equidistant from each other; and we have three combatants, so +that, placing one at each point, it is all fair play for the three. Mr. +Easy, for instance, stands here, the boatswain here, and the purser's +steward at the third corner. Now, if the distance is fairly measured it +will be all right."</p> + +<p>"But then," replied Gascoigne, delighted at the idea, "how are they to +fire?"</p> + +<p>"It certainly is not of much consequence," replied the gunner; "but +still, as sailors, it appears to me that they should fire with the +sun--that is, Mr. Easy fires at Mr. Biggs, Mr. Biggs fires at Mr. Easthupp, +and Mr. Easthupp fires at Mr. Easy, so that you perceive that each party +has his shot at one, and at the same time receives the fire of +another."</p> + +<p>Gascoigne was in ecstasies at the novelty of the proceeding.</p> + +<p>"Upon my word, Mr. Tallboys, I give you great credit. You have a +profound mathematical head, and I am delighted with your arrangement. I +shall insist upon Mr. Easy consenting to your excellent and scientific +proposal."</p> + +<p>Gascoigne went out and told Jack what the gunner had proposed, at which +Jack laughed heartily. The gunner also explained it to the boatswain, who +did not very well comprehend, but replied, "I daresay it's all right. Shot +for shot, and d---- all favours!"</p> + +<p>The parties then repaired to the spot with two pairs of ship's pistols, +which Mr. Tallboys had smuggled on shore; and as soon as they were on the +ground, the gunner called Mr. Easthupp. In the meantime, Gascoigne had been +measuring an equilaterial triangle of twelve paces, and marked it out. Mr. +Tallboys, on his return with the purser's steward, went over the ground, +and finding that it was "equal angles subtended by equal sides," declared +that it was all right. Easy took his station, the boatswain was put into +his, and Mr. Easthupp, who was quite in a mystery, was led by the gunner to +the third position.</p> + +<p>"But, Mr. Tallboys," said the purser's steward, "I don't understand +this. Mr. Easy will first fight Mr. Biggs, will he not?"</p> + +<p>"No," replied the gunner; "this is a duel of three. You will fire at Mr. +Easy, Mr. Easy will fire at Mr. Biggs, and Mr. Biggs will fire at you. It +is all arranged, Mr. Easthupp."</p> + +<p>"But," said Mr. Easthupp, "I do not understand it. Why is Mr. Biggs to +fire at me? I have no quarrel with Mr. Biggs."</p> + +<p>"Because Mr. Easy fires at Mr. Biggs, and Mr. Biggs must have his shot +as well."</p> + +<p>"But still, I've no quarrel with Mr. Biggs, and therefore, Mr. Biggs, of +course you will not aim at me."</p> + +<p>"Why, you don't think that I'm going to be fired at for nothing?" +replied the boatswain. "No, no; I'll have my shot, anyhow!"</p> + +<p>"But at your friend, Mr. Biggs?"</p> + +<p>"All the same, I shall fire at somebody, shot for shot, and hit the +luckiest."</p> + +<p>"Vel, gentlemen, I purtest against these proceedings," remarked Mr. +Easthupp. "I came here to have satisfaction from Mr. Easy, and not to be +fired at by Mr. Biggs."</p> + +<p>"So you would have a shot without receiving one?" cried Gascoigne. "The +fact is that this fellow's a confounded coward."</p> + +<p>At this affront, Mr. Easthupp rallied, and accepted the pistol offered +by the gunner.</p> + +<p>"You 'ear those words, Mr. Biggs? Pretty language to use to a gentleman! +I purtest no longer, Mr. Tallboys. Death before dishonour--I'm a +gentleman!"</p> + +<p>The gunner gave the word as if he were exercising the great guns on +board ship.</p> + +<p>"Cock your locks! Take good aim at the object! Fire!"</p> + +<p>Mr. Easthupp clapped his hand to his trousers, gave a loud yell, and +then dropped down, having presented his broadside as a target to the +boatswain. Jack's shot had also taken effect, having passed through both +the boatswain's cheeks, without further mischief than extracting two of his +best upper double teeth, and forcing through the hole of the farther cheek +the boatswain's own quid of tobacco. As for Mr. Easthupp's ball, as he was +very unsettled and shut his eyes before he fired, it had gone heaven knows +where.</p> + +<p>The purser's steward lay on the ground and screamed; the boatswain threw +down his pistol in a rage. The former was then walked off to the hospital, +attended by the gunner, and also the boatswain, who thought he might as +well have a little medical advice before going on board.</p> + +<p>"Well, Easy," said Gascoigne, collecting the pistols and tying them up +in his handkerchief, "I'll be shot, but we're in a pretty scrape; there's +no hushing this up. I'll be hanged if I care; it's the best piece of fun I +ever met with."</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid that our leave will be stopped for the future," replied +Jack.</p> + +<p>"Confound it, and they say that the ship is to be here six weeks at +least. I won't go on board. Look ye, Jack, we'll pretend to be so much +alarmed at the result of this duel, that we dare not show ourselves lest we +should be hung. I will write a note and tell all the particulars to the +master's mate, and refer to the gunner for the truth of it, and beg him to +intercede with the captain and first lieutenant. I know that although we +should be punished, they will only laugh; but I will pretend that Easthupp +is killed, and we are frightened out of our lives. That will be it; and +then let's get on board one of the fruit boats, sail in the night for +Palermo, and then we'll have a cruise for a fortnight, and when the money +is all gone we'll come back."</p> + +<p>"That's a capital idea, Ned, and the sooner we do it the better."</p> + +<p>They were two very nice lads.</p> + + +<h4><i>IV.--Jack Leaves the Service</i></h4> + + +<p>At the end of four years at sea, Jack had been cured of his philosophy +of equality. The death of his mother, and a letter from the old family +doctor that his father was not in his senses, decided him to return +home.</p> + +<p>"It is fortunate for you that the estate is entailed," wrote Dr. +Middleton, "or you might soon be a beggar, for there is no saying what +debts your father might, in his madness, be guilty of. He has turned away +his keepers, and allowed poachers to go all over the manor. I consider that +it is absolutely necessary that you should immediately return home and look +after what will one day be your property. You have no occasion to follow +the profession with your income of £8,000 per annum. You have +distinguished yourself, now make room for those who require it for their +subsistence."</p> + +<p>Captain Wilson approved of the decision, and Jack left the service. At +his request, his devoted admirer Mesty--an abbreviation of +Mephistopheles--an African, once a prince in Ashantee and now the cook of +the midshipmen's mess, was allowed to leave the service and accompany our +hero to England as his servant.</p> + +<p>From the first utterances of Jack on the subject of liberty and +equality, he had won Mesty's heart, and in a hundred ways the black had +proved his fidelity and attachment. His delight at going home with his +patron was indescribable.</p> + +<p>Jack had not written to his father to announce his arrival, and when he +reached home he found things worse than he expected.</p> + +<p>His father was at the mercy of his servants, who, insolent and +insubordinate, robbed, laughed at, and neglected him. The waste and expense +were enormous. Our hero, who found how matters stood, soon resolved what to +do.</p> + +<p>He rose early; Mesty was in the room, with warm water, as soon as he +rang.</p> + +<p>"By de power, Massa Easy, your fader very silly old man!"</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid so," replied Jack. "How are they getting on in the servants' +hall?"</p> + +<p>"Regular mutiny, sar--ab swear dat dey no stand our nonsense, and dat we +both leave the house to-morrow."</p> + +<p>Jack went to his father.</p> + +<p>"Do you hear, sir, your servants declare that I shall leave your house +to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"You leave my house, Jack, after four years' absence! No, no, I'll +reason with them--I'll make them a speech. You don't know how I can speak, +Jack."</p> + +<p>"Look you, father, I cannot stand this. Either give me <i>carte +blanche</i> to arrange this household as I please, or I shall quit it +myself to-morrow morning."</p> + +<p>"Quit my house, Jack! No, no--shake hands and make friends with them; be +civil, and they will serve you."</p> + +<p>"Do you consent, sir, or am I to leave the house?"</p> + +<p>"Leave the house! Oh, no; not leave the house, Jack. I have no son but +you. Then do as you please--but you will not send away my butler--he +escaped hanging last assizes on an undoubted charge of murder? I selected +him on purpose, and must have him cured, and shown as a proof of a +wonderful machine I have invented."</p> + +<p>"Mesty," said Jack, "get my pistols ready for to-morrow morning, and +your own too--do you hear? It is possible, father, that you may not have +yet quite cured your murderer, and therefore it is as well to be +prepared."</p> + +<p>Mr. Easy did not long survive his son's return, and under Jack's +management, in which Mesty rendered invaluable assistance, the household +was reformed, and the estate once more conducted on reasonable lines.</p> + +<p>A year later Jack was married, and Mesty, as major domo, held his post +with dignity, and proved himself trustworthy.</p> + +<hr /> + + + + +<h3><a name="Peter_Simple"></a>Peter Simple</h3> + + +<blockquote> "Peter Simple," published in 1833, is in many respects the +best of all Marryat's novels. Largely drawn from Marryat's own professional +experiences, the story, with its vivid portraiture and richness of +incident, is told with rare atmosphere and style. Hogg placed the character +of "Peter Simple" on a level with Fielding's "Parson Adams;" Edgar Allan +Poe, on the other hand, found Marryat's works "essentially mediocre." +</blockquote> + + +<h4><i>I.--I am Sacrificed to the Navy</i></h4> + + +<p>I think that had I been permitted to select my own profession in +childhood, I should in all probability have bound myself apprentice to a +tailor, for I always envied the comfortable seat which they appeared to +enjoy upon the shopboard. But my father, who was a clergyman of the Church +of England and the youngest brother of a noble family, had a lucrative +living, and a "soul above buttons," if his son had not. It has been from +time immemorial the custom to sacrifice the greatest fool of the family to +the prosperity and naval superiority of the country, and at the age of +fourteen, I was selected as the victim.</p> + +<p>My father, who lived in the North of England, forwarded me by coach to +London, and from London I set out by coach for Portsmouth.</p> + +<p>A gentleman in a plaid cloak sat by me, and at the Elephant and Castle a +drunken sailor climbed up by the wheel of the coach and sat down on the +other side.</p> + +<p>I commenced a conversation with the gentleman in the plaid cloak +relative to my profession, and asked him whether it was not very difficult +to learn.</p> + +<p>"Larn," cried the sailor, interrupting us, "no; it may be difficult for +such chaps as me before the mast to larn; but you, I presume, is a reefer, +and they ain't not much to larn, 'cause why, they pipe-clays their weekly +accounts, and walks up and down with their hands in their pockets. You must +larn to chaw baccy and drink grog, and then you knows all a midshipman's +expected to know nowadays. Ar'n't I right, sir?" said the sailor, appealing +to the gentleman in a plaid cloak. "I axes you, because I see you're a +sailor by the cut of your jib. Beg pardon, sir," continued he, touching his +hat; "hope no offence."</p> + +<p>"I am afraid that you have nearly hit the mark, my good fellow," replied +the gentleman.</p> + +<p>At the bottom of Portsdown Hill I inquired how soon we should be at +Portsmouth. He answered that we were passing the lines; but I saw no lines, +and I was ashamed to show my ignorance. The gentleman in a plaid cloak +asked me what ship I was going to join, and whether I had a letter of +introduction to the captain.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I have," replied I. And I pulled out my pocket-book, in which the +letter was. "Captain Savage, H.M. ship Diomede," I read.</p> + +<p>To my surprise, he very coolly took the letter and proceeded to open it, +which occasioned me immediately to snatch the letter from him, stating my +opinion at the same time that it was a breach of honour, and that in my +opinion he was no gentleman.</p> + +<p>"Just as you please, youngster," replied he. "Recollect, you have told +me I am no gentleman."</p> + +<p>He wrapped his plaid around him and said no more, and I was not a little +pleased at having silenced him by my resolute behaviour.</p> + +<p>I stayed at the Blue Posts, where all the midshipmen put up, that night, +and next morning presented myself at the George Inn with my letter of +introduction to Captain Savage.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Simple, I am glad to see you," said a voice. And there sat, with +his uniform and epaulets, and his sword by his side, the passenger in the +plaid cloak who wanted to open my letter and whom I had told to his face +that he was "no gentleman!"</p> + +<p>I thought I should have died, and was just sinking down upon my knees to +beg for mercy, when the captain, perceiving my confusion, burst out into a +laugh, and said, "So you know me again, Mr. Simple? Well, don't be alarmed. +You did your duty in not permitting me to open the letter, supposing me, as +you did, to be some other person, and you were perfectly right, under that +supposition, to tell me that I was not a gentleman. I give you credit for +your conduct. Now, I think the sooner you go on board the better."</p> + +<p>On my arrival on board, the first lieutenant, after looking at me +closely, said, "Now, Mr. Simple, I have looked attentively at your face, +and I see at once that you are very clever, and if you do not prove so in a +<i>very</i> short time, why--you had better jump overboard, that's +all."</p> + +<p>I was very much terrified at this speech, but at the same time I was +pleased to hear that he thought me clever. My unexpected reputation was +shortly afterwards strengthened, when, noticing the first lieutenant in +consultation with the gunner, the former, on my approaching, said, +"Youngster hand me that <i>monkey's tail</i>."</p> + +<p>I saw nothing like a monkey's tail, but I was so frightened that I +snatched up the first thing that I saw, which was a short bar of iron, and +it so happened that it was the very article which he wanted.</p> + +<p>"So you know what a monkey's tail is already, do you?" said the first +lieutenant. "Now don't you ever sham stupid after that."</p> + +<p>A fortnight later, at daylight, a signal from the flagship in harbour +was made for us to unmoor; our orders had come to cruise in the Bay of +Biscay. The captain came on board, the anchor weighed, and we ran through +the Needles with a fine breeze. Presently I felt so very ill that I went +down below. What occurred for the next six days I cannot tell. I thought I +should die every moment, and lay in my hammock, incapable of eating, +drinking, or walking about.</p> + +<p>O'Brien, the senior midshipman and master's mate, who had been very kind +to me, came to me on the seventh, morning and said that if I did not exert +myself I never should get well; that he had taken me under his protection, +and to prove his regard would give me a good basting, which was a sovereign +remedy for sea-sickness. He suited the action to the word, and drubbed me +on the ribs without mercy until I thought the breath was out of my body; +but I obeyed his orders to go on deck immediately, and somehow or other did +contrive to crawl up the ladder to the main deck, where I sat down and +cried bitterly. What would I have given to have been at home again! It was +not my fault that I was the greatest fool of the family, yet how was I +punished for it! But, by degrees, I recovered myself, and certainly that +night I slept very soundly.</p> + +<p>The next morning O'Brien came to me again.</p> + +<p>"It's a nasty slow fever, that sea-sickness, my Peter, and we must drive +it out of you."</p> + +<p>And then he commenced a repetition of yesterday's remedy until I was +almost a jelly. Whether the fear of being thrashed drove away my sickness, +I do not know, but this is certain, that I felt no more of it after the +second beating, and the next morning when I awoke I was very hungry.</p> + + +<h4><i>II.--I am Taken Prisoner</i></h4> + + +<p>One morning at daybreak we found ourselves about four miles from the +town of Cette, and a large convoy of vessels coming round a point. We made +all sail in chase, and they anchored close in shore under a battery, which +we did not discover until it opened fire upon us. The captain tacked the +ship, and stood out again, until the boats were hoisted out, and all ready +to pull on shore and storm the battery. O'Brien, who was the officer +commanding the first cutter on service, was in his boat, and I obtained +permission from him to smuggle myself into it.</p> + +<p>We ran ashore, amidst the fire of the gunboats which protected the +convoy, by which we lost three men, and made for the battery, which we took +without opposition, the French artillerymen running out as we ran in. The +directions of the captain were very positive not to remain in the battery a +minute after it was taken, but to board the gunboats, leaving only one of +the small boats, with the armourer, to spike the guns, for the captain was +aware that there were troops stationed along the coast who might come down +upon us and beat us off.</p> + +<p>The first lieutenant, who commanded, desired O'Brien to remain with the +first cutter, and after the armourer had spiked the guns, as officer of the +boat he was to shove off immediately. O'Brien and I remained in the battery +with the armourer, the boat's crew being ordered down to the boat to keep +her afloat and ready to shove off at a moment's warning. We had spiked all +the guns but one, when all of a sudden a volley of musketry was poured upon +us, which killed the armourer, and wounded me in the leg above the knee. I +fell down by O'Brien, who cried out, "By the powers, here they are, and one +gun not spiked!" He jumped down, wrenched the hammer from the armourer's +hand, and seizing a nail from the bag, in a few moments he had spiked the +gun.</p> + +<p>At this time I heard the tramping of the French soldiers advancing, when +O'Brien threw away the hammer and lifting me upon his shoulders cried, +"Come along, Peter, my boy," and made for the boat as fast as he could. But +he was too late; he had not got half-way to the boat before he was collared +by two French soldiers and dragged back into the battery. The French troops +then advanced and kept up a smart fire; our cutter escaped and joined the +other boat, who had captured the gunboats and convoy with little +opposition.</p> + +<p>In the meantime, O'Brien had been taken into the battery with me on his +back; but as soon as he was there he laid me gently down, saying, "Peter, +my boy, as long as you were under my charge, I'd carry you through thick +and thin; but now that you are under the charge of these French beggars, +why, let them carry you."</p> + +<p>When the troops ceased firing (and if O'Brien had left one gun unspiked +they must have done a great deal of mischief to our boats), the commanding +officer came up to O'Brien, and looking at him, said, "Officer?" to which +O'Brien nodded his head. He then pointed to me--"Officer?" O'Brien nodded +his head again, at which the French troops laughed, and called me an +<i>enfant</i>.</p> + +<p>Then, as I was very faint and could not walk, I was carried on three +muskets, O'Brien walking by my side, till we reached the town of Cette; +there we were taken to the commanding officer's house. It turned out that +this officer's name was also O'Brien, and that he was of Irish descent. He +and his daughter Celeste, a little girl of twelve, treated us both with +every kindness. Celeste was my little nurse, and we became very intimate, +as might be expected. Our chief employment was teaching each other French +and English.</p> + +<p>Before two months were over, I was quite recovered, and soon the time +came when we were to leave our comfortable quarters for a French prison. +Captain Savage had sent our clothes and two hundred dollars to us under a +flag of truce, and I had taken advantage of this to send a letter off which +I dictated to Colonel O'Brien, containing my statement of the affair, in +which I mentioned O'Brien's bravery in spiking the gun and in looking after +me. I knew that he would never tell if I didn't.</p> + +<p>At last the day came for us to leave, and my parting with Celeste was +very painful. I promised to write to her, and she promised to answer my +letters if it were permitted. We shook hands with Colonel O'Brien, thanking +him for his kindness, and much to his regret we were taken in charge by two +French cuirassiers, and so set off, on parole, on horseback for Toulon.</p> + +<p>From Toulon we were moved to Montpelier, and from Montpelier to Givet, a +fortified town in the department of Ardennes, where we arrived exactly four +months after our capture.</p> + + +<h4><i>III.--We Make Our Escape</i></h4> + + +<p>O'Brien had decided at once that we should make our escape from the +prison at Givet.</p> + +<p>First he procured a plan of the fortress from a gendarme, and then, when +we were shown into the room allotted to us, and our baggage was examined, +the false bottom of his trunk was not noticed, and by this means various +instruments he had bought on the road escaped detection. Round his body +O'Brien had also wound a rope of silk, sixty feet long, with knots at every +two feet.</p> + +<p>The practicability of escape from Givet seemed to me impossible. The +yard of the fortress was surrounded by a high wall; the buildings +appropriated for the prisoners were built with lean-to roofs on one side, +and at each side of the square was a sentry looking down upon us. We had no +parole, and but little communication with the towns-people.</p> + +<p>But O'Brien, who often examined the map he had procured from the +gendarme, said to me one day, "Peter, can you swim?"</p> + +<p>"No," replied I; "but never mind that."</p> + +<p>"But I must mind it, Peter; for observe we shall have to cross the River +Meuse, and boats are not always to be had. This fortress is washed by the +river on one side; and as it is the strongest side it is the least +guarded--we must escape by it. I can see my way clear enough till we get to +the second rampart on the river, but when we drop into the river, if you +cannot swim, I must contrive to hold you up somehow or other. But first +tell me, do you intend to try your luck with me?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," replied I, "most certainly, if you have sufficient confidence in +me to take me as your companion."</p> + +<p>"To tell you the truth, Peter, I would not give a farthing to escape +without you. We were taken together, and, please God, we'll take ourselves +off together, directly we get the dark nights and foul weather."</p> + +<p>We had been about two months in Givet when letters arrived. My father +wrote requesting me to draw for whatever money I might require, and also +informing me that as my Uncle William was dead, there was now only one +between him and the title, but that my grandfather, Lord Privilege, was in +good health. O'Brien's letter was from Captain Savage; the frigate had been +sent home with despatches, and O'Brien's conduct represented to the +Admiralty, which had, in consequence, promoted him to the rank of +lieutenant. We read each other's letters, and O'Brien said, "I see your +uncle is dead. How many more uncles have you?"</p> + +<p>"My Uncle John, who is married, and has already two daughters."</p> + +<p>"Blessings on him! Peter, my boy, you shall be a lord before you +die."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense, O'Brien; I have no chance."</p> + +<p>"What chance had I of being lieutenant, and am I not one? And now, my +boy, prepare yourself to quit this cursed hole in a week, wind and weather +permitting. But, Peter, do me one favour. As I am really a lieutenant, just +touch your hat to me, only once, that's all; but I wish the compliment, +just to see how it looks."</p> + +<p>"Lieutenant O'Brien," said I, touching my hat, "have you any further +orders?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," replied he; "that you never presume to touch your hat to me +again, unless we sail together, and then that's a different sort of +thing."</p> + +<p>A week later, O'Brien's preparations were complete. I had bought a new +umbrella on his advice, and this he had painted with a preparation of oil +and beeswax. He had also managed to procure a considerable amount of twine, +which he had turned into a sort of strong cord, or square plait.</p> + +<p>At twelve o'clock on a dark November night we left our room and went +down into the yard. By means of pieces of iron, which he drove into the +interstices of the stone, we scaled a high wall, and dropped down on the +other side by a drawbridge. Here the sentry was asleep, but O'Brien gagged +him, and I threw open the pan of his musket to prevent him from firing.</p> + +<p>Then I followed O'Brien into the river. The umbrella was opened and +turned upwards, and I had only to hold on to it at arm's-length. O'Brien +had a tow line, and taking this in his teeth, he towed me down with the +stream to about a hundred yards clear of the fortress, where we landed. +O'Brien was so exhausted that for a few minutes he remained quite +motionless. I also was benumbed with the cold.</p> + +<p>"Peter," said he, "thank God we have succeeded so far. Now we must push +on as far as we can, for we shall have daylight in two hours."</p> + +<p>It was not till some months later that, after many adventures, we +reached Flushing, and procured the services of a pilot. With a strong tide +and a fair wind we were soon clear of the Scheldt, and next morning a +cutter hove in sight, and in a few minutes we found ourselves once more +under the British pennant.</p> + + +<h4><i>IV.--In Bedlam</i></h4> + + +<p>Once, in the West Indies, O'Brien and I had again come across our good +friend Colonel O'Brien and his daughter Celeste. He was now General +O'Brien, Governor of Martinique; and Celeste was nineteen, and I +one-and-twenty. And though France and England were still at war, before we +parted Celeste and I were lovers, engaged to be married; and the general +raised no objection to our attachment.</p> + +<p>On our return from that voyage a series of troubles overtook me. My +grandfather, Lord Privilege, had begun to take some interest in me; but +before he died my uncle went to live with him, and so poisoned his mind +against me that when the old lord's will was read it was found that +£10,000 bequeathed to me had been cancelled by a codicil. As both my +brothers and my other uncle were dead, my uncle was enraged at the +possibility of my succeeding to the title.</p> + +<p>The loss of £10,000 was too much for my father's reason, and from +lunacy he went quietly to his grave, leaving my only sister, Ellen, to find +a home among strangers.</p> + +<p>In the meantime, O'Brien had been made a captain, and had sailed for the +East Indies. I was to have accompanied him, but my uncle, who had now +succeeded to the title, had sufficient influence at the Admiralty to +prevent this, and I was appointed first lieutenant to a ship whose captain, +an illegitimate son of Lord Privilege, was determined to ruin me. Captain +Hawkins was a cowardly, mean, tyrannical man, and, although I kept my +temper under all his petty persecutions, he managed at last to string +together a number of accusations and, on our return, send me to a +court-martial.</p> + +<p>The verdict of the court-martial was that "the charges of +insubordination had been partly proved, and therefore that Lieutenant Peter +Simple was dismissed his ship; but in consideration of his good character +and services his case was strongly recommended to the consideration of the +Lords Commissioners of the Admiralty."</p> + +<p>I hardly knew whether I felt glad or sorry at this sentence. On the one +hand, in spite of the fourteen years I had served, it was almost a +death-blow to my future advancement or employment in the service; on the +other, the recommendation very much softened down the sentence, and I was +quite happy to be quit of Captain Hawkins and free to hasten to my poor +sister.</p> + +<p>I hurried on shore, but on my journey north fell ill with fever, and for +three weeks was in a state of alternate stupor and delirium, lying in a +cottage by the roadside.</p> + +<p>My uncle, learning of my condition, thought this too favourable an +opportunity, provided I should live, not to have me in his power. He sent +to have me removed, and some days afterwards--for I recollect nothing about +the journey--I found myself in bed in a dark room, and my arms confined. +Where was I? Presently the door opened, and a man entered who took down a +shutter, and the light streamed in. The walls were bare and whitewashed. I +looked at the window; it was closed up with two iron bars.</p> + +<p>"Why, where am I?" I inquired, with alarm.</p> + +<p>"Where are you?" replied he. "Why, in Bedlam!"</p> + +<p>As I afterwards discovered, my uncle had had me confined upon the plea +that I was a young man who was deranged with an idea that his name was +Simple, and that he was the heir to the title and estates, and that it was +more from the fear of my coming to some harm than from any ill-will toward +the poor young man that he wished me to remain in the hospital and be taken +care of. Under these circumstances, I remained in Bedlam for one year and +eight months.</p> + +<p>A chance visit from General O'Brien, a prisoner on parole, who was +accompanied by his friend, Lord Belmore, secured my release; and shortly +afterwards I commenced an action for false imprisonment against Lord +Privilege. But the sudden death of my uncle stopped the action, and gave me +the title and estates. The return of my old messmate, Captain O'Brien, who +had just been made Sir Terence O'Brien, in consequence of his successes in +the East Indies, added to my happiness.</p> + +<p>I found that Sir Terence had been in love with my sister Ellen from the +day I had first taken him home, and that Ellen was equally in love with +him; so when Celeste consented to my entreaties that our wedding should +take place six weeks after my assuming the title, O'Brien took the hint and +spoke.</p> + +<p>Both unions have been attended with as much happiness as this world can +afford. O'Brien and I are blessed with children, until we can now muster a +large Christmas party in the two families.</p> + +<p>Such is the history of Peter Simple, Viscount Privilege, no longer the +fool, but the head, of the family.</p> + +<hr /> + + + + +<h2><a name="CHARLES_MATURIN"></a>CHARLES MATURIN</h2> + + +<h3><a name="Melmoth_the_Wanderer"></a>Melmoth the Wanderer</h3> + + +<blockquote> The romances of Charles Robert Maturin mark the transition +stage between the old crude "Gothic" tales of terror and the subtler and +weirder treatment of the supernatural that had its greatest master in Edgar +Allan Poe. Maturin was born at Dublin in 1782, and died there on October +30, 1824. He became a clergyman of the Church of Ireland; but his leanings +were literary rather than clerical, and his first story, "Montorio" (1807), +was followed by others that brought him increasing popularity. +Over-zealousness on a friend's behalf caused him heavy financial losses, +for which he strove to atone by an effort to write for the stage. Thanks to +the good offices of Scott and Byron, his tragedy, "Bertram," was acted at +Drury Lane in 1816, and proved successful. But his other dramatic essays +were failures, and he returned to romance. In 1820 was published his +masterpiece, "Melmoth the Wanderer," the central figure of which is +acknowledged to be one of the great Satanic creations of literature. The +book has been more appreciated in France than in England; one of its most +enthusiastic admirers was Balzac, who paid it the compliment of writing a +kind of sequel to it. </blockquote> + + +<h4><i>I.--The Portrait</i></h4> + + +<p>"I want a glass of wine," groaned the old man; "it would keep me alive a +little longer."</p> + +<p>John Melmoth offered to get some for him. The dying man clutched the +blankets around him, and looked strangely at his nephew.</p> + +<p>"Take this key," he said. "There is wine in that closet."</p> + +<p>John knew that no one but his uncle had entered the closet for sixty +years--his uncle who had spent his life in greedily heaping treasure upon +treasure, and who, now, on his miserable death-bed, grudged the clergyman's +fee for the last sacrament.</p> + +<p>When John stepped into the closet, his eyes were instantly riveted by a +portrait that hung on the wall. There was nothing remarkable about costume +or countenance, but the eyes, John felt, were such as one feels they wish +they had never seen. In the words of Southey, "they gleamed with demon +light." John held the candle to the portrait, and could distinguish the +words on the border: "Jno. Melmoth, anno 1646." He gazed in stupid horror +until recalled by his uncle's cough.</p> + +<p>"You have seen the portrait?" whispered old Melmoth.</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Well, you will see him again--he is still alive."</p> + +<p>Later in the night, when the miser was at the point of death, John saw a +figure enter the room, deliberately look round, and retire. The face of the +figure was the face of the portrait! After a moment of terror, John sprang +up to pursue, but the shrieks of his uncle recalled him. The agony was +nearly ended; in a few minutes old Melmoth was dead.</p> + +<p>In the will, which made John a wealthy man, there was an instruction to +him to destroy the portrait in the closet, and also to destroy a manuscript +that he would find in the mahogany chest under the portrait; he was to read +the manuscript if he pleased.</p> + +<p>On a cold and gloomy evening John entered the closet, found the +manuscript, and with a feeling of superstitious awe, began to read it. The +task was a hard one, for the manuscript was discoloured and mutilated, and +much was quite indecipherable.</p> + +<p>John was able to gather, however, that it was the narrative of an +Englishman, named Stanton, who had travelled in Spain in the seventeenth +century. On one night of storm, Stanton had seen carried past him the +bodies of two lovers who had been killed by lightning. As he watched, a man +had stepped forward, had looked calmly at the bodies, and had burst into a +horrible demoniac laugh. Stanton saw the man several times, always in +circumstances of horror; he learnt that his name was Melmoth. This being +exercised a kind of fascination over Stanton, who searched for him far and +wide. Ultimately, Stanton was confined in a madhouse by relatives who +wanted to secure his property; and from the madhouse he was offered, but +refused, release by Melmoth as a result of some bargain, the nature of +which was not revealed.</p> + +<p>After reading this story, John Melmoth raised his eyes, and he started +involuntarily as they encountered those of the portrait. With a shudder, he +tore the portrait from its frame, and rushed into his room, where he flung +its fragments on the fire.</p> + +<p>The mansion was close by the iron-bound coast of Wicklow, in Ireland, +and on the next night John was summoned forth by the news that a vessel was +in distress. He saw immediately that the ship was doomed. She lay beating +upon a rock, against which the tempest hurled breakers that dashed their +foam to a height of thirty feet.</p> + +<p>In the midst of the tumult John descried, standing a little above him on +the rock, a figure that showed neither sympathy nor terror, uttered no +sound, offered no help. A few minutes afterwards he distinctly heard the +words, "Let them perish!"</p> + +<p>Just then a tremendous wave dashing over the vessel extorted a cry of +horror from the spectators. When the cry had ceased, Melmoth heard a laugh +that chilled his blood. It was from the figure that stood above him. He +recalled Stanton's narrative. In a blind fury of eagerness, he began to +climb the rock; but a stone gave way in his grasp, and he was hurled into +the roaring deep below.</p> + +<p>It was several days before he recovered his senses, and he then learned +that he had been rescued by the one survivor of the wreck, a Spaniard, who +had clutched at John and dragged him ashore with him. As soon as John had +recovered somewhat, he hastened to thank his deliverer, who was lodged in +the mansion. Having expressed his gratitude, Melmoth was about to retire, +when the Spaniard detained him.</p> + +<p>"Señor," he said, "I understand your name is"--he gasped--"Melmoth?"</p> + +<p>"It is."</p> + +<p>"Had you," said the Spaniard rapidly, "a relative who was, about one +hundred and forty years ago, said to be in Spain?"</p> + +<p>"I believe--I fear--I had."</p> + +<p>"Are you his descendant? Are you the repository of that terrible secret +which--?" He gave way to uncontrollable agitation. Gradually he recovered +himself, and went on. "It is singular that accident should have placed me +within the reach of the only being from whom I could expect either sympathy +or relief in the extraordinary circumstances in which I am +placed--circumstances which I did not believe I should ever disclose to +mortal man, but which I shall disclose to you."</p> + + +<h4><i>II.--The Spaniard's Story</i></h4> + + +<p>I am, as you know, a native of Spain; but you are yet to learn that I am +a descendant of one of its noblest houses--the house of Monçada. +While I was yet unborn, my mother vowed that I should be devoted to +religion. As the time drew near when I was to forsake the world and retire +to a monastery, I revolted in horror at the career before me, and refused +to take the vows. But my family were completely under the influence of a +cunning and arrogant priest, who threatened God's curse upon me if I +disobeyed; and ultimately, with a despairing heart, I consented.</p> + +<p>"The horror with which I had anticipated monastic life was nothing to my +disgust and misery at the realisation of its evils. The narrowness and +littleness of it, the hypocrisies, all filled me with revolt; and it was +only by brooding over possibilities of escape that I could avoid utter +despair. At length a ray of hope came to me. My younger brother, a lad of +spirit, who had quarrelled with the priest who dominated our family, +succeeded with great difficulty in communicating with me, and promised that +a civil process should be undertaken for the reclamation of my vows.</p> + +<p>"But presently my hopes were destroyed by the news that my civil process +had failed. Of the desolation of mind into which this failure plunged me, I +can give no account--despair has no diary. I remember that I used to walk +for hours in the garden, where alone I could avoid the neighbourhood of the +other monks. It happened that the fountain of the garden was out of repair, +and the workmen engaged upon it had had to excavate a passage under the +garden wall. But as this was guarded by day and securely locked by night, +it offered but a tantalising image of escape and freedom.</p> + +<p>"One evening, as I sat gloomily by the door of the passage, I heard my +name whispered. I answered eagerly, and a paper was thrust under the door. +I knew the handwriting--it was that of my brother Juan. From it I learned +that Juan was still planning my escape, and had found a confederate within +the monastery--a parricide who had turned monk to evade his punishment.</p> + +<p>"Juan had bribed him heavily, yet I feared to trust him until he +confided to me that he himself also intended to escape. At length our plans +were completed; my companion had secured the key of a door in the chapel +that led through the vaults to a trap-door opening into the garden. A rope +ladder flung by Juan over the wall would give us liberty.</p> + +<p>"At the darkest hour of the night we passed through the door, and +crawled through the dreadful passages beneath the monastery. I reached the +top of the ladder-a lantern flashed in my eyes. I dropped down into my +brother's arms.</p> + +<p>"We hurried away to where a carriage was waiting. I sprang into it.</p> + +<p>"'He is safe,' cried Juan, following me.</p> + +<p>"'But are you?' answered a voice behind him. He staggered and fell back. +I leapt down beside him. I was bathed in his blood. He was dead. One moment +of wild, fearful agony, and I lost consciousness.</p> + +<p>"When I came to myself, I was lying in an apartment not unlike my cell, +but without a crucifix. Beside me stood my companion in flight.</p> + +<p>"'Where am I?' I asked.</p> + +<p>"'You are in the prison of the Inquisition,' he replied, with a mocking +laugh.</p> + +<p>"He had betrayed me! He had been all the while in league with the +superior.</p> + +<p>"I was tried again and again by the Inquisition--, charged not only with +the crime of escaping from the convent and breaking my religious vows, but +with the murder of my brother. My spirits sank with each appearance before +the judges. I foresaw myself doomed to die at the stake.</p> + +<p>"One night, and for several nights afterwards, a visitor presented +himself to me. He came and went apparently without help or hindrance--as if +he had had a master-key to all the recesses of the prison. And yet he +seemed no agent of the Inquisition--indeed, he denounced it with caustic +satire and withering severity. But what struck me most of all was the +preternatural glare of his eyes. I felt that I had never beheld such eyes +blazing in a mortal face. It was strange, too, that he constantly referred +to events that must have happened long before his birth as if he had +actually witnessed them.</p> + +<p>"On the night before my final trial, I awoke from a hideous dream of +burning alive to behold the stranger standing beside me. With an impulse I +could not resist, I flung myself before him and begged him to save me. He +promised to do so--on one awful and incommunicable condition. My horror +brought me courage; I refused, and he left me.</p> + +<p>"Next day I was sentenced to death at the stake. But before my fearful +doom could be accomplished, I was free--and by that very agency of fire +that was to have destroyed me. The prison of the Inquisition was burned to +the ground, and in the confusion I escaped.</p> + +<p>"When my strength was exhausted by running through the deserted streets, +I leaned against a door; it gave way, and I found myself within the house. +Concealed, I heard two voices--an old man's and a young man's. The old man +was confessing to the young one--his son--that he was a Jew, and entreating +the son to adopt the faith of Israel.</p> + +<p>"I knew I was in the presence of a pretended convert--one of those Jews +who profess to become Catholics through fear of the Inquisition. I had +become possessed of a valuable secret, and instantly acted upon it. I burst +out upon them, and threatened that unless the old man gave me hiding I +should betray him. At first he was panic-stricken, then, hastily promising +me protection, he conducted me within the house. In an inner room he raised +a portion of the floor; we descended and went along a dark passage, at the +end of which my guide opened a door, through which I passed. He closed it +behind me, and withdrew.</p> + +<p>"I was in an underground chamber, the walls of which were lined with +skeletons, bottles containing strange misshapen creatures, and other +hideous objects. I shuddered as I looked round.</p> + +<p>"'Why fearest thou these?' asked a voice.' Surely the implements of the +healing art should cause no terror.'</p> + +<p>"I turned and beheld a man immensely old seated at a table. His eyes, +although faded with years, looked keenly at me.</p> + +<p>"'Thou hast escaped from the clutches of the Inquisition?' he asked +me.</p> + +<p>"'Yes,' I answered.</p> + +<p>"'And when in its prison,' he continued, leaning forward eagerly, 'didst +thou face a tempter who offered thee deliverance at a dreadful price?'</p> + +<p>"'It was so,' I answered, wondering.</p> + +<p>"'My prayer, then, is granted,' he said. 'Christian youth, thou art safe +here. None save mine own Jewish people know of my existence. And I have +employment for thee.'</p> + +<p>"He showed me a huge manuscript.</p> + +<p>"'This,' he said, 'is written in characters that the officers of the +Inquisition understand not. But the time has come for transcribing it, and +my own eyes, old with age, are unequal to the labour. Yet it was necessary +that the work should be done by one who has learnt the dread secret.'</p> + +<p>"A glance at the manuscript showed me that the language was Spanish, but +the characters Greek. I began to read it, nor did I raise my eyes until the +reading was ended."</p> + + +<h4><i>III.--The Romance of Immalee</i></h4> + + +<p>"The manuscript told how a Spanish merchant had set forth for the East +Indies, taking his wife and son with him, and leaving an infant daughter +behind. He prospered, and decided to settle in the East; he sent for his +daughter, who came with her nurse. But their ship was wrecked; the child +and the nurse alone escaped, and were stranded on an uninhabited island +near the mouth of the Hooghly. The nurse died; but the child survived, and +grew up a wild and beautiful daughter of nature, dwelling in lonely +innocence, and revered as a goddess by the natives who watched her from +afar.</p> + +<p>"To the Island, when Immalee (so she called herself) was growing into +pure and lovely womanhood, there came a stranger--pale-faced, wholly +different from the dark-skinned people she had seen from the shores of the +island. She welcomed him with innocent joy. He came often; he told her of +the outer world, of its wickedness and its miseries. She, too untutored to +realise the sinister bitterness of his tone, listened with rapt attention +and sympathy. She loved him. She told him that he was her all, that she +would cling to him wheresoever he went. He looked at her with stern sorrow; +he left her abruptly, nor did he ever visit the island again.</p> + +<p>"Immalee was rescued, her origin was discovered, and she became Isidora +de Aliaga, the carefully nurtured daughter of prosperous and devout Spanish +parents. The island and the stranger were memories of the past. Yet one +day, in the streets of Madrid, she beheld once more the well-remembered +eyes. Soon afterwards she was visited by the stranger. How he entered and +left her home when he came to her--and again he came often--she could not +tell. She feared him, and yet she loved him.</p> + +<p>"At length her father, who had been on another voyage, announced that he +was returning, and bringing with him a suitable husband for his newly-found +daughter. Isidora, in panic, besought the stranger to save her. He was +unwilling. At last, in response to her tears, he consented. They were +wedded, so Isidora believed, by a hermit in a ruined monastery. She +returned home, and he renewed his visits, promising to reveal their +marriage in the fullness of time.</p> + +<p>"Meanwhile, tales had reached her father's ears of a malignant being who +was permitted to wander over the earth and tempt men in dire extremity with +release from their troubles as the result of their concluding an +unspeakable bargain. This being himself appeared to the father, and warned +him that his daughter was in danger.</p> + +<p>"He returned, and pressed on with preparations for the bridal ceremony. +Isidora entreated her husband to rescue her. He promised, and went away. A +masked ball was given in celebration of the nuptials. At the hour of twelve +Isidora felt a touch upon her shoulder. It was her husband. They hastened +away, but not unperceived. Her brother called on the pair to stop, and drew +his sword. In an instant he lay bleeding and lifeless. The family and the +guests crowded round in horror. The stranger waved them back with his arm. +They stood motionless, as if rooted to the ground.</p> + +<p>"'Isidora, fly with me!' he said. She looked at him, looked at the body +of her brother, and sank in a swoon. The stranger passed out amid the +powerless onlookers.</p> + +<p>"Isidora, the confessed bride of an unhallowed being, was taken before +the Inquisition, and sentenced to life-long imprisonment. But she did not +survive long; and ere she died, her husband appeared to her, and offered +her freedom, happiness, and love--at a dreadful price she would not pay. +Such was the history of the ill-fated love of Immalee for a being to whom +mortal love was a boon forbidden."</p> + + +<h4><i>IV.--The Fate of Melmoth</i></h4> + + +<p>When Monçada had completed the tale of Immalee, he announced his +intention of describing how he had left the house of the Jewish doctor, and +what was his purpose in coming to Ireland. A time was fixed for the +continuation of the recital.</p> + +<p>The night when Monçada prepared to resume his story was a dark +and stormy one. The two men drew close to the fire.</p> + +<p>"Hush!" suddenly said Monçada.</p> + +<p>John Melmoth listened, and half rose from his chair.</p> + +<p>"We are watched!" he exclaimed.</p> + +<p>At that moment the door opened, and a figure appeared at it. The figure +advanced slowly to the centre of the room. Monçada crossed himself, +and attempted to pray. John Melmoth, nailed to his chair, gazed upon the +form that stood before him--it was indeed Melmoth the Wanderer. But the +eyes were dim; those beacons lit by an infernal fire were no longer +visible.</p> + +<p>"Mortals," said the Wanderer, in strange and solemn accents, "you are +here to talk of my destiny. That distiny is accomplished. Your ancestor has +come home," he continued, turning to John Melmoth. "If my crimes have +exceeded those of mortality, so will my punishment. And the time for that +punishment is come.</p> + +<p>"It is a hundred and fifty years since I first probed forbidden secrets. +I have now to pay the penalty. None can participate in my destiny but with +his own consent. <i>None has consented.</i> It has been reported of me, as +you know, that I obtained from the enemy of souls a range of existence +beyond the period of mortality--a power to pass over space with the +swiftness of thought--to encounter perils unharmed, to penetrate into +dungeons, whose bolts were as flax and tow at my touch. It has been said +that this power was accorded to me that I might be enabled to tempt +wretches at their fearful hour of extremity with the promise of deliverance +and immunity on condition of their exchanging situations with me.</p> + +<p>"No one has ever changed destinies with Melmoth the Wanderer. <i>I have +traversed the world in search, and no one to gain that world would lose his +own soul!</i>" He paused. "Let me, if possible, obtain an hour's repose. +Ay, repose--sleep!" he repeated, answering the astonishment of his hearers' +looks. "My existence is still human!"</p> + +<p>And a ghastly and derisive smile wandered over his features as he spoke. +John Melmoth and Monçada quitted the apartment, and the Wanderer, +sinking back in his chair slept profoundly.</p> + +<p>The two men did not dare to approach the door until noon next day. The +Wanderer started up, and they saw with horror the change that had come over +him. The lines of extreme age were visible in every feature.</p> + +<p>"My hour is come," he said. "Leave me alone. Whatever noises you may +hear in the course of the awful night that is approaching, come not near, +at peril of your lives. Be warned! Retire!"</p> + +<p>They passed that day in intense anxiety, and at night had no thought of +repose. At midnight sounds of indescribable horror began to issue from the +Wanderer's apartment, shrieks of supplication, yells of blasphemy--they +could not tell which. The sounds suddenly ceased. The two men hastened into +the room. It was empty.</p> + +<p>A small door leading to a back staircase was open, and near it they +discovered the trace of footsteps of a person who had been walking in damp +sand or clay. They traced the footsteps down the stairs, through the +garden, and across a field to a rock that overlooked the sea.</p> + +<p>Through the furze that clothed this rock, there was a kind of track as +if a person had dragged his way, or been dragged, through it. The two men +gained the summit of the rock; the wide, waste, engulfing ocean was +beneath. On a crag below, something hung as floating to the blast. Melmoth +clambered down and caught it. It was the handkerchief which the Wanderer +had worn about his neck the preceding night. That was the last trace of the +Wanderer.</p> + +<p>Melmoth and Monçada exchanged looks of silent horror, and +returned slowly home.</p> + +<hr /> + + + + +<h2><a name="DIEGO_DE_MENDOZA"></a>DIEGO DE MENDOZA</h2> + + +<h3><a name="Lazarillo_de_Tormes"></a>Lazarillo de Tormes</h3> + + +<blockquote> Don Diego Hurtado de Mendoza's career was hardly of a kind +that would be ordinarily associated with a lively romance of vagabondage. A +grandee of high birth, an ambassador of the Emperor Charles V., an +accomplished soldier and a learned historian--such was the creator of the +hungry rogue Lazarillo, and the founder of the "picaresque" school of +fiction, or the romance of roguery, which is not yet extinct. Don Diego de +Mendoza, born early in 1503, was educated at the University of Salamanca, +and spent most of the rest of his days in courts and camps. He died at +Madrid in April 1575. Although written during Mendoza's college days, +"Lazarillo de Tormes" did not appear until 1533, when it was published +anonymously at Antwerp. During the following year it was reprinted at +Bruges, but it fell under the ban of the Inquisition, and subsequent +editions were considerably expurgated. Such was its popularity that it was +continued by inferior authors after Mendoza's death. </blockquote> + + +<h4><i>I.--The Blind Man</i></h4> + + +<p>You must know, in the first place, that my name is Lazarillo de Tormes, +and that I am the son of Thomas Gonzalez and Antonia Perez, natives of +Tejares, a village of Salamanca. My father was employed to superintend the +operations of a water-mill on the river Tormes, from which I took my +surname; and I had only reached my ninth year, when he was taken into +custody for administering certain copious, but injudicious, bleedings to +the sacks of customers. Being thrown out of employment by this disaster, he +joined an armament then preparing against the Moors in the quality of +mule-driver to a gentleman; and in that expedition he, along with his +master, finished his life and services together.</p> + +<p>My widowed mother hired a small place in the city of Salamanca, and +opened an eating-house for the accommodation of students. It happened some +time afterwards that a blind man came to lodge at the house, and thinking +that I should do very well to lead him about, asked my mother to part with +me. He promised to receive me not as a servant, but as a son; and thus I +left Salamanca with my blind and aged master. He was as keen as an eagle in +his own calling. He knew prayers suitable for all occasions, and could +repeat them with a devout and humble countenance; he could prognosticate; +and with respect to the medicinal art, he would tell you that Galen was an +ignoramus compared with him. By these means his profits were very +considerable.</p> + +<p>With all this, however, I am sorry to say that I never met with so +avaricious and so wicked an old curmudgeon; he allowed me almost daily to +die of hunger, without troubling himself about my necessities; and, to say +the truth, if I had not helped myself by means of a ready wit I should have +closed my account from sheer starvation.</p> + +<p>The old man was accustomed to carry his food in a sort of linen +knapsack, secured at the mouth by a padlock; and in adding to or taking +from his store he used such vigilance that it was almost impossible to +cheat him of a single morsel. By means of a small rent, however, which I +slyly effected in one of the seams of the bag, I helped myself to the +choicest pieces.</p> + +<p>Whenever we ate, he kept a jar of wine near him; and I adopted the +practice of bestowing on it sundry loving though stolen embraces. The +fervency of my attachment was soon discovered in the deficiency of the +wine, and the old man tied the jar to himself by the handle. I now procured +a large straw, which I dipped into the mouth of the jar; but the old +traitor must have heard me drink with it, for he placed the jar between his +knees, keeping the mouth closed with his hand.</p> + +<p>I then bored a small hole in the bottom of the jar, and closed it very +delicately with wax. As the poor old man sat over the fire, with the jar +between his knees, the heat melted the wax, and I, placing my mouth +underneath, received the whole contents of the jar. The old boy was so +enraged and surprised that he thought the devil himself had been at work. +But he discovered the hole; and when next day I placed myself under the +jar, he brought the jar down with full force on my mouth. Nearly all my +teeth were broken, and my face was horribly cut with the fragments of the +broken vessel.</p> + +<p>After this, he continually ill-treated me; on the slightest occasion he +would flog me without mercy. If any humane person interfered, he +immediately recounted the history of the jar; they would laugh, and say, +"Thrash him well, good man; he deserves it richly!" I determined to revenge +myself on the old tyrant, and seized an opportunity on a rainy day when a +stream was flowing down the street. I took him to a point where the stream +passed a stone pillar, told him that the water was narrowest there, and +invited him to jump. He jumped accordingly, and gave his poor old pate such +a smash against the pillar that he fell senseless. I took to my heels as +swiftly as possible; nor did I even trouble to inquire what became of +him.</p> + + +<h4><i>II.--The Priest</i></h4> + + +<p>The next day I went to a place called Maqueda, where, as it were in +punishment for my evil deeds, I fell in with a certain priest. I accosted +him for alms, when he inquired whether I knew how to assist at mass. I +answered that I did, which was true, for the blind man had taught me. The +priest, therefore, engaged me on the spot.</p> + +<p>There is an old proverb which speaks of getting out of the frying-pan +into the fire, which was indeed my unhappy case in this change of masters. +This priest was, without exception, the most niggardly of all miserable +devils I have ever met with. He had a large old chest, the key of which he +always carried about him; and when the charity bread came from the church, +he would with his own hands deposit it in the chest and turn the key. The +only other eatable we had was a string of onions, of which every fourth day +I was allowed <i>one</i>. Five farthings' worth of meat was his allowance +for dinner and supper. It is true he divided the broth with me; but my +share of the meat I might have put in my eye instead of my mouth, and have +been none the worse for it; but sometimes, by good luck, I got a little +morsel of bread.</p> + +<p>At the end of three weeks I was so exhausted with sheer hunger that I +could hardly stand on my legs. One day, when my miserable, covetous thief +of a master had gone out, an angel, in the likeness of a tinker, knocked at +the door, and inquired whether I had anything to mend. Suddenly a light +flashed upon me. "I have lost the key of this chest," said I, "can you fit +it?" He drew forth a bunch of keys, fitted it, and lo! the lid of the chest +arose. "I have no money," I said to my preserver, "but give me the key and +help yourself." He helped himself, and so, when he had gone, did I.</p> + +<p>But it was not predestined for me that such good luck should continue +long; for on the third day I beheld the priest turning and counting the +loaves over and over again. At last he said, "If I were not assured of the +security of this chest, I should say that somebody had stolen my bread; but +from this day I shall count the loaves; there remain now exactly nine and a +piece."</p> + +<p>"May nine curses light upon you, you miserable beggar!" said I to +myself. The utmost I dared do, for some days, was to nibble here and there +a morsel of the crust. At last it occurred to me that the chest was old and +in parts broken. Might it not be supposed that rats had made an entrance? I +therefore picked one loaf after another until I made up a tolerable supply +of crumbs, which I ate like so many sugar-plums.</p> + +<p>The priest, when he returned, beheld the havoc with dismay.</p> + +<p>"Confound the rats!" quoth he. "There is no keeping anything from them." +I fared well at dinner, for he pared off all the places which he supposed +the rats had nibbled at, and gave them to me, saying, "There, eat that; +rats are very clean animals." But I received another shock when I beheld my +tormentor nailing pieces of wood over all the holes in the chest. All I +could do was to scrape other holes with an old knife; and so it went on +until the priest set a trap for the rats, baiting it with bits of cheese +that he begged from his neighbours. I did not nibble my bread with less +relish because I added thereto the bait from the rat-trap. The priest, +almost beside himself with astonishment at finding the bread nibbled, the +bait gone, and no rat in the trap, consulted his neighbours, who suggested, +to his great alarm, that the thief must be a snake.</p> + +<p>For security, I kept my precious key in my mouth--which I could do +without inconvenience, as I had been in the habit of carrying in my mouth +the coins I had stolen from my former blind master. But one night, when I +was fast asleep, it was decreed by an evil destiny that the key should be +placed in such a position in my mouth that my breath caused a loud +whistling noise. My master concluded that this must be the hissing of the +snake; he arose and stole with a club in his hand towards the place whence +the sound proceeded; then, lifting the club, he discharged with all his +force a blow on my unfortunate head. When he had fetched a light, he found +me moaning, with the tell-tale key protruding from my mouth.</p> + +<p>"Thank God," he exclaimed, "that the rats and snakes which have so long +devoured my substance are at last discovered!"</p> + +<p>As soon as my wounds were healed, he turned me out of his door as if I +had been in league with the evil one.</p> + + +<h4><i>III.--The Poor Gentleman</i></h4> + + +<p>By the assistance of some kind people I made my way to Toledo, where I +sought my living by begging from door to door. But one day I encountered a +certain esquire; he was well dressed, and walked with an air of ease and +consequence. "Are you seeking a master, my boy?" he said. I replied that I +was, and he bade me follow him.</p> + +<p>He led me through a dark and dismal entry to a house absolutely bare of +furniture; and the hopes I had formed when he engaged me were further +depressed when he told me that he had already breakfasted, and that it was +not his custom to eat again till the evening. Disconsolately I began to eat +some crusts that I had about me.</p> + +<p>"Come here, boy," said my master. "What are you eating?" I showed him +the bread. "Upon my life, but this seems exceedingly nice bread," he +exclaimed; and seizing the largest piece, he attacked it fiercely.</p> + +<p>When night came on, and I was expecting supper, my master said, "The +market is distant, and the city abounds with rogues; we had better pass the +night as we can, and to-morrow we will fare better. Nothing will ensure +length of life so much as eating little."</p> + +<p>"Then truly," said I to myself in despair, "I shall never die."</p> + +<p>I spent the night miserably on a hard cane bedstead without a mattress. +In the morning my master arose, washed his hands and face, dried them on +his garments for want of a towel, and then carefully dressed himself, with +my assistance. Having girded on his sword, he went forth to hear mass, +without saying a word about breakfast. "Who would believe," I said, +observing his erect bearing and air of gentility as he walked up the +street, "that such a fine gentleman had passed the whole of yesterday +without any other food than a morsel of bread? How many are there in this +world who voluntarily suffer more for their false idea of honour, than they +would undergo for their hopes of an hereafter!"</p> + +<p>The day advanced, and my master did not return; my hopes of dinner +disappeared like those of breakfast. In desperation, I went out begging, +and such was the talent I had acquired in this art that I came back with +four pounds of bread, a piece of cow-heel, and some tripe. I found my +master at home, and he did not disapprove of what I had done.</p> + +<p>"It is much better," said he, "to ask, for the love of God, than to +steal. I only charge you on no account to say you live with me."</p> + +<p>When I sat down to supper, my poor master eyed me so longingly that I +resolved to invite him to partake of my repast; yet I wondered whether he +would take it amiss if I did so. But my wishes towards him were soon +gratified.</p> + +<p>"Ah!" said he; "cow-heel is delicious. There is nothing I am more fond +of."</p> + +<p>"Then taste it, sir," said I, "and try whether this is as good as you +have eaten." Presently he was grinding the food as ravenously as a +greyhound.</p> + +<p>In this manner we passed eight or ten days, my master taking the air +every day with the most perfect ease of a man of fashion, and returning +home to feast on the contributions of the charitable, levied by poor +Lazaro. Whereas my former masters declined to feed me, this one expected +that I should maintain him. But I was much more sorry for him than angry at +him, and with all his poverty I found greater satisfaction in serving him +than either of the others.</p> + +<p>At length a man came to demand the rent, which of course my master could +not pay. He answered the man very courteously that he was going out to +change a piece of gold. But this time he made his exit for good. Next +morning the man came to seize my master's effects, and on finding there +were none, he had me arrested. But I was soon found to be innocent, and +released. Thus did I lose my third and poorest master.</p> + + +<h4><i>IV.--The Dealer in Indulgences</i></h4> + + +<p>My fourth master was a holy friar, eager in the pursuit of every kind of +secular business and amusement. He kept me so incessantly on the trot that +I could not endure it, so I took my leave of him without asking it.</p> + +<p>The next master that fortune threw in my way was a bulero, or dealer in +papal indulgences, one of the cleverest and most impudent rogues that I +have ever seen. He practised all manner of deceit, and resorted to the most +subtle inventions to gain his end. A regular account of his artifices would +fill a volume; but I will only recount a little manoeuvre which will give +you some idea of his genius and invention.</p> + +<p>He had preached two or three days at a place near Toledo, but found his +indulgences go off but slowly. Being at his wits' end what to do, he +invited the people to the church next morning to take his farewell. After +supper at the inn that evening, he and the alguazil quarrelled and began to +revile each other, my master calling the alguazil a thief, the alguazil +declaring that the bulero was an impostor, and that his indulgences were +forged. Peace was not restored until the alguazil had been taken away to +another inn.</p> + +<p>Next morning, during my master's farewell sermon, the alguazil entered +the church and publicly repeated his charge, that the indulgences were +forged. Whereupon my devout master threw himself on his knees in the +pulpit, and exclaimed: "O Lord, Thou knowest how cruelly I am calumniated! +I pray Thee, therefore, to show by a miracle the whole truth as to this +matter. If I deal in iniquity may this pulpit sink with me seven fathoms +below the earth, but if what is said be false let the author of the calumny +be punished, so that all present may be convinced of his malice."</p> + +<p>Hardly had he finished his prayer when the alguazil fell down, foaming +at the mouth, and rolled about in the utmost apparent agony. At this +wonderful interposition of Providence, there was a general clamour in the +church, and some terrified people implored my sainted master, who was +kneeling in the pulpit, with his eyes towards heaven, to intercede for the +poor wretch. He replied that no favour should be sought for one whom God +had chastised, but that as we were bidden to return good for evil, he would +try to obtain pardon for the unhappy man. Desiring the congregation to pray +for the sinner, he commanded the holy bull to be placed on the alguazil's +head. Gradually the sufferer was restored, and fell at the holy +commissary's feet, imploring his pardon, which was granted with benevolent +words of comfort.</p> + +<p>Great now was the demand for indulgences; people came flocking from all +parts, so that no sermons were necessary in the church to convince them of +the benefits likely to result to the purchasers. I must confess that I was +deceived at the time, but hearing the merriment which it afforded to the +holy commissary and the alguazil, I began to suspect that it originated in +the fertile brain of my master, and from that time I ceased to be a child +of grace. For, I argued, "If I, being an eye-witness to such an imposition, +could almost believe it, how many more, amongst this poor innocent people, +must be imposed on by these robbers?"</p> + +<p>On leaving the bulero I entered the service of a chaplain, which was the +first step I had yet made towards attaining an easy life, for I had here a +mouthful at will. Having bidden the chaplain farewell, I attached myself to +an alguazil. But I did not long continue in the train of justice; it +pleased Heaven to enlighten and put me into a much better way, for certain +gentlemen procured me an office under government. This I yet keep, and +flourish in it, with the permission of God and every good customer. In +fact, my charge is that of making public proclamation of the wine which is +sold at auctions, etc.; of bearing those company who suffer persecution for +justice's sake, and publishing to the world, with a loud voice, their +faults.</p> + +<p>About this time the arch-priest of Salvador, to whom I was introduced, +and who was under obligations to me for crying his wine, showed his sense +of it by uniting me with one of his own domestics. About this time I was at +the top of the ladder, and enjoyed all kinds of good fortune. This happy +state I conceived would continue; but fortune soon began to show another +aspect, and a fresh series of miseries and difficulties followed her +altered looks--troubles which it would be too cruel a task for me to have +to recount.</p> + +<hr /> + + + + +<h2><a name="DMITRI_MEREJKOWSKI"></a>DMITRI MEREJKOWSKI</h2> + + +<h3><a name="The_Death_of_the_Gods"></a>The Death of the Gods</h3> + + +<blockquote> Among Russian writers whose works have achieved European +reputation, prominence must be given to Dmitri Merejkowski. The son of a +court official, Merejkowski was born in 1866, and began to write verses at +the age of fifteen, his first volume of poems appearing in 1888. Then, nine +years later, came the first of his great trilogy, "The Death of the Gods," +which is continued in "The Resurrection of the Gods," and completed by +"Anti-Christ," the last-named having for its central character the figure +of Peter the Great, the creator of modern Russia. "The Death of the Gods," +by many considered the finest of the three, is a vivid picture of the times +of the Roman Emperor Julian, setting forth the doctrine that the pagan and +the Christian elements in human nature are equally legitimate and sacred, a +doctrine which, in its various guises, runs through the trilogy. +</blockquote> + + +<h4><i>I.--Julian's Boyhood</i></h4> + + +<p>All was dark in the great palace at Macellum, an ancient residence of +Cappadocian princes. Here dwelt Julian and Gallus, the youthful cousins of +the reigning Emperor Constantius, and the nephews of Constantine the Great. +They were the last representatives of the hapless house of the Flavii. +Their father, Julian Constantius, brother of Constantine, was murdered by +the orders of Constantius on his accession to the throne, and the two +orphans lived in constant fear of death.</p> + +<p>Julian was not asleep. He listened to the regular breathing of his +brother, who slept near him on a more comfortable bed, and to the heavy +snore of his tutor Mardonius in the next room. Suddenly the door of the +secret staircase opened softly, and a bright light dazzled Julian. Labda, +an old slave, entered, carrying a metal lamp in her hand.</p> + +<p>The old woman, who loved Julian, and held him to be the true successor +of Constantine the Great, placed the lamp in a stone niche above his head, +and produced honey cakes for him to eat. Then she blessed him with the sign +of the cross and disappeared.</p> + +<p>A heavy slumber fell on Julian, and then he awoke full of fears. He sat +up on his bed, and listened in the silence to the beatings of his own +heart. Suddenly, voices and steps resounded from room to room. Then the +steps approached, the voices became distinct.</p> + +<p>The boy called out, "Gallus, wake up! Mardonius, can't you hear +something?"</p> + +<p>Gallus awoke, and at the same moment old Mardonius, with his grey hair +all dishevelled, entered and rushed towards the secret door.</p> + +<p>"The soldiers of the Prefect! ... Dress! ... We must fly! ..." he +exclaimed.</p> + +<p>Mardonius was too late; all he could do was to draw an old sword and +stand in warlike attitude before the door, brandishing his weapon. The +centurion, who was drunk, promptly seized him by the throat and threw him +out of the way, and the Roman legionaries entered.</p> + +<p>"In the name of the most orthodox and blessed Augustus Constantius +Imperator! I, Marcus Scuda, Tribune of the Fretensian Legion, take under my +safeguard Julian and Gallus, sons of the Patrician Julius Flavius."</p> + +<p>It was Scuda's plan to gain favour with his superiors by boldly carrying +off the lads and sending them down to his barracks at Caesarea. There were +rumours from time to time of their escaping from Macellum, and Scuda knew, +the emperor's fear lest these possible claimants for the throne should gain +a following among the soldiers of the people. At Caesarea they would be in +safe custody.</p> + +<p>For the first time he gazed upon Gallus and Julian. The former, with his +indolent and listless blue eyes and flaxen hair, trembled and blinked, his +eyelids heavy with sleep, and crossed himself. The latter, thin, sickly, +and pale, with large shining eyes, stared at Scuda fixedly, and shook with +bridled rage. In his right hand, hidden by the panther skin of his bed, +which he had flung over his shoulder, he gripped the handle of a Persian +dagger given him by Labda; it was tipped with the keenest of poisons.</p> + +<p>A wild chance of safety suddenly occurred to Mardonius. Throwing aside +his sword, he caught hold of the tribune's mantle, and shrieked out, "Do +you know what you're doing, rascals? How dare you insult an envoy of +Constantius? It is I who am charged to conduct these two princes to court. +The august emperor has restored them to his favour. Here is the order from +Constantinople!"</p> + +<p>"What is he saying? What order is it?" Scuda waited in perplexity while +Mardonius, after hunting in a drawer, pulled out a roll of parchment, and +presented it to the tribune. Scuda saw the name of the emperor, and read +the first lines, without remarking the date of the document. At the sight +of the great imperial seal of dark green wax he became frightened.</p> + +<p>"Pardon, there is some mistake," said the tribune humbly. "Don't ruin +us! We are all brothers and fellow-sinners! I beseech you in the name of +Christ!"</p> + +<p>"I know what acts you commit in the name of Christ. Away with you! +Begone at once!" screamed Mardonius. The tribune gave the order to retire, +and only when the sound of the steps dying away assured Mardonius that all +peril was over did the old man forget his tutorial dignity. A wild fit of +laughter seized him, and he began to dance.</p> + +<p>"Children, children!" he cried gleefully. "Glory to Hermes! We've done +them cleverly! That edict was annulled three years ago! Ah, the idiots, the +idiots!"</p> + +<p>At daybreak Julian fell into a deep sleep.</p> + + +<h4><i>II.--Julian the Emperor</i></h4> + + +<p>Gallus had fallen at the hands of the imperial executioner, and Julian +had been banished to the army in Gaul. Constantius hoped to get news of the +defeat and death of Julian, and was horribly disappointed when nothing was +heard but tidings of victory.</p> + +<p>Julian, successful in arms and worshipped by his soldiers, became more +and more convinced that the old Olympian gods were protecting him and +advancing his cause, and only for prudential reasons did he continue to +attend Christian churches. In his heart he abhorred the crucified Galilean +God of the Christians, and longed for the restoration of the old worship of +Apollo and the gods of Greece and Rome.</p> + +<p>More than two years after the victory of Argentoratum, when Julian had +delivered all Gaul from the barbarians, he received an important letter +from the Emperor Constantius.</p> + +<p>Each new victory in Gaul had maddened the soul of Constantius, and +smitten his vanity to the quick. He writhed with jealousy, and grew thin +and sleepless and sick. At the same time he sustained defeat after defeat +in his own campaign in Asia against the Persians. Musing, during nights of +insomnia, the emperor blamed himself for having let Julian live.</p> + +<p>Finally, Constantius decided to rob Julian of his best soldiers, and +then, by gradually disarming him, to draw him into his toils and deal him +the mortal blow.</p> + +<p>With this intention he sent a letter to Julian by the tribune Decensius, +commanding him to select the most trusted legions, namely, the Heruli, +Batavians, and Celts, and to dispatch them into Asia for the emperor's own +use. Each remaining legion was also to be deflowered of its three hundred +bravest warriors, and Julian's transport crippled of the pick of the +porters and baggage carriers.</p> + +<p>Julian at once warned Decensius, and proved to him that rebellion was +inevitable among the savage legions raised in Gaul, who would almost +certainly prefer to die rather than quit their native soil. But Decensius +took no account of these warnings.</p> + +<p>On the departure of the first cohorts, the soldiers, hitherto only +restrained by Julian's stern and wise discipline, became excited and +tumultuous. Savage murmurs ran through the crowd. The cries came nearer; +wild agitation seized the garrison.</p> + +<p>"What has happened?" asked a veteran.</p> + +<p>"Twenty soldiers have been beaten to death!"</p> + +<p>"Twenty! No; a hundred!"</p> + +<p>A legionary, with torn clothes and terrified appearance, rushed into the +crowd, shouting, "Comrades, quick to the palace! Quick! Julian's just been +beheaded!"</p> + +<p>These words kindled the long-smouldering flame. Everyone began to shout, +"Where is the envoy from the Emperor Constantius?"</p> + +<p>"Down with the envoy!"</p> + +<p>"Down with the emperor!"</p> + +<p>Another mob swept by the barracks, calling out, "Glory to the Emperor +Julian! Glory to Augustus Julian!"</p> + +<p>Then the cohorts, who had marched out the night before, mutinied, and +were soon seen returning. The crowd grew thicker and thicker, like a raging +flood.</p> + +<p>"To the palace! To the palace!" the cry was raised. "Let us make Julian +emperor! Let us crown him with the diadem!"</p> + +<p>Foreseeing the revolt, Julian had not left his quarters nor shown +himself to the soldiers, but for two days and two nights had waited for a +sign.</p> + +<p>The indistinct cries of the mutineers came to him, borne faintly upon +the wind.</p> + +<p>A servant entered, and announced that an old man from Athens desired to +see the Caesar on urgent business. Julian ran to meet the newcomer; it was +the high-priest of the mysteries of Eleusis, whom he had impatiently +expected.</p> + +<p>"Caesar," said the old man, "be not hasty. Decide nothing to-night; wait +for the morrow, the gods are silent."</p> + +<p>Outside could be heard the noise of soldiers pouring into the courtyard, +and thrilling the old palace with their cries. The die was cast, Julian put +on his armour, warcloak, and helmet, buckled on his sword, and ran down the +principal staircase to the main entrance. In a moment the crowd felt his +supremacy; in action his will never vacillated; at his first gesture the +mob was silenced.</p> + +<p>Julian spoke to the soldiers, asked them to restore order, and declared +that he would neither abandon them nor permit them to be taken from +Gaul.</p> + +<p>"Down with Constantius!" cried the legionaries. "Thou art our emperor! +Glory to Augustus Julian the Invincible!"</p> + +<p>Admirably did Julian affect surprise, lowering his eyes, and turning +aside his head with a deprecating gesture of his lifted palms.</p> + +<p>The shouts redoubled. "Silence!" exclaimed Julian, striding towards the +crowd. "Do you think that I can betray my sovereign? Are we not sworn?"</p> + +<p>The soldiers seized his hands, and many, falling at his feet, kissed +them, weeping and crying, "We are willing to die for you! Have pity on us; +be our emperor!"</p> + +<p>With an effort that might well have been thought sincere, Julian +answered, "My children, my dear comrades, I am yours in life and in death! +I can refuse you nothing!"</p> + +<p>A standard-bearer pulled from his neck the metal chain denoting his +rank, and Julian wound it twice around his own neck. This chain made him +Emperor of Rome.</p> + +<p>"Hoist him on a shield," shouted the soldiery. A round buckler was +tendered. Hundreds of arms heaved the emperor. He saw a sea of helmeted +heads, and heard, like the rolling of thunder, the exultant cry, "Glory to +Julian, the divine Augustus!"</p> + +<p>It seemed the will of destiny.</p> + + +<h4><i>III.--The Worship of Apollo</i></h4> + + +<p>Constantius was dead, and Julian sole emperor of Rome.</p> + +<p>Before all the army the golden cross had been wrenched from the imperial +standard, and a little silver statue of the sun-god, Mithra-Helios, had +been soldered to the staff of the Labarum.</p> + +<p>One of the men in the front rank uttered a single word so distinctly +that Julian heard it, "Anti-Christ!"</p> + +<p>Toleration was promised to the Christians, but Julian organised +processions in honour of the Olympian gods, and encouraged in every way the +return of the old and dying worship.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>Five miles from Antioch stood the celebrated wood of Daphne, consecrated +to Apollo. A temple had been built there, where every year the praises of +the sun-god were celebrated.</p> + +<p>Julian, without telling anyone of his intention, quitted Antioch at +daybreak. He wished to find out for himself whether the inhabitants +remembered the ancient sacred feast. All along the road he mused on the +solemnity, hoping to see lads and maidens going up the steps of the temple, +the crowd of the faithful, the choirs, and the smoke of incense.</p> + +<p>Presently the columns and pediments of the temple shone through the +wood, but not a worshipper yet had Julian encountered. At last he saw a boy +of twelve years old, on a path overgrown with wild hyacinth.</p> + +<p>"Do you know, child, where are the sacrificers and the people?" Julian +asked.</p> + +<p>The child made no answer.</p> + +<p>"Listen, little one. Can you not lead me to the priest of Apollo?"</p> + +<p>The boy put a finger to his lips and then to both his ears, and shook +his head gravely. Suddenly he pointed out to Julian an old man, clothed in +a patched and tattered tunic, and Julian recognised a temple priest. The +weak and broken old man stumbled along in drunken fashion, carrying a large +basket and laughing and mumbling to himself as he went. He was red-nosed, +and his watery and short-sighted eyes had an expression of childlike +benevolence.</p> + +<p>"The priest of Apollo?" asked Julian.</p> + +<p>"I am he. I am called Gorgius. What do you want, good man?"</p> + +<p>He smelt strongly of wine. Julian thought his behaviour indecent.</p> + +<p>"You seem to be drunk, old man!"</p> + +<p>Gorgius, in no wise dismayed, put down his basket and rubbed his bald +head.</p> + +<p>"Drunk? I don't think so. But I may have had four or five cups in honour +of the celebration; and, as to that, I drink more through sorrow than +mirth. May the Olympians have you in their keeping!"</p> + +<p>"Where are the victims?" asked Julian. "Have many people been sent from +Antioch? Are the choirs ready?"</p> + +<p>"Victims! Small thanks for victims! Many's the long year, my brother, +since we saw that kind of thing. Not since the time of Constantine. It is +all over--done for! Men have forgotten the gods. We don't even get a +handful of wheat to make a cake; not a grain of incense, not a drop of oil +for the lamps. There's nothing for it but to go to bed and die.... The +monks have taken everything.... Our tale is told.... And you say 'don't +drink.' But it's hard not to drink when one suffers. If I didn't drink I +should have hanged myself long ago."</p> + +<p>"And no one has come from Antioch for this great feast day?" asked +Julian.</p> + +<p>"None but you, my son. I am the priest, you are the people! Together we +will offer the victim to the god. It is my own offering. We've eaten little +for three days, this lad and I, to save the necessary money. Look; it is a +sacred bird!"</p> + +<p>He raised the lid of the basket. A tethered goose slid out its head, +cackling and trying to escape.</p> + +<p>"Have you dwelt long in this temple; and is this lad your son?" +questioned Julian.</p> + +<p>"For forty years, and perhaps longer; but I have neither relatives nor +friends. This child helps me at the hour of sacrifice. His mother was the +great sibyl Diotima, who lived here, and it is said that he is the son of a +god," said Gorgius.</p> + +<p>"A deaf mute the son of a god?" murmured the emperor, surprised.</p> + +<p>"In times like ours if the son of a god and a sibyl were not a deaf mute +he would die of grief," said Gorgius.</p> + +<p>"One thing more I want to ask you," said Julian. "Have you ever heard +that the Emperor Julian desired to restore the worship of the old +gods?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, but ... what can he do, poor man? He will not succeed. I tell +you--all's over. Once I sailed in a ship near Thessalonica, and saw Mount +Olympus. I mused and was full of emotion at beholding the dwellings of the +gods; and a scoffing old man told me that travellers had climbed Olympus, +and seen that it was an ordinary mountain, with only snow and ice and +stones on it. I have remembered those words all my life. My son, all is +over; Olympus is deserted. The gods have grown weary and have departed. But +the sun is up, the sacrifice must be performed. Come!"</p> + +<p>They passed into the temple alone.</p> + +<p>From behind the trees came the sound of voices, a procession of monks +chanting psalms. In the very neighbourhood of Apollo's temple a tomb had +been built in honour of a Christian martyr.</p> + + +<h4><i>IV.--"Thou Hast Conquered, Galilean!"</i></h4> + + +<p>At the beginning of spring Julian quitted Antioch for a Persian campaign +with an army of sixty-five thousand men.</p> + +<p>"Warriors, my bravest of the brave," said Julian, addressing his troops +at the outset, "remember the destiny of the world is in our hands. We are +going to restore the old greatness of Rome! Steel your hearts, be ready for +any fate. There is to be no turning back, I shall be at your head, on +horseback or on foot, taking all dangers and toils with the humblest among +you; because, henceforth, you are no longer my servants, but my children +and my friends. Courage then, my comrades; and remember that the strong are +always conquerors!"</p> + +<p>He stretched his sword, with a smile, toward the distant horizon. The +soldiers, in unison, held up their bucklers, shouting in rapture, "Glory, +glory to conquering Caesar!"</p> + +<p>But the campaign so bravely begun ended in treachery and disaster.</p> + +<p>At the end of July, when the Roman army was in steady retreat, came the +last battle with the Persians. The emperor looked for a miracle in this +battle, the victory which would give him such renown and power that the +Galileans could no longer resist; but it was not till the close of the day +that the ranks of the enemy were broken. Then a cry of triumph came from +Julian's lips. He galloped ahead, pursuing the fugitives, not perceiving +that he was far in advance of his main body. A few bodyguards surrounded +the Caesar, among them old General Victor. This old man, though wounded, +was unconscious of his hurt, not quitting the emperor's side, and shielding +him time after time from mortal blows. He knew that it was as dangerous to +approach a fleeing enemy as to enter a falling building.</p> + +<p>"Take heed, Caesar!" he shouted. "Put on this mail of mine!" But Julian +heard him not, and still rode on, as if he, unsupported, unarmed, and +terrible, were hunting his countless enemies by glance and gesture only +from the field.</p> + +<p>Suddenly a lance, aimed by a flying Saracen who had wheeled round, +hissed, and grazing the skin of the emperor's right hand, glanced over the +ribs, and buried itself in his body. Julian thought the wound a slight one, +and seizing the double-edged barb to withdraw it, cut his fingers. Blood +gushed out, Julian uttered a cry, flung his head back, and slid from his +horse into the arms of the guard.</p> + +<p>They carried the emperor into his tent, and laid him on his camp-bed. +Still in a swoon, he groaned from time to time. Oribazius, the physician, +drew out the iron lance-head, and washed and bound up the deep wound. By a +look Victor asked if any hope remained, and Oribazius sadly shook his head. +After the dressing of the wound Julian sighed and opened his eyes.</p> + +<p>Hearing the distant noise of battle, he remembered all, and with an +effort, rose upon his bed. His soul was struggling against death. Slowly he +tottered to his feet.</p> + +<p>"I must be with them to the end.... You see, I am able-bodied still.... +Quick, give me my sword, buckler, horse!"</p> + +<p>Victor gave him the shield and sword. Julian took them, and made a few +unsteady steps, like a child learning to walk. The wound re-opened; he let +fall his sword and shield, sank into the arms of Oribazius and Victor, and +looking up, cried contemptuously, "All is over! Thou hast conquered, +Galilean!" And making no further resistance, he gave himself up to his +friends, and was laid on the bed.</p> + +<p>At night he was in delirium.</p> + +<p>"One must conquer ... reason must.... Socrates died like a god.... I +will not believe!... What do you want from me?... Thy love is more terrible +than death.... I want sunlight, the golden sun!"</p> + +<p>At dawn the sick man lay calm, and the delirium had left him.</p> + +<p>"Call the generals--I must speak."</p> + +<p>The generals came in, and the curtain of the tent was raised so that the +fresh air of the morning might blow on the face of the dying. The entrance +faced east, and the view to the horizon was unbroken.</p> + +<p>"Listen, friends," Julian began, and his voice was low, but clear. "My +hour is come, and like an honest debtor, I am not sorry to give back my +life to nature, and in my soul is neither pain nor fear. I have tried to +keep my soul stainless; I have aspired to ends not ignoble. Most of our +earthly affairs are in the hands of destiny. We must not resist her. Let +the Galileans triumph. We shall conquer later on!"</p> + +<p>The morning clouds were growing red, and the first beam of the sun +washed over the rim of the horizon. The dying man held his face towards the +light, with closed eyes.</p> + +<p>Then his head fell back, and the last murmur came from his half-open +lips, "Helios! Receive me unto thyself!"</p> + +<hr /> + + + + +<h2><a name="PROSPER_MERIMEE"></a>PROSPER MÉRIMÉE</h2> + + +<h3><a name="Carmen"></a>Carmen</h3> + + +<blockquote> Novelist, archaeologist, essayist, and in all three +departments one of the greatest masters of French style of his century, +Prosper Mérimée was born in Paris on September 23, 1803. The +son of a painter, Mérimée was intended for the law, but at +the age of twenty-two achieved fame as the author of a number of plays +purporting to be translations from the Spanish. From that time until his +death at Cannes on September 23, 1870, a brilliant series of plays, essays, +novels, and historical and archaeological works poured from his fertile +pen. Altogether he wrote about a score of tales, and it is on these and on +his "Letters to an Unknown" that Mérimée's fame depends. His +first story to win universal recognition was "Colombo," in 1830. Seventeen +years later appeared his "Carmen, the Power of Love," of which Taine, in +his celebrated essay on the work, says, "Many dissertations on our +primitive savage methods, many knowing treatises like Schopenhauer's on the +metaphysics of love and death, cannot compare to the hundred pages of +'Carmen.'" </blockquote> + + +<h4><i>I.--I Meet Don José</i></h4> + + +<p>One day, wandering in the higher part of the plain of Cachena, near +Cordova, harassed with fatigue, dying of thirst, burned by an overhead sun, +I perceived, at some distance from the path I was following, a little green +lawn dotted with rushes and reeds. It proclaimed to me the neighbourhood of +a spring, and I saw that a brook issued from a narrow gorge between two +lofty spurs of the Sierra de Cabra.</p> + +<p>At the mouth of the gorge my horse neighed, and another horse that I did +not see answered immediately. A hundred steps farther, and the gorge, +suddenly widening, revealed a sort of natural circus, shaded by the cliffs +which surrounded it. It was impossible to light upon a place which promised +a pleasanter halt to the traveller.</p> + +<p>But the honour of discovering this beautiful spot did not belong to me. +A man was resting there already, and it my entrance, he had risen and +approached his horse. He was a young fellow of medium height, but robust +appearance, with a gloomy and haughty air. In one hand he held his horse's +halter, in the other a brass blunderbuss. The fierce air of the man +somewhat surprised me, but not having seen any robbers I no longer believed +in them. My guide Antonio, however, who came up behind me, showed evident +signs of terror, and drew near very much against his will.</p> + +<p>I stretched myself on the grass, drew out my cigar-case, and asked the +man with the blunderbuss if he had a tinder-box on him. The unknown, +without speaking, produced his tinder-box, and hastened to strike a light +for me. In return I gave him one of my best Havanas, for which he thanked +me with an inclination of the head.</p> + +<p>In Spain a cigar given and received establishes relations of +hospitality, like the sharing of bread and salt in the East. My unknown now +proved more talkative than I had expected. He seemed half famished, and +devoured some slices of excellent ham, which I had put in my guide's +knapsack, wolfishly. When I mentioned I was going to the Venta del Cuervo +for the night he offered to accompany me, and I accepted willingly.</p> + +<p>As we rode along Antonio endeavoured to attract my attention by +mysterious signs, but I took no notice. Doubtless my companion was a +smuggler, or a robber. What did it matter to me? I knew I had nothing to +fear from a man who had eaten and smoked with me.</p> + +<p>We arrived at the venta, which was one of the most wretched I had yet +come across. An old woman opened the door, and on seeing my companion, +exclaimed, "Ah, Señor Don José!"</p> + +<p>Don José frowned and raised his hand, and the old woman was +silent at once.</p> + +<p>The supper was better than I expected, and after supper Don José +played the mandoline and sang some melancholy songs. My guide decided to +pass the night in the stable, but Don José and I stretched ourselves +on mule cloths on the floor.</p> + +<p>Very disagreeable itchings snatched me from my first nap, and drove me +to a wooden bench outside the door. I was about to close my eyes for the +second time, when, to my surprise, I saw Antonio leading a horse. He +stopped on seeing me, and said anxiously, "Where is he?"</p> + +<p>"In the venta; he is sleeping. He is not afraid of the fleas. Why are +you taking away my horse?"</p> + +<p>I then observed that, in order to prevent any noise, Antonio had +carefully wrapped the animal's feet in the remains of an old sack.</p> + +<p>"Hush!" said Antonio. "That man there is José Navarro, the most +famous bandit of Andalusia. There are two hundred ducats for whoever gives +him up. I know a post of lancers a league and a half from here, and before +it is day I will bring some of them here."</p> + +<p>"What harm has the poor man done you that you denounce him?" said I.</p> + +<p>"I am a poor wretch, sir!" was all Antonio could say. "Two hundred +ducats are not to be lost, especially when it is a matter of delivering the +country from such vermin."</p> + +<p>My threats and requests were alike unavailing. Antonio was in the +saddle, he set spurs to his horse after freeing its feet from the rags, and +was soon lost to sight in the darkness.</p> + +<p>I was very much annoyed with my guide, and somewhat uneasy; but quickly +making up my mind, returned to the inn, and shook Don José to awaken +him.</p> + +<p>"Would you be very pleased to see half a dozen lancers arrive here?" I +said.</p> + +<p>He leapt to his feet.</p> + +<p>"Ah, your guide has betrayed me! Your guide! I had suspected him. Adieu, +sir. God repay you the service I am in your debt for. I am not quite as bad +as you think. Yes, there is still something in me deserving the pity of a +gentleman. Adieu!"</p> + +<p>He ran to the stable, and some minutes later I heard him galloping into +the fields.</p> + +<p>As for me, I asked myself if I had been right in saving a robber, +perhaps a murderer, from the gallows only because I had eaten ham and rice +and smoked with him.</p> + +<p>I think Antonio cherished a grudge against me; but, nevertheless, we +parted good friends at Cordova.</p> + + +<h4><i>II.--My Experience with Carmen</i></h4> + + +<p>I passed some days at Cordova searching for a certain manuscript in the +Dominican's library.</p> + +<p>One evening I was leaning on the parapet of the quay, smoking, when a +woman came up the flight of stairs leading to the river and sat down beside +me. She was simply dressed, all in black, and we fell into +conversation.</p> + +<p>On my taking out my repeater watch she was greatly astonished.</p> + +<p>"What inventions they have among you foreigners!"</p> + +<p>Then she told me she was a gipsy, and proposed to tell my fortune.</p> + +<p>"Have you heard people speak of La Carmencita?" she added. "That is +me!"</p> + +<p>"Good!" I said to myself. "Last week I supped with a highway robber; now +to-day I will eat ices with a gipsy. When travelling one must see +everything."</p> + +<p>With that I escorted the Señorita Carmen to a café, and we had +ices.</p> + +<p>My gipsy had a strange and wild beauty, a face which astonished at +first, but which one could not forget. Her eyes, in particular, had an +expression, at once loving and fierce, that I have found in no human face +since.</p> + +<p>It would have been ridiculous to have had my fortune told in a public +café and I begged the fair sorceress to allow me to accompany her to +her domicile. She at once consented, but insisted on seeing my watch +again.</p> + +<p>"Is it really of gold?" she said, examining it with great attention.</p> + +<p>Night had set in, and most of the shops were closed and the streets +almost deserted as we crossed the Guadalquiver bridge, and went on to the +outskirts of the town.</p> + +<p>The house we entered was by no means a palace. A child opened the door, +and disappeared when the gipsy said some words to it in the Romany +tongue.</p> + +<p>Then the gipsy produced some cards, a magnet, a dried chameleon, and +other things necessary for her art. She told me to cross my left hand with +a piece of money, and the magic ceremonies began. It was evident to me that +she was no half-sorceress.</p> + +<p>Unfortunately, we were soon disturbed. Of a sudden the door opened +violently, and a man entered, who denounced the gipsy in a manner far from +polite.</p> + +<p>I at once recognised my friend Don José, and greeted him +cheerfully.</p> + +<p>"The same as ever! This will have an end," he said turning fiercely to +the gipsy, who now started talking to him in her own language. She grew +animated as she spoke, and her eyes became terrible. It appeared to me she +was urging him warmly to do something at which he hesitated. I think I +understood what it was only too well from seeing her quickly pass and +repass her little hand under her chin. There was some question of a throat +to cut, and I had a suspicion that the throat was mine.</p> + +<p>Don José only answered with two or three words in a sharp tone, +and the gipsy, casting a look of deep contempt at him, retired to a corner +of the room, and taking an orange, peeled it and began to eat it.</p> + +<p>Don José took my arm, opened the door, and led me into the +street. We walked some way together in the profoundest silence. Then, +stretching out his hand, "Keep straight on," he Said, "and you will find +the bridge."</p> + +<p>With that he turned his back on me, and walked rapidly away. I returned +to my inn a little crestfallen and depressed. Worst of all was that, as I +was undressing, I discovered my watch was missing.</p> + +<p>I departed for Seville next day, and after several months of rambling in +Andalusia, was once more back in Cordova, on my way to Madrid.</p> + +<p>The good fathers at the Dominican convent received me with open +arms.</p> + +<p>"Your watch has been found again, and will be returned to you," one of +them told me. "The rascal is in gaol, and is to be executed the day after +to-morrow. He is known in the country under the name of José +Navarro, and he is a man to be seen."</p> + +<p>I went to see the prisoner, and took him some cigars. At first he +shrugged his shoulders and received me coldly, but I saw him again on the +morrow, and passed a part of the day with him. It was from his mouth I +learnt the sad adventures of his life.</p> + + +<h4><i>III.--Don José's Story</i></h4> + + +<p>"I was born," he said, "at Elizondo, and my name--Don José +Lizzarrabengoa--will tell you that I am Basque, and an old Christian. If I +take the <i>don</i>, it is because I have the right to do so. One day when +I had been playing tennis with a lad from Alava I won, and he picked a +quarrel with me. We took our iron-tipped sticks, and fought, and again I +had the advantage; but it forced me to quit the country. I met some +dragoons, and enlisted in the Almanza regiment of cavalry. Soon I became a +corporal, and they were under promise to make me sergeant when, to my +misfortune, I was put on guard at the tobacco factory at Seville.</p> + +<p>"I was young then, and I was always thinking of my native country, and +was afraid of the Andalusian young women and their jesting ways. But one +Friday--I shall never forget it--when I was on duty, I heard people saying, +'Here's the gipsy.' And, looking up, I saw her for the first time. I saw +that Carmen whom you know, in whose house I met you some months ago.</p> + +<p>"She made some joke at me as she passed into the factory, and flipped a +cassia flower just between my eyes. When she had gone, I picked it up and +put it carefully in my pocket. First piece of folly!</p> + +<p>"A few hours afterwards I was ordered to take two of my men into the +factory. There had been a quarrel, and Carmen had slashed another woman +with two terrible cuts of her knife across the face. The case was clear. I +took Carmen by the arm, and bade her follow me. At the guard-house the +sergeant said it was serious, and that she must be taken to prison. I +placed her between two dragoons, and, walking behind, we set out for the +town.</p> + +<p>"At first the gipsy kept silence, but presently she turned to me, and +said softly, 'You are taking me to prison! Alas! what will become of me? +Have pity on me, Mr. Officer! You are so young, so good-looking! Let me +escape, and I will give you a piece of the loadstone which will make all +women love you.'</p> + +<p>"I answered her as seriously as I could that the order was to take her +to prison, and that there was no help for it.</p> + +<p>"My accent told her I was from the Basque province, and she began to +speak to me in my native tongue. Gipsies, you know, sir, speak all +languages. She told me she had been carried off by gipsies from Navarro, +and was working at the factory in order to earn enough to return home to +her poor mother. Would I do nothing for a country-woman? The Spanish women +at the factory had slandered her native place.</p> + +<p>"It was all lies, sir. She always lied. But I believed her at the +time.</p> + +<p>"'If I pushed you and you fell,' she resumed, in Basque, 'it would not +be these two conscripts who would hold me.'</p> + +<p>"I forgot my order and everything, and said, "'Very well, my +country-woman; and may our Lady of the Mountain be your aid!'</p> + +<p>"Suddenly Carmen turned round and dealt me a blow on the chest with her +fist. I let myself fall backwards on purpose, and, with one bound, she +leapt over me, and started to run. There was no risk of overtaking her with +our spurs, our sabres, and our lances. The prisoner disappeared in no time, +and all the women-folk in the quarter favoured her escape, and made fun of +us, pointing out the wrong road on purpose. We had to return at last to the +guard-house without a receipt from the governor of the prison.</p> + +<p>"The result of this was I was degraded and sent to prison for a month. +Farewell to the sergeant's stripes, I thought.</p> + +<p>"One day in prison the jailor entered, and gave me a special loaf of +bread.</p> + +<p>"'Here,' he said, 'see what your cousin has sent you.'</p> + +<p>"I was astonished, for I had no cousin in Seville, and when I broke the +loaf I found a small file and a gold piece inside it. No doubt then, it was +a present from Carmen, for a gipsy would set fire to a town to escape a +day's imprisonment, and I was touched by this mark of remembrance.</p> + +<p>"But I served my sentence, and, on coming out, was put on sentry outside +the colonel's door, like a common soldier. It was a terrible +humiliation.</p> + +<p>"While I was on duty I saw Carmen again. She was dressed out like a +shrine, all gold and ribbons, and was going in one evening with a party of +gipsies to amuse the colonel's guests. She recognised me, and named a place +where I could meet her next day. When I gave her back the gold piece she +burst into laughter, but kept it all the same. Do you know, my son,' she +said to me when we parted, 'I believe I love you a little. But that cannot +last. Dog and wolf do not keep house together long. Perhaps, if you adopted +the gipsy law, I would like to become your wife. But it is nonsense; it is +impossible. Think no more of Carmencita, or she will bring you to the +gallows.'</p> + +<p>"She spoke the truth. I would have been wise to think no more of her; +but after that day I could think of nothing else, and walked about always +hoping to meet her, but she had left the town.</p> + +<p>"It was some weeks later, when I had been placed as a night sentinel at +one of the town gates that I saw Carmen. I was put there to prevent +smuggling; but Carmen persuaded me to let five of her friends pass in, and +they were all well laden with English goods. She told me I might come and +see her next day at the same house I had visited before.</p> + +<p>"Carmen had moods, like the weather in our country. She would make +appointments and not keep them, and at another time, would be full of +affection.</p> + +<p>"One evening when I had called on a friend of Carmen's the gipsy entered +the room, followed by a young man, a lieutenant in our regiment.</p> + +<p>"He told me to decamp, and I said something sharp to him. We soon drew +our swords, and presently the point of mine entered his body. Then Carmen +extinguished the lamp, and, wounded though I was, we started running down +the street. 'Great fool,' she said. 'You can do nothing but foolish things. +Besides, I told you I would bring you bad luck.' She made me take off my +uniform and put on a striped cloak, and this with a handkerchief over my +head, enabled me to pass fairly well for a peasant. Then she took me to a +house at the end of a little lane, and she and another gipsy washed and +dressed my wounds. Next day Carmen pointed out to me the new career she +destined me for. I was to go to the coast and become a smuggler. In truth +it was the only one left me, now that I had incurred the punishment of +death. Besides, I believed I could make sure of her love. Carmen introduced +me to her people, and at first the freedom of the smuggler's life pleased +me better than the soldier's life. I saw Carmen often, and she showed more +liking for me than ever; but, she would not admit that she was willing to +be my wife.</p> + + +<h4><i>IV.--The End of Don José's Story</i></h4> + + +<p>"One becomes a rogue without thinking, sir. A pretty girl makes one lose +one's head, one fights for her, a misfortune happens, one is driven to the +mountains, from smuggler one becomes robber before reflecting.</p> + +<p>"Carmen often made me jealous, especially after she accepted me as her +husband, and she warned me not to interfere with her freedom. On my part I +wanted to change my way of life, but when I spoke to her about quitting +Spain and trying to live honestly in America, she laughed at me.</p> + +<p>"'We are not made for planting cabbages,' she said; '<i>our</i> destiny +is to live at the expense of others.' Then she told me of a fresh piece of +smuggling on hand, and I let myself be persuaded to resume the wretched +traffic.</p> + +<p>"While I was in hiding at Granada, there were bullfights to which Carmen +went. When she returned, she spoke much of a very skilful picador, named +Lucas. She knew the name of his horse, and how much his embroidered jacket +cost him. I paid no heed to this, but began to grow alarmed when I heard +that Carmen had been seen about with Lucas. I asked her how and why she had +made his acquaintance.</p> + +<p>"'He is a man,' she said, 'with whom business can be done. He has won +twelve hundred pounds at the bullfights. One of two things: we must either +have the money, or, as he is a good horseman, we can enroll him in our +band.'</p> + +<p>"'I wish,' I replied, 'neither his money nor his person, and I forbid +you to speak to him.'</p> + +<p>"'Take care,' she said; 'when anyone dares me to do a thing it is soon +done.'</p> + +<p>"Luckily the picador left for Malaga, and I set about my smuggling. I +had a great deal to do in this expedition, and it was about that time I +first met you. Carmen robbed you of your watch at our last interview, and +she wanted your money as well. We had a violent dispute about that, and I +struck her. She turned pale and wept. It was the first time I saw her weep, +and it had a terrible effect on me. I begged her pardon, but it was not +till three days later that she would kiss me.</p> + +<p>"'There is a fête at Cordova,' she said, when we were friends +again. 'I am going to see it, then I shall find out the people who carry +money with them and tell you.'</p> + +<p>"I let her go, but when a peasant told me there was a bull-fight at +Cordova, I set off like a madman to the spot. Lucas was pointed out to me, +and on the bench close to the barrier I recognised Carmen. It was enough +for me to see her to be certain how things stood. Lucas, at the first bull, +did the gallant, as I had foreseen. He tore the bunch of ribbons from the +bull and carried it to Carmen, who put it in her hair on the spot. The bull +took upon itself the task of avenging me. Lucas was thrown down with his +horse on his chest, and the bull on the top of both. I looked at Carmen, +she had already left her seat, but I was so wedged in I was obliged to wait +for the end of the fights.</p> + +<p>"I got home first, however, and Carmen only arrived at two o'clock in +the morning.</p> + +<p>"'Come with me,' I said.</p> + +<p>"'Very well, let us go,' she answered.</p> + +<p>"I went and fetched my horse; I put her behind me, and we travelled all +the rest of the night without speaking. At daybreak we were in a solitary +gorge.</p> + +<p>"'Listen,' I said to Carmen, 'I forget everything. Only swear to me one +thing, that you will follow me to America, and live there quietly with +me.'</p> + +<p>"'No,' she said, in a sulky tone, 'I do not want to go to America. I am +quite comfortable here.'</p> + +<p>"I implored her to let us change our way of life and Carmen answered, 'I +will follow you to death, but I will not live with you any longer. I always +thought you meant to kill me, and now I see that is what you are going to +do. It is destiny, but you will not make me yield.'</p> + +<p>"'Listen to me!' I said, 'for the last time. You know that it is for you +I have become a robber and a murderer. Carmen! my Carmen, there is still +time for us to save ourselves,' I promised anything and everything if she +would love me again.</p> + +<p>"'José,' she replied, 'you ask me for the impossible. I do not +love you any more. All is over between us. You have the right to kill me. +But Carmen must always be free. To love you is impossible, and I do not +wish to live with you.'</p> + +<p>"Fury took possession of me, and I killed her with my knife. An hour +later I laid her in a grave in the wood. Then I mounted my horse, galloped +to Cordova, and gave myself up at the first guard-house.... Poor Carmen! it +is the gipsies who are to blame for having brought her up like that."</p> + +<hr /> + + + + +<h2><a name="MARY_RUSSELL_MITFORD"></a>MARY RUSSELL MITFORD</h2> + + +<h3><a name="Our_Village"></a>Our Village</h3> + + +<blockquote> Mary Russell Mitford was known first as a dramatist, with +tragedy as her forte, and in later years as a novelist, but by posterity +she will be remembered as a portrayer of country life, in simply worded +sketches, with a quiet colouring of humour. These sketches were collected, +as "Our Village," into five volumes, between 1824 and 1832. Miss Mitford +was born Dec. 16, 1787, at Alresford, Hampshire, England, the daughter of a +foolish spendthrift father, to whom she was pathetically devoted, and lived +in her native county almost throughout her life. In her later years she +received a Civil List pension. She died on January 10, 1855. The quietness +of the country is in all Miss Mitford's writing, but it is a cheerful +country, pervaded by a rosy-cheeked optimism. Her letters, too, scribbled +on small scraps of paper, are as attractive as her books. </blockquote> + + +<h4><i>I.--Some of the Inhabitants</i></h4> + + +<p>Will you walk with me through our village, courteous reader? The journey +is not long. We will begin at the lower end, and proceed up the hill.</p> + +<p>The tidy, square, red cottage on the right hand, with the long, +well-stocked garden by the side of the road, belongs to a retired publican +from a neighbouring town; a substantial person with a comely wife--one who +piques himself on independence and idleness, talks politics, reads the +newspapers, hates the minister, and cries out for reform. He hangs over his +gate, and tries to entice passengers to stop and chat. Poor man! He is a +very respectable person, and would be a very happy one if he would add a +little employment to his dignity. It would be the salt of life to him.</p> + +<p>Next to his house, though parted from it by another long garden with a +yew arbour at the end, is the pretty dwelling of the shoemaker, a pale, +sickly-looking, black-haired man, the very model of sober industry. There +he sits in his little shop from early morning till late at night. An +earthquake would hardly stir him. There is at least as much vanity in his +industry as in the strenuous idleness of the retired publican. The +shoemaker has only one pretty daughter, a light, delicate, fair-haired girl +of fourteen, the champion, protectress, and play-fellow of every brat under +three years old, whom she jumps, dances, dandles, and feeds all day long. A +very attractive person is that child-loving girl. She likes flowers, and +has a profusion of white stocks under her window, as pure and delicate as +herself.</p> + +<p>The first house on the opposite side of the way is the blacksmith's--a +gloomy dwelling, where the sun never seems to shine; dark and smoky within +and without, like a forge. The blacksmith is a high officer in our little +state, nothing less than a constable; but alas, alas! when tumults arise, +and the constable is called for, he will commonly be found in the thickest +of the fray. Lucky would it be for his wife and her eight children if there +were no public-house in the land.</p> + +<p>Then comes the village shop, like other village shops, multifarious as a +bazaar--a repository for bread, shoes, tea, cheese, tape, ribbons, and +bacon; for everything, in short, except the one particular thing which you +happen to want at the moment, and will be sure not to find.</p> + +<p>Divided from the shop by a narrow yard is a habitation of whose inmates +I shall say nothing. A cottage--no, a miniature house, all angles, and of a +charming in-and-outness; the walls, old and weather-stained, covered with +hollyhocks, roses, honeysuckles, and a great apricot-tree; the casements +full of geraniums (oh, there is our superb white cat peeping out from among +them!); the closets (our landlord has the assurance to call them rooms) +full of contrivances and corner-cupboards; and the little garden behind +full of common flowers. That house was built on purpose to show in what an +exceeding small compass comfort may be packed.</p> + +<p>The next tenement is a place of importance, the Rose Inn--a whitewashed +building, retired from the road behind its fine swinging sign, with a +little bow-window room coming out on one side, and forming, with our stable +on the other, a sort of open square, which is the constant resort of carts, +waggons, and return chaises.</p> + +<p>Next door lives a carpenter, "famed ten miles around, and worthy all his +fame," with his excellent wife and their little daughter Lizzy, the +plaything and queen of the village--a child three years old according to +the register, but six in size and strength and intellect, in power and +self-will. She manages everybody in the place; makes the lazy carry her, +the silent talk to her, and the grave to romp with her. Her chief +attraction lies in her exceeding power of loving, and her firm reliance on +the love and the indulgence of others.</p> + +<p>How pleasantly the road winds up the hill, with its broad, green borders +and hedgerows so thickly timbered! How finely the evening sun falls on that +sandy, excavated bank, and touches the farmhouse on the top of the +eminence!</p> + + +<h4><i>II.--Hannah Bint</i></h4> + + +<p>The shaw leading to Hannah Bint's habitation is a very pretty mixture of +wood and coppice. A sudden turn brings us to the boundary of the shaw, and +there, across the open space, the white cottage of the keeper peeps from +the opposite coppice; and the vine-covered dwelling of Hannah Bint rises +from amidst the pretty garden, which lies bathed in the sunshine around +it.</p> + +<p>My friend Hannah Bint is by no means an ordinary person. Her father, +Jack Bint (for in all his life he never arrived at the dignity of being +called John), was a drover of high repute in his profession. No man between +Salisbury Plain and Smithfield was thought to conduct a flock of sheep so +skilfully through all the difficulties of lanes and commons, streets and +high-roads, as Jack Bint, aided by Jack Bint's famous dog, Watch.</p> + +<p>No man had a more thorough knowledge of the proper night stations, where +good feed might be procured for his charge, and good liquor for Watch and +himself; Watch, like other sheepdogs, being accustomed to live chiefly on +bread and beer, while his master preferred gin.</p> + +<p>But when a rheumatic fever came one hard winter, and finally settled in +Jack Bint's limbs, reducing the most active and handy man in the parish to +the state of a confirmed cripple, poor Jack, a thoughtless but kind +creature, looked at his three motherless children with acute misery. Then +it was that he found help where he least expected it--in the sense and +spirit of his young daughter, a girl of twelve years old.</p> + +<p>Hannah was a quick, clever lass of a high spirit, a firm temper, some +pride, and a horror of accepting parochial relief--that surest safeguard to +the sturdy independence of the English character. So when her father talked +of giving up their comfortable cottage and removing to the workhouse, while +she and her brothers must move to service, Hannah formed a bold resolution, +and proceeded to act at once on her own plans and designs.</p> + +<p>She knew that the employer in whose service her father's health had +suffered so severely was a rich and liberal cattle-dealer in the +neighbourhood, who would willingly aid an old and faithful servant. Of +Farmer Oakley, accordingly, she asked, not money, but something much more +in his own way--a cow! And, amused and interested by the child's +earnestness, the wealthy yeoman gave her a very fine young Alderney.</p> + +<p>She then went to the lord of the manor, and, with equal knowledge of +character, begged his permission to keep her cow on the shaw common. He, +too, half from real good nature, and half not to be outdone in liberality +by his tenant, not only granted the requested permission, but reduced the +rent so much that the produce of the vine seldom failed to satisfy their +kind landlord.</p> + +<p>Now Hannah showed great judgment in setting up as a dairy-woman. One of +the most provoking of the petty difficulties which beset a small +establishment in this neighbourhood is the trouble, almost the +impossibility, of procuring the pastoral luxuries of milk, eggs, and +butter. Hannah's Alderney restored us to our rural privilege. Speedily she +established a regular and gainful trade in milk, eggs, butter, honey, and +poultry--for poultry they had always kept.</p> + +<p>In short, during the five years she has ruled at the shaw cottage the +world has gone well with Hannah Bint. She has even taught Watch to like the +buttermilk as well as strong beer, and has nearly persuaded her father to +accept milk as a substitute for gin. Not but that Hannah hath had her +enemies as well as her betters. The old woman at the lodge, who always +piqued herself on being spiteful, and crying down new ways, foretold that +she would come to no good; nay, even Ned Miles, the keeper, her next +neighbour, who had whilom held entire sway over the shaw common, as well as +its coppices, grumbled as much as so good-natured and genial a person could +grumble when he found a little girl sharing his dominion, a cow grazing +beside his pony, and vulgar cocks and hens hovering around the buckwheat +destined to feed his noble pheasants.</p> + +<p>Yes! Hannah hath had her enemies, but they are passing away. The old +woman at the lodge is dead, poor creature; and the keeper?--why, he is not +dead, or like to die, but the change that has taken place there is the most +astonishing of all--except perhaps the change in Hannah herself.</p> + +<p>Few damsels of twelve years old, generally a very pretty age, were less +pretty than Hannah Bint. Short and stunted in her figure, thin in face, +sharp in feature, with a muddied complexion, wild, sunburnt hair, and eyes +whose very brightness had in them something startling, over-informed, too +clever for her age; at twelve years old she had quite the air of a little +old fairy.</p> + +<p>Now, at seventeen, matters are mended. Her complexion has cleared; her +countenance has developed itself; her figure has shot up into height and +lightness, and a sort of rustic grace; her bright, acute eye is softened +and sweetened by a womanly wish to please; her hair is trimmed and curled +and brushed with exquisite neatness; and her whole dress arranged with that +nice attention to the becoming which would be called the highest degree of +coquetry if it did not deserve the better name of propriety. The lass is +really pretty, and Ned Miles has discovered that she is so. There he +stands, the rogue, close at her side (for he hath joined her whilst we have +been telling her little story, and the milking is over); there he stands +holding her milk-pail in one hand, and stroking Watch with the other. There +they stand, as much like lovers as may be; he smiling and she blushing; he +never looking so handsome, nor she so pretty, in their lives.</p> + +<p>There they stand, and one would not disturb them for all the milk and +the butter in Christendom. I should not wonder if they were fixing the +wedding-day.</p> + + +<h4><i>III.--A Country Cricket Match</i></h4> + + +<p>I doubt if there be any scene in the world more animating or delightful +than a cricket match. I do not mean a set match at Lord's Ground--no! the +cricket I mean is a real solid, old-fashioned match between neighbouring +parishes, where each attacks the other for honour and a supper.</p> + +<p>For the last three weeks our village has been in a state of great +excitement, occasioned by a challenge from our north-western neighbours, +the men of B----, to contend with us at cricket. Now, we have not been much +in the habit of playing matches. The sport had languished until the present +season, when the spirit began to revive. Half a dozen fine, active lads, of +influence among their comrades, grew into men and yearned for cricket. In +short, the practice recommenced, and the hill was again alive with men and +boys and innocent merriment. Still, we were modest and doubted our own +strength.</p> + +<p>The B---- people, on the other hand, must have been braggers born. Never +was such boasting! Such ostentatious display of practice! It was a wonder +they did not challenge all England. Yet we firmly resolved not to decline +the combat; and one of the most spirited of the new growth, William Grey by +name, and a farmer's son by station, took up the glove in a style of manly +courtesy that would have done honour to a knight in the days of +chivalry.</p> + +<p>William Grey then set forth to muster his men, remembering with great +complacency that Samuel Long, the very man who had bowled us out at a fatal +return match some years ago at S--, our neighbours south-by-east, had +luckily, in a remove of a quarter of a mile last Lady Day, crossed the +boundaries of his old parish and actually belonged to us. Here was a stroke +of good fortune! Our captain applied to him instantly, and he agreed at a +word. We felt we had half gained the match when we had secured him. Then +James Brown, a journeyman blacksmith and a native, who, being of a rambling +disposition, had roamed from place to place for half a dozen years, had +just returned to our village with a prodigious reputation in cricket and +gallantry. To him also went the indefatigable William Grey, and he also +consented to play. Having thus secured two powerful auxiliaries, we began +to reckon the regular forces.</p> + +<p>Thus ran our list. William Grey, 1; Samuel Long, 2; James Brown, 3; +George and John Simmons, one capital, the other so-so--an uncertain hitter, +but a good fieldsman, 5; Joel Brent, excellent, 6; Ben Appleton--here was a +little pause, for Ben's abilities at cricket were not completely +ascertained, but then he was a good fellow, so full of fun and waggery! No +doing without Ben. So he figured in the list as 7. George Harris--a short +halt there too--slowish, but sure, 8; Tom Coper--oh, beyond the world Tom +Coper, the red-headed gardening lad, whose left-handed strokes send +<i>her</i> (a cricket-ball is always of the feminine gender) send her +spinning a mile, 9; Harry Willis, another blacksmith, 10.</p> + +<p>We had now ten of our eleven, but the choice of the last occasioned some +demur. John Strong, a nice youth--everybody likes John Strong--was the next +candidate, but he is so tall and limp that we were all afraid his strength, +in spite of his name, would never hold out. So the eve of the match arrived +and the post was still vacant, when a little boy of fifteen, David Willis, +brother to Harry, admitted by accident to the last practice, saw eight of +them out, and was voted in by acclamation.</p> + +<p>Morning dawned. On calling over our roll, Brown was missing; and it +transpired that he had set off at four o'clock in the morning to play in a +cricket match at M----, a little town twelve miles off, which had been his +last residence. Here was desertion! Here was treachery! How we cried him +down! We were well rid of him, for he was no batter compared with William +Grey; not fit to wipe the shoes of Samuel Long as a bowler; the boy David +Willis was worth fifty of him. So we took tall John Strong. I never saw any +one prouder than the good-humoured lad was at this not very flattering +piece of preferment.</p> + +<p><i>They</i> began the warfare--these boastful men of B----! And what +think you was the amount of their innings? These challengers--the famous +eleven--how many did they get? Think! Imagine! Guess! You cannot. Well, +they got twenty-two, or, rather, they got twenty, for two of theirs were +short notches, and would never have been allowed, only that, seeing what +they were made of, we and our umpires were not particular. Oh, how well we +fielded.</p> + +<p>Then we went in. And what of our innings? Guess! A hundred and +sixty-nine! We headed them by a hundred and forty-seven; and then they gave +in, as well they might. William Grey pressed them much to try another +innings, but they were beaten sulky and would not move.</p> + +<p>The only drawback in my enjoyment was the failure of the pretty boy +David Willis, who, injudiciously put in first, and playing for the first +time in a match amongst men and strangers, was seized with such a fit of +shamefaced shyness that he could scarcely hold his bat, and was bowled out +without a stroke, from actual nervousness. Our other modest lad, John +Strong, did very well; his length told in the field, and he got good fame. +William Grey made a hit which actually lost the cricket-ball. We think she +lodged in a hedge a quarter of a mile off, but nobody could find her. And +so we parted; the players retired to their supper and we to our homes, all +good-humoured and all happy--except the losers.</p> + + +<h4><i>IV.--Love, the Leveller</i></h4> + + +<p>The prettiest cottage on our village green is the little dwelling of +Dame Wilson. The dame was a respected servant in a most respectable family, +which she quitted only on her marriage with a man of character and +industry, and of that peculiar universality of genius which forms what is +called, in country phrase, a handy fellow. His death, which happened about +ten years ago, made quite a gap in our village commonwealth.</p> + +<p>Without assistance Mrs. Wilson contrived to maintain herself and her +children in their old, comfortable home. The house had still, within and +without, the same sunshiny cleanliness, and the garden was still famous +over all other gardens. But the sweetest flower of the garden, and the joy +and pride of her mother's heart, was her daughter Hannah. Well might she be +proud of her! At sixteen, Hannah Wilson was, beyond a doubt, the prettiest +girl in the village, and the best. Her chief characteristic was modesty. +Her mind was like her person: modest, graceful, gentle and generous above +all.</p> + +<p>Our village beauty had fairly reached her twentieth year without a +sweetheart; without the slightest suspicion of her having ever written a +love-letter on her own account, when, all of a sudden, appearances changed. +A trim, elastic figure, not unaccompanied, was descried walking down the +shady lane. Hannah had gotten a lover!</p> + +<p>Since the new marriage act, we, who belong to the country magistrates, +have gained a priority over the rest of the parish in matrimonial news. We +(the privileged) see on a work-day the names which the Sabbath announces to +the generality. One Saturday, walking through our little hall, I saw a fine +athletic young man, the very image of health and vigour, mental and bodily, +holding the hand of a young woman, who was turning bashfully away, +listening, and yet not seeming to listen, to his tender whispers. Hannah! +And she went aside with me, and a rapid series of questions and answers +conveyed the story of the courtship. "William was," said Hannah, "a +journeyman hatter, in B----. He had walked over to see the cricketing, and +then he came again. Her mother liked him. Everybody liked him--and she had +promised. Was it wrong?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no! And where are you to live?" "William had got a room in B----. +He works for Mr. Smith, the rich hatter in the market-place, and Mr. Smith +speaks of him, oh, so well! But William will not tell me where our room is. +I suppose in some narrow street or lane, which he is afraid I shall not +like, as our common is so pleasant. He little thinks--anywhere--" She +stopped suddenly. "Anywhere with him!"</p> + +<p>The wedding-day was a glorious morning.</p> + +<p>"What a beautiful day for Hannah!" was the first exclamation at the +breakfast-table. "Did she tell you where they should dine?"</p> + +<p>"No, ma'am; I forgot to ask."</p> + +<p>"I can tell you," said the master of the house, with the look of a man +who, having kept a secret as long as it was necessary, is not sorry to get +rid of the burthen. "I can tell you--in London."</p> + +<p>"In London?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Your little favourite has been in high luck. She has married the +only son of one of the best and richest men in B----, Mr. Smith, the great +hatter. It is quite a romance. William Smith walked over to see a match, +saw our pretty Hannah, and forgot to look at the cricketers. He came again +and again, and at last contrived to tame this wild dove, and even to get +the <i>entrée</i> of the cottage. Hearing Hannah talk is not the way +to fall out of love with her. So William, finding his case serious, laid +the matter before his father, and requested his consent to the marriage. +Mr. Smith was at first a little startled. But William is an only son, and +an excellent son; and after talking with me, and looking at Hannah, the +father relented. But, having a spice of his son's romance, and finding that +he had not mentioned his station in life, he made a point of its being kept +secret till the wedding-day. I hope the shock will not kill Hannah."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no! Hannah loves her husband too well."</p> + +<p>And I was right. Hannah has survived the shock. She is returned to +B----, and I have been to call on her. She is still the same Hannah, and +has lost none of her old habits of kindness and gratitude. She did indeed +just hint at her trouble with visitors and servants; seemed distressed at +ringing the bell, and visibly shrank from the sound of a double knock. But +in spite of these calamities Hannah is a happy woman. The double rap was +her husband's, and the glow on her cheek, and the smile of her lips and +eyes when he appeared spoke more plainly than ever: "Anywhere with +him!"</p> + +<hr /> + + + + +<h2><a name="DAVID_MOIR"></a>DAVID MOIR</h2> + + +<h3><a name="Autobiography_of_Mansie_Wauch"></a>Autobiography of Mansie +Wauch</h3> + + +<blockquote> David Macbeth Moir was born at Musselburgh, Scotland, Jan. 5, +1798, and educated at the grammar school of the Royal Burgh and at +Edinburgh University, from which he received the diploma of surgeon in +1816. He practised as a physician in his native town from 1817 until 1843, +when, health failing, he practically withdrew from the active duties of his +profession. Moir began to write in both prose and verse for various +periodicals when quite a youth, but his long connection with "Blackwood's +Magazine" under the pen name of "Delta" (Δ), began in 1820, and +he became associated with Christopher North, the Ettrick Shepherd, and +others of the Edinburgh coterie distinguished in "Noctes Ambrosianae." He +contributed to "Blackwood," histories, biographies, essays, and poems, to +the number of about 400. His poems were esteemed beyond their merits by his +generation, and his reputation now rests almost solely on the caustic +humour of his "Autobiography of Mansie Wauch," published in 1828, a series +of sketches of the manner of life in the shop-keeping and small-trading +class of a Scottish provincial town at the beginning of the nineteenth +century. Moir died at Dumfries on July 6, 1851. </blockquote> + + +<h4><i>I.--Mansie's Forebears and Early Life</i></h4> + + +<p>Some of the rich houses and great folk pretend to have histories of the +ancientness of their families, which they can count back on their fingers +almost to the days of Noah's Ark, and King Fergus the First, but it is not +in my power to come further back than auld grand-faither, who died when I +was a growing callant. I mind him full well. To look at him was just as if +one of the ancient patriarchs had been left on the earth, to let succeeding +survivors witness a picture of hoary and venerable eld.</p> + +<p>My own father, auld Mansie Wauch, was, at the age of thirteen, bound a +'prentice to the weaver trade, which he prosecuted till a mortal fever cut +through the thread of his existence. Alas, as Job says, "How time flies +like a weaver's shuttle!" He was a decent, industrious, hard-working man, +doing everything for the good of his family, and winning the respect of all +who knew the value of his worth. On the five-and-twentieth year of his age +he fell in love with, and married, my mother, Marion Laverock.</p> + +<p>I have no distinct recollection of the thing myself, but there is every +reason to believe that I was born on October 13, 1765, in a little house in +the Flesh-Market Gate, Dalkeith, and the first thing I have any clear +memory of was being carried on my auntie's shoulders to see the Fair Race. +Oh! but it was a grand sight! I have read since the story of Aladdin's +Wonderful Lamp, but that fair and the race, which was won by a young birkie +who had neither hat nor shoon, riding a philandering beast of a horse +thirteen or fourteen years auld, beat it all to sticks.</p> + +<p>In time, I was sent to school, where I learned to read and spell, making +great progress in the Single and Mother's Carritch. What is more, few could +fickle me in the Bible, being mostly able to spell it all over, save the +second of Ezra and the seventh of Nehemiah, which the Dominie himself could +never read through twice in the same way, or without variation.</p> + +<p>Being of a delicate make--nature never intended me for the naval or +military line, or for any robustious profession--I was apprenticed to the +tailoring trade. Just afterwards I had a terrible stound of calf-love, my +first flame being the minister's lassie, Jess, a buxom and forward queen, +two or three years older than myself. I used to sit looking at her in the +kirk, and felt a droll confusion when our eyes met. It dirled through my +heart like a dart. Fain would I have spoken to her, but aye my courage +failed me, though whiles she gave me a smile when she passed. She used to +go to the well every night with her two stoups to draw water, so I thought +of watching to give her two apples which I had carried in my pocket for +more than a week for that purpose. How she started when I stappit them into +her hand, and brushed by without speaking!</p> + +<p>Jamie Coom, the blacksmith, who I aye jealoused was my rival, came up +and asked Jess, with a loud guffaw, "Where is the tailor?" When I heard +that, I took to my heels till I found myself on the little stool by the +fireside with the hamely sound of my mother's wheel bum-bumming in my lug, +like a gentle lullaby.</p> + +<p>The days of the years of my 'prenticeship having glided cannily over, I +girt myself round about with a proud determination of at once cutting my +mother's apron-string. So I set out for Edinburgh in search of a +journeyman's place, which I got the very first day in the Grassmarket. My +lodging was up six pairs of stairs, in a room which I rented for +half-a-crown a week, coals included; but my heart was sea-sick of Edinburgh +folk and town manners, for which I had no stomach. I could form no friendly +acquaintanceship with a living soul. Syne I abode by myself, like St. John +in the Isle of Patmos, on spare allowance, making a sheep-head serve me for +three days' kitchen.</p> + +<p>Everything around me seemed to smell of sin and pollution, and often did +I commune with my own heart, that I would rather be a sober, poor, honest +man in the country, able to clear my day and way by the help of Providence, +than the provost himself, my lord though he be, or even the mayor of +London, with his velvet gown trailing for yards in the glaur behind him, or +riding about the streets in a coach made of clear crystal and wheels of +beaten gold.</p> + +<p>But when my heart was sickening unto death, I fell in with the greatest +blessing of my life, Nanse Cromie, a bit wench of a lassie frae the Lauder +direction, who had come to be a servant in the flat below our workshop, and +whom I often met on the stairs.</p> + +<p>If ever a man loved, and loved like mad, it was me; and I take no shame +in the confession. Let them laugh who like; honest folk, I pity them; such +know not the pleasures of virtuous affection. Matters were by and bye +settled full tosh between us; and though the means of both parties were +small, we were young, and able and willing to help one another. Nanse and +me laid our heads together towards the taking a bit house in the +fore-street of Dalkeith, and at our leisure bought the plenishing.</p> + +<p>Two or three days after Maister Wiggie, the minister, had gone through +the ceremony of tying us together, my sign was nailed up, painted in black +letters on a blue ground, with a picture of a jacket on one side and a pair +of shears on the other; and I hung up a wheen ready-made waistcoats, caps, +and Kilmarnock cowls in the window. Business in fact, flowed in upon us in +a perfect torrent.</p> + +<p>Both Nanse and I found ourselves so proud of our new situation that we +slipped out in the dark and had a prime look with a lantern at the sign, +which was the prettiest ye ever saw, although some sandblind creatures had +taken the neatly painted jacket for a goose.</p> + + +<h4><i>II.--The Resurrection Men</i></h4> + + +<p>A year or two after the birth and christening of wee Benjie, my son, I +was cheated by a swindling black-aviced Englishman out of some weeks' +lodgings and keep, and a pair of new velveteen knee-breeches.</p> + +<p>Then there arose a great surmise that some loons were playing false with +the kirkyard; and, on investigation, it was found that four graves had been +opened, and the bodies harled away to the college. Words cannot describe +the fear, the dool, and the misery it caused, and the righteous indignation +that burst through the parish.</p> + +<p>But what remead? It was to watch in the session-house with loaded guns, +night about, three at a time. It was in November when my turn came. I never +liked to go into the kirkyard after darkening, let-a-be sit through a long +winter night with none but the dead around us. I felt a kind of qualm of +faintness and downsinking about my heart and stomach, to the dispelling of +which I took a thimbleful of spirits, and, tying my red comforter about my +neck, I marched briskly to the session-house.</p> + +<p>Andrew Goldie, the pensioner, lent me his piece and loaded it to me. Not +being well acquaint with guns, I kept the muzzle aye away from me, as it is +every man's duty not to throw his precious life into jeopardy. A bench was +set before the sessions-house fire, which bleezed brightly. My spirits +rose, and I wondered, in my bravery, that a man like me should be afraid of +anything. Nobody was there but a towzy, carroty-haired callant.</p> + +<p>The night was now pitmirk. The wind soughed amid the headstones and +railings of the gentry (for we must all die), and the black corbies in the +steeple-holes cackled and crawed in a fearsome manner. Oh, but it was +lonesome and dreary; and in about an hour the laddie wanted to rin awa +hame; but, trying to look brave, though half-frightened out of my seven +senses, I said, "Sit down, sit down; I've baith whiskey and porter wi' me. +Hae, man, there's a cawker to keep your heart warm; and set down that +bottle of Deacon Jaffrey's best brown stout to get a toast."</p> + +<p>The wind blew like a hurricane; the rain began to fall in perfect +spouts. Just in the heart of the brattle the grating of the yett turning on +its rusty hinges was but too plainly heard.</p> + +<p>"The're coming; cock the piece, ye sumph!" cried the laddie, while his +red hair rose, from his pow like feathers. "I hear them tramping on the +gravel," and he turned the key in the lock and brizzed his back against the +door like mad, shouting out, "For the Lord's sake, prime the gun, or our +throats will be cut before you can cry Jack Robinson."</p> + +<p>I did the best I could, but the gun waggled to and fro like a cock's +tail on a rainy day. I trust I was resigned to die, but od' it was a +frightful thing to be out of one's bed to be murdered in an old +session-house at the dead hour of the night by devils incarnate of +ressurrection men with blacked faces, pistols, big sticks, and other deadly +weapons.</p> + +<p>After all, it was only Isaac, the bethrel, who, when we let him in, said +that he had just keppit four ressurrectioners louping over the wall. But +that was a joke. I gave Isaac a dram to kep his heart up, and he sung and +leuch as if he had been boozing with some of his drucken cronies; for feint +a hair cared he about auld kirkyards, or vouts, or dead folk in their +winding-sheets, with the wet grass growing over them. Then, although I +tried to stop him, he began to tell stories of Eirish ressurrectioners, and +ghaists, seen in the kirkyard at midnight.</p> + +<p>Suddenly a clap like thunder was heard, and the laddie, who had fallen +asleep on the bench, jumped up and roared "Help!" "Murder!" "Thieves!" +while Isaac bellowed out, "I'm dead! I'm killed!--shot through the head! +Oh, oh, oh!" Surely, I had fainted away, for, when I came to myself, I +found my red comforter loosed, my face all wet, Isaac rubbing down his +waistcoat with his sleeve--the laddie swigging ale out of a bicker--and the +brisk brown stout, which, by casting its cork, had caused all the alarm, +whizz-whizz, whizzing in the chimney lug.</p> + + +<h4><i>III.--The Friends of the People</i></h4> + + +<p>The sough of war and invasion flew over the land at this time, like a +great whirlwind; and the hearts of men died within their persons with fear +and trembling. Abroad the heads of crowned kings were cut off, and great +dukes and lords were thrown into dark dungeons, or obligated to flee for +their lives to foreign countries.</p> + +<p>But worst of all the trouble seemed a smittal one, and even our own land +began to show symptoms of the plague spot. Agents of the Spirit of +Darkness, calling themselves the Friends of the People, held secret +meetings, and hatched plots to blow up our blessed king and constitution. +Yet the business, though fearsome in the main, was in some parts almost +laughable. Everything was to be divided, and everyone made alike. Houses +and lands were to be distributed by lots, and the mighty man and the +beggar--the old man and the hobble-de-hoy--the industrious man and the +spendthrift, the maimed, the cripple, and the blind, the clever man of +business, and the haveril simpleton, made all just brethern, and alike. +Save us! but to think of such nonsense! At one of their meetings, held at +the sign of the Tappet Hen and the Tankard, there was a prime fight of five +rounds between Tammy Bowsie, the snab, and auld Thrashem, the dominie, +about their drawing cuts which was to get Dalkeith Palace, and which +Newbottle Abbey! Oh, sic riff-raff!</p> + +<p>It was a brave notion of the king to put the loyalty of the land to the +test, that the daft folk might be dismayed, and that the clanjamphrey might +be tumbled down before their betters, like the windle-straes in a +hurricane. And so they were. Such crowds came forward when the names of the +volunteers were taken down. I will never forget the first day that I got my +regimentals on, and when I looked myself in the glass, just to think I was +a sodger who never in my life could thole the smell of powder! Oh, but it +was grand! I sometimes fancied myself a general, and giving the word of +command. Big Sam, who was a sergeant in the fencibles, and enough to have +put five Frenchmen to flight any day of the year, whiles came to train us; +but as nature never intended me for the soldiering trade, I never got out +of the awkward squad, though I had two or three neighbours to keep me in +countenance.</p> + +<p>We all cracked very crouse about fighting; but one dark night we got a +fleg in sober earnest. Jow went the town bell, and row-de-dow gaed the +drums, and all in a minute was confusion and uproar in ilka street. I was +seized with a severe shaking of the knees and a flapping at the heart, +when, through the garret window, I saw the signal posts were in a bleeze, +and that the French had landed. This was in reality to be a soldier! I +never got such a fright since the day I was cleckit. There was such a noise +and hullabaloo in the streets, as if the Day of Judgment had come to find +us all unprepared.</p> + +<p>Notwithstanding, we behaved ourselves like true-blue Scotsmen, called +forth to fight the battles of our country, and if the French had come, as +they did not come, they would have found that to their cost, as sure as my +name is Mansie. However, it turned out that it was a false alarm, and that +the thief Buonaparte had not landed at Dunbar, as it was jealoused; so, +after standing under arms for half the night, we were sent home to our +beds.</p> + +<p>But next day we were taken out to be taught the art of firing. We went +through our motions bravely--to load, ram down the cartridge, made ready, +present, fire. But so flustered and confused was I that I never had mind to +pull the tricker, though I rammed down a fresh cartridge at the word of +command. At the end of the firing the sergeant of the company ordered all +that had loaded pieces to come to the front, and six of us stepped out in a +little line in face of the regiment. Our pieces were cocked, and at the +word "Fire!" off they went. It was an act of desperation on my part to draw +the tricker, and I had hardly well shut my blinkers when I got such a thump +on the shoulder as knocked me backwards, head over heels, on the grass. +When I came to my senses and found myself not killed outright, and my gun +two or three ells away, I began to rise up. Then I saw one of the men going +forward to lift the fatal piece, but my care for the safety of others +overcame the sense of my own peril. "Let alane, let alane!" cried I to him, +"and take care of yoursell, for it has to gang off five times yet." I +thought in my innocence that we should hear as many reports as I had +crammed cartridges down her muzzle. This was a sore joke against me for a +length of time; but I tholed it patiently, considering cannily within +myself, that even Johnny Cope himself had not learned the art of war in a +single morning.</p> + + +<h4><i>IV.--My First and Last Play</i></h4> + + +<p>Maister Glen, a farmer from the howes of the Lammermoor, Hills, a +far-awa cousin of our neighbour Widow Grassie, came to Dalkeith to buy a +horse at our fair. He put up free of expense at the widow's, who asked me +to join him and her at a bit warm dinner, as may be, being a stranger, he +would not like to use the freedom of drinking by himself--a custom which is +at the best an unsocial one--especially with none but women-folk near +him.</p> + +<p>When we got our joy filled for the second time, and began to be better +acquainted, we became merry, and cracked away just like two pen-guns. I +asked him, ye see, about sheep and cows, and ploughing and thrashing, and +horses and carts, and fallow land and lambing-time, and such like; and he, +in his turn, made inquiries regarding broad and narrow cloth, Shetland +hose, and mittens, thread, and patent shears, measuring, and all other +particulars belonging to our trade, which he said, at long and last, after +we had joked together, was a power better one than the farming line; and he +promised to bind his auldest callant 'prentice to me to the tailoring +trade.</p> + +<p>On the head of this auld Glen and I had another jug, three being cannie, +after which we were both a wee tozymozy. Mistress Grassie saw plainly that +we were getting into a state where we could not easily make a halt, and +brought in the tea-things and told us that a company of strolling players +had come to the town and were to give an exhibition in Laird Wheatley's +barn. Many a time I had heard of play-acting, and I determined to run the +risk of Maister Wiggie, our minister's rebuke, for the transgression. Auld +Glen, being as full of nonsense and as fain to gratify his curiosity as +myself, volunteered to pay the ransom of a shilling for admission, so we +went to the barn, which had been browley set out for the occasion by Johnny +Hammer, the joiner.</p> + +<p>The place was choke-full, just to excess, and when the curtain was +hauled up in came a decent old gentleman in great distress, and implored +all the powers of heaven and earth to help him find his runaway daughter +that had decamped with some ne'er-do-weel loon of a half-pay captain. Out +he went stumping on the other side, determined, he said, to find them, +though he should follow them to Johnny Groat's house, or something to that +effect. Hardly was his back turned than in came the birkie and the very +young lady the old gentleman described, arm-and-arm together, laughing like +daft Dog on it! It was a shameless piece of business. As true as death, +before all the crowd of folk, he put his arm round her waist and called her +his sweetheart, and love, and dearie, and darling, and everything that is +fine.</p> + +<p>In the middle of their goings on, the sound of a coming foot was heard, +and the lassie, taking guilt to her, cried out, "Hide me, hide me, for the +sake of goodness, for yonder comes my old father!" No sooner said than +done. In he stappit her into a closit, and, after shutting the door on her, +he sat down upon a chair, pretending to be asleep in the twinkling of a +walking-stick. The old father came bounsing in, shook him up, and gripping +him by the cuff of the neck, aske him, in a fierce tone, what he had made +of his daughter. Never since I was born did I ever see such brazen-faced +impudence! The rascal had the face to say at once that he had not seen the +lassie for a month. As a man, as a father, as an elder of our kirk, my +corruption was raised, for I aye hated lying as a poor cowardly sin, so I +called out, "Dinna believe him, auld gentleman; he's telling a parcel of +lees. Never saw her for a month! Just open that press-door, and ye'll see +whether I am speaking truth or not!" The old man stared and looked +dumfounded; and the young one, instead of running forward with his double +nieves to strike me, began a-laughing, as if I had done him a good +turn.</p> + +<p>But never since I had a being did I ever witness such an uproar and +noise as immediately took place. The whole house was so glad that the +scoundrel had been exposed that they set up siccan a roar of laughter, and +thumped away at siccan a rate with their feet that down fell the place they +called the gallery, all the folk in't being hurl'd topsy-turvy among the +sawdust on the floor below.</p> + +<p>Then followed cries of "Murder," "Hold off me," "My ribs are in," "I'm +killed," "I'm speechless." There was a rush to the door, the lights were +knocked out, and such tearing, swearing, tumbling, and squealing was never +witnessed in the memory of man since the building of Babel. I was carried +off my feet, my wind was fairly gone, and a sick qualm came over me, which +entirely deprived me of my senses. On opening my eyes in the dark, I found +myself leaning with my broadside against the wall on the opposite side of +the close, with the tail of my Sunday coat docked by the hainch buttons. So +much for plays and play-actors--the first and the last I trust in grace +that I shall ever see.</p> + +<p>Next morning I had to take my breakfast in bed, a thing very uncommon to +me, except on Sunday mornings whiles, when each one according to the +bidding of the Fourth Commandment, has a licence to do as he likes. Having +a desperate sore head, our wife, poor body, put a thimbleful of brandy into +my first cup of tea which had a wonderful virtue in putting all things to +rights.</p> + +<p>In the afternoon Thomas Burlings, the ruling elder in the kirk, popped +into the shop, and, in our two-handed crack, after asking me in a dry, +curious way if I had come by no skaith in the business of the play, he said +the thing had now spread far and wide, and was making a great noise in the +world. I thought the body a wee sharp in his observe, so I pretended to +take it quite lightly. Then he began to tell me a wheen stories, each one +having to do with drinking.</p> + +<p>"It's a wearyfu' thing that whisky," said Thomas. "I wish it could be +banished to Botany Bay."</p> + +<p>"It is that," said I. "Muckle and nae little sin does it breed and +produce in this world."</p> + +<p>"I'm glad," quoth Thomas, stroking down his chin in a slee way, "I'm +glad the guilty should see the folly o' their ain ways; it's the first +step, ye ken, till amendment. And indeed I tell't Maister Wiggie, when he +sent me here, that I could almost become guid for your being mair wary of +your conduct for the future time to come."</p> + +<p>This was a thunder-clap to me, but I said briskly, "So ye're after some +session business in this visit, are ye?"</p> + +<p>"Ye've just guessed it," answered Thomas, sleeking down his front hair +with his fingers in a sober way. "We had a meeting this forenoon, and it +was resolved ye should stand a public rebuke in the meeting house next +Sunday."</p> + +<p>"Hang me if I do!" answered I. "Not for all the ministers and elders +that were ever cleckit. I was born a free man, I live in a free country, I +am the subject of a free king and constitution, and I'll be shot before I +submit to such rank diabolical papistry."</p> + +<p>"Hooly and fairly, Mansie," quoth Thomas. "They'll maybe no be sae hard +as they threaten. But ye ken, my friend, I'm speaking to you as a brither; +it was an unco'-like business for an elder, not only to gang till a play, +which is ane of the deevil's rendevouses, but to gan there in a state of +liquor, making yourself a world's wonder, and you an elder of our kirk! I +put the question to yourself soberly."</p> + +<p>His threatening I could despise; but ah, his calm, brotherly, flattering +way I could not thole with. So I said till him, "Weel, weel, Thomas, I ken +I have done wrong, and I am sorry for't; they'll never find me in siccan a +scrape again."</p> + +<p>Thomas Burlings, in a friendly way, shook hands with me; telling that he +would go back and plead with the session in my behalf. To do him justice he +was not worse than his word, for I have aye attended the kirk as usual, +standing, when it came to my rotation, at the plate, and nobody, gentle or +simple, ever spoke to me on the subject of the playhouse, or minted the +matter of the rebuke from that day to this.</p> + + +<h4><i>V.--Benjie a Barber</i></h4> + + +<p>When wee Benjie came to his thirteenth year, many and long were the +debates between his fond mother and me what trade we would bring him up to. +His mother thought that he had just the physog of an admiral, and when the +matter was put to himsell, Benjie said quite briskly he would like to be a +gentleman. At which I broke through my rule never to lift my fist to the +bairn, and gave him such a yerk in the cheek with the loof of my hand, as +made, I am sure, his lugs ring, and sent him dozing to the door like a +peerie.</p> + +<p>We discussed, among other trades and professions, a lawyer's advocatt, a +preaching minister, a doctor, a sweep, a rowley-powley man, a +penny-pie-man, a man-cook, that easiest of all lives, a gentleman's +gentleman; but in the end Nanse, when I suggested a barber, gave a mournful +look and said in a state of Christian resignation, "Tak' your ain way, +gudeman."</p> + +<p>And so Benjie was apprenticed to be a barber, for, as I made the +observe, "Commend me to a safe employment, and a profitable. They may give +others the nick, and draw blood, but catch them hurting themselves. The +foundations of the hair-cutting and the shaving line are as sure as that of +the everlasting rocks; beards being likely to roughen, and heads to require +polling as long as wood grows and water runs."</p> + +<p>Benjie is now principal shop-man in a Wallflower Hair-Powder and Genuine +Macassar Oil Warehouse, kept by three Frenchmen, called Moosies Peroukey, +in the West End of London. But, though our natural enemies, he writes me +that he has found them agreeable and shatty masters, full of good manners +and pleasant discourse, and, except in their language, almost +Christians.</p> + +<p>I aye thought Benjie was a genius, and he is beginning to show himself +his father's son, being in thoughts of taking out a patent for making a +hair-oil from rancid butter. If he succeeds it will make the callant's +fortune. But he must not marry Madamoselle Peroukey without my special +consent, as Nance says that her having a French woman for a daughter-in-law +would be the death of her.</p> + +<p>As for myself, I have now retired from business with my guid wife Nanse +to our ain cottage at Lugton, with a large garden and henhouse attached, +there to spend the evening of our days. I have enjoyed a pleasant run of +good health through life, reading my Bible more in hope than fear; our +salvation, and not our destruction, being, I should suppose, its purpose. +And I trust that the overflowing of a grateful heart will not be reckoned +against me for unrighteousness.</p> + +<hr /> + + + + +<h2><a name="JAMES_MORIER"></a>JAMES MORIER</h2> + + +<h3><a name="The_Adventures_of_Hajji_Baba_of_Ispahan"></a>The Adventures of +Hajji Baba of Ispahan</h3> + + +<blockquote> "Hajji Baba" stands by itself among the innumerable books +written of the East by Europeans. For these inimitable concessions of a +Persian rogue are intended to give a picture of Oriental life as seen by +Oriental and not by Western eyes---to present the country and people of +Persia from a strictly Persian standpoint. This daring attempt to look at +the East from the inside, as it were, is acknowledged to be successful; all +Europeans familiar with Persia testify to the truth, often very caustic +truth, of James Morier's portraiture. The author of "The Adventures of +Hajji Baba of Ispahan" was born about 1780, and spent most of his days as a +diplomatic representative of Great Britain in the East. He first visited +Persia in 1808-09, as private secretary to the mission mentioned in the +closing pages of "Hajji Baba." He returned to Persia in 1811-12, and again +in 1814, and wrote two books about the country. But the thoroughness and +candour of his intimacy with the Persian character were not fully revealed +until the publication of "Hajji Baba" in 1824. So popular was the work that +Morier wrote an amusing sequel to it entitled "Hajji Baba in England." He +died on March 23, 1849. </blockquote> + + +<h4><i>I.--The Turcomans</i></h4> + + +<p>My father, Kerbelai Hassan, was one of the most celebrated barbers of +Ispahan. I was the son of his second wife, and as I was born when my father +and mother were on a pilgrimage to the tomb of Hosein, in Kerbelah, I was +called Hajji, or the pilgrim, a name which has procured for me a great deal +of unmerited respect, because that honoured title is seldom conferred on +any but those who have made the great pilgrimage to the tomb of the blessed +Prophet of Mecca.</p> + +<p>I was taught to read and write by a mollah, or priest, who kept a school +in a mosque near at hand; when not in school I attended the shop, and by +the time I was sixteen it would be difficult to say whether I was most +accomplished as a barber or a scholar. My father's shop, being situated +near the largest caravanserai in the city, was the common resort of the +foreign merchants; and one of them, Osman Aga, of Bagdad, took a great +fancy to me, and so excited me by describing the different cities he had +visited, that I soon felt a strong desire to travel. He was then in want of +someone to keep his accounts, and as I associated the two qualifications of +barber and scribe, he made me such advantageous offers that I agreed to +follow him.</p> + +<p>His purpose was to journey to Meshed with the object of purchasing the +lambskins of Bokhara. Our caravan proceeded without impediment to Tehran; +but the dangerous part of the journey was yet to come, as a tribe of +Turcomans were known to infest the road.</p> + +<p>We advanced by slow marches over a parched and dreary country, and our +conversation chiefly turned upon the Turcomans. Everyone vaunted his own +courage; my master above the rest, his teeth actually chattering with +apprehension, boasted of what he would do in case we were attacked. But +when we in reality perceived a body of Turcomans coming down upon us, the +scene instantly changed. Some ran away; others, and among them my master, +yielded to intense fear, and began to exclaim: "O Allah! O Imams! O +Mohammed the Prophet, we are gone! We are dying! We are dead!" A shower of +arrows, which the enemy discharged as they came in, achieved their +conquest, and we soon became their prey. The Turcomans having completed +their plunder, placed each of us behind a horseman, and we passed through +wild tracts of mountainous country to a large plain, covered with the black +tents and the flocks and herds of our enemies.</p> + +<p>My master was set to tend camels in the hills; but when the Turcomans +discovered my abilities as a barber and a surgeon, I became a general +favourite, and gained the confidence of the chief of the tribe himself. +Finally, he determined to permit me to accompany him on a predatory +excursion into Persia--a permission which I hoped would lead to my +escaping. I was the more ready to do so, in that I secretly possessed fifty +ducats. These had been concealed by my master, Osman Aga, in his turban at +the outset of his journey. The turban had been taken from him and carried +to the women's quarters, whence I had recovered it. I had some argument +with myself as to whether I ought to restore the ducats to him; but I +persuaded myself that the money was now mine rather than his. "Had it not +been for me," I said, "the money was lost for ever; who, therefore, has a +better claim to it than myself?"</p> + +<p>We carried off much property on the raid, but as our only prisoners were +a court poet, a carpet-spreader, and a penniless cadi, we had little to +hope for in the way of ransom. On our return journey we perceived a large +body of men, too compact for a caravan--plainly some great personage and +his escort. The Turcomans retired hastily, but I lagged behind, seeing in +this eventuality a means of escape. I was soon overtaken and seized, +plundered of my fifty ducats and everything else, and dragged before the +chief personage of the party--a son of the Shah, on his way to become +governor of Khorassan.</p> + +<p>Kissing the ground before him, I related my story, and petitioned for +the return of my fifty ducats. The rogues who had taken the money were +brought before the prince, who ordered them to be bastinadoed until they +produced it. After a few blows they confessed, and gave up the ducats, +which were carried to the prince. He counted the money, put it under the +cushion on which he was reclining, and said loudly to me, "You are +dismissed."</p> + +<p>"My money, where is it?" I exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"Give him the shoe," said the prince to his master of the ceremonies, +who struck me over the mouth with the iron-shod heel of his slipper, +saying: "Go in peace, or you'll have your ears cut off."</p> + +<p>"You might as well expect a mule to give up a mouthful of fresh grass," +said an old muleteer to whom I told my misfortune, "as a prince to give up +money that has once been in his hands."</p> + +<p>Reaching Meshed in a destitute state, I practised for a time the trade +of water-carrier, and then became an itinerant vendor of smoke. I was not +very scrupulous about giving my tobacco pure; and when one day the +<i>Mohtesib</i>, or inspector, came to me, disguised as an old woman, I +gave him one of my worst mixtures. Instantly he summoned half a dozen stout +fellows; my feet were noosed, and blow after blow was inflicted on them +until they were a misshapen mass of flesh and gore. All that I possessed +was taken from me, and I crawled home miserably on my hands and knees.</p> + +<p>I felt I had entered Meshed in an unlucky hour, and determined to leave +it. Dressed as a dervish I joined a caravan for Tehran.</p> + + +<h4><i>II.--The Fate of the Lovely</i></h4> + + +<p>I at first resolved to follow the career of a dervish, tempted thereto +by the confidences of my companion, Dervish Sefer, who befriended me after +my unhappy encounter with the Mohtesib.</p> + +<p>"With one-fiftieth of your accomplishments, and a common share of +effrontery," he told me, "you may command both the purses and the lives of +your hearers. By impudence I have been a prophet, by impudence I have +wrought miracles--by impudence, in short, I live a life of great ease."</p> + +<p>But a chance came to me of stealing a horse, the owner of which +confessed he had himself stolen it; and by selling it I hoped to add to the +money I had obtained as a dervish, and thereby get into some situation +where I might gain my bread honestly. Unfortunately, when I had reached +Tehran, the real owner of the horse appeared. I was compelled to refund to +the dealer the money I had been paid for the horse, and had some +difficulty, when we went before the magistrate at the bazaar, in proving +that I was not a thief. I had heard that the court poet, with whom I had +formed a friendship during his captivity among the Turcomans, had escaped +and returned to Tehran. To him, therefore, I repaired, and through his good +offices I secured a post as assistant to Mirza Ahmak, the king's chief +physician.</p> + +<p>Although the physician was willing to have my services, he was too +avaricious to pay me anything for them; and I would not have remained long +with him had I not fallen in love. In the heat of summer I made any bed in +the open air, in a corner of a terrace that overlooked an inner court where +the women's apartments were situated. I came presently to exchanging +glances with a beautiful Curdish slave. From glances we came to +conversation. At length, when Zeenab--for that was her name--was alone in +the women's apartments, she would invite me down from the terrace, and we +would spend long hours feasting and singing together.</p> + +<p>But our felicity was destined to be interrupted. The Shah was about to +depart for his usual summer campaign, and, according to his wont, paid a +round of visits to noblemen, thereby reaping for himself a harvest of +presents. The physician, being reputed rich, was marked out as prey fit for +the royal grasp. The news of the honour to be paid him left him half-elated +at the distinction, half-trembling at the ruin that awaited his finances. +The Shah came with his full suite, dined gorgeously at my master's expense, +and, as is customary, visited the women's apartments. Presently came the +news that my master had presented the Shah with Zeenab! She was to be +trained as a dancing-girl, and was to dance before the Shah on his return +from the campaign.</p> + +<p>When Zeenab was thus removed out of my reach, I had no inducement to +remain in the physician's service. I therefore sought and secured a post as +<i>nasakchi</i>, or officer of the chief executioner. I was now a person of +authority with the crowd, and used my stick so freely upon their heads and +backs that I soon acquired a reputation for courage. Nor did I fail to note +the advice given to me by my brother officers as to the making of money by +extortion--how an officer inflicts the bastinado fiercely or gently +according to the capacity of the sufferer to pay; how bribes may be +obtained from villages anxious not to have troops quartered upon them, and +so on. I lived in such an atmosphere of violence and cruelty--I heard of +nothing but slitting noses, putting out eyes, and chopping men in two--that +I am persuaded I could almost have impaled my own father.</p> + +<p>The chief executioner was a tall and bony man, extremely ferocious. +"Give me good hard fighting," he was accustomed to declare; "let me have my +thrust with the lance, and my cut with the sabre, and I want no more. We +all have our weaknesses--these are mine." This terrible man accompanied the +Shah in his campaign, and I and the others went along with him, in the army +that was to expel the Muscovite infidels from Georgia. Having heard that +the Muscovites were posted on the Pembaki river, the chief executioner, +with a large body of cavalry and infantry, proceeded to advance upon +them.</p> + +<p>On reaching the river, we found two Muscovite soldiers on the opposite +bank. The chief put on a face of the greatest resolution. "Go, seize, +strike, kill!" he exclaimed. "Bring me their heads!"</p> + +<p>Several men dashed into the river, but the Russians, firing steadily, +killed two of them, whereupon the rest retreated; nor could all the chief's +oaths, entreaties, and offers of money persuade anybody to go forward.</p> + +<p>While we were thus parleying, a shot hit the chief executioner's +stirrup, which awoke his fears to such a degree that he recalled his +troops, and himself rode hastily away, exclaiming, "Curses be on their +beards! Whoever fought after this fashion? Killing, killing, as if we were +so many hogs! They will not run away, do all you can to them. They are +worse than brutes! O Allah, Allah, if there was no dying in the case, how +the Persians would fight!"</p> + +<p>On our return to the camp, a proclamation was issued announcing that an +army of 50,000 infidels had been vanquished by the all-victorious armies of +the Shah, that 10,000 of the dogs had given up their souls, and that the +prisoners were so many that the prices of slaves had diminished a hundred +per cent.</p> + +<p>When we went back with the Shah to Tehran, a horrid event occurred which +plunged me in the greatest misery. I heard that Zeenab was ill, and unable +to dance before the Shah; and, knowing the royal methods of treating +unsatisfactory slaves, I feared greatly for the consequences. My fears were +warranted. I was ordered, with others, to wait below the tower of the royal +harem at midnight and bear away a corpse. We saw a woman struggling with +two men at the top of the tower. The woman was flung over. We rushed +forward. At my feet, in the death-agony, lay my beloved Zeenab. I hung over +her in the deepest despair; my feelings could not be concealed from the +ruffians around me.</p> + +<p>I abandoned everything, and left Tehran next day determined to become a +real dervish, and spend the rest of my life in penitence and +privations.</p> + + +<h4><i>III.--Among the Holy Men</i></h4> + + +<p>As I was preparing next night to sleep on the bare ground outside a +caravanserai--for I was almost destitute--I saw a horseman ride up whom I +recognised. It was one of the nasakchis who had assisted in the burial of +Zeenab. I had been betrayed, then; my love for the king's slave had been +revealed, and they were pursuing me.</p> + +<p>I went into the caravanserai, sought out a friend--the dervish whom I +had known at Meshed--and asked his advice. "I can expect no mercy from this +man," I said, "particularly as I have not enough money to offer him, for I +know his price. Where shall I go?"</p> + +<p>The dervish replied, "You must lose not a moment in getting within the +sanctuary of the tomb of Fatimeh at Kom. You can reach it before morning, +and then you will be safe even from the Shah's power."</p> + +<p>"But how shall I live when I am there?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"I shall soon overtake you, and then, Inshallah (please God), you will +not fare so ill as you imagine."</p> + +<p>As the day broke, I could distinguish the gilt cupola of the tomb before +me; and as I perceived the horseman at some distance behind, I made all +possible speed until I had passed the gateway of the sanctuary. Kissing the +threshold of the tomb, I said my prayers with all the fervency of one who +has got safe from a tempest into port.</p> + +<p>My friend the dervish arrived soon afterwards, and immediately urged +upon me the importance of saying my prayers, keeping fasts, and wearing a +long and mortified countenance. As he assured me that unless I made a +pretence of deep piety I should be starved or stoned to death, I assumed +forthwith the character of a rigid Mussulman. I rose at the first call, +made my ablutions at the cistern in the strictest forms, and then prayed in +the most conspicuous spot I could find.</p> + +<p>By the intensity of my devotion I won the goodwill of Mirza Abdul +Cossim, the first <i>mashtehed</i> (divine) of Persia, and by his influence +I obtained a pardon from the Shah. Now that I was free from the sanctuary, +I became anxious to gain some profit by my fame for piety; so I applied to +Mirza Abdul Cossim, who straightway sent me to assist the mollah +Nadân, one of the principal men of the law in Tehran. My true path of +advancement, I believed, was now open. I was on the way to become a +mollah.</p> + +<p>Nadân was an exemplary Mussulman in all outward matters; but I was +not long in discovering that he had two ruling passions--jealousy of the +chief priest of Tehran, and a hunger for money. My earliest duty was to +gratify his second passion by negotiating temporary marriages for handsome +fees. In these transactions we prospered fairly well; but unfortunately +Nadân's desire to supplant the chief priest led him to stir up the +populace to attack the Christians of the city, and plunder their property. +The Shah was then in a humour to protect the Christians; consequently, +Nadân had his beard plucked out by the roots, was mounted on an ass +with his face to its tail, and was driven out of the city with blows and +execrations.</p> + +<p>Once more homeless and almost penniless, not knowing what to do, I +strolled in the dusk into a bath, and undressed. The bath was empty save +for one man, whom I recognized as the chief priest. He was splashing about +in a manner that struck me as remarkable for so sedate a character; then a +most unusual floundering, attended with a gurgling of the throat, struck my +ear. To my horror, I saw that he was drowned. Here was a predicament; it +was inevitable that I should be charged with his murder.</p> + +<p>Suddenly it occurred to me that I bore a close resemblance to the dead +man. For an hour or two, at any rate, I might act as an impostor. So, in +the dim light, I dressed myself in the chief priest's clothes, and repaired +to his house.</p> + +<p>I was there received by two young slaves, who paid me attentions that +would at most times have delighted me; but just then they filled me with +apprehension, and I was heartily glad when I got rid of the slaves and +fastened the door. I then explored the chief priest's pockets, and found +therein two letters. One was from the chief executioner--a notorious +drunkard--begging permission to take unlimited wine for his health's sake. +The other was from a priest at the mollah's village saying that he had +extracted from the peasantry one hundred tomauns (£80), which would +be delivered to a properly qualified messenger.</p> + +<p>To the chief executioner I wrote cheerfully granting the permission he +sought, and suggesting that the loan of a well-caparisoned horse would not +be amiss. I wrote a note to the priest requesting that the money be +delivered to the bearer, our confidential Hajji Baba. Next morning I rose +early, and made certain alterations in the chief priest's clothes so as to +avoid detection. I went to the chief executioner's house, presented the +letter, and received the horse, upon which I rode hastily away to the +village. Having obtained the hundred tomauns I escaped across the frontier +to Bagdad.</p> + + +<h4><i>IV.--Hajji and the Infidels</i></h4> + + +<p>On reaching Bagdad, I sought the house of my old master, Osman Aga, long +since returned from his captivity, and through his assistance, and with my +hundred tomauns as capital, I was able to set up in business as a merchant +in pipe-sticks, and, having made myself as like as possible to a native of +Bagdad, I travelled in Osman Aga's company to Constantinople. Having a +complaint to make, I went to Mirza Ferouz, Persian ambassador on a special +mission to Constantinople.</p> + +<p>"Your wit and manner are agreeable," he said to me; "you have seen the +world and its business; you are a man who can make play under another's +beard. Such I am in want of."</p> + +<p>"I am your slave and your servant," I replied.</p> + +<p>"Lately an ambassador came from Europe to Tehran," said Mirza Ferouz, +"saying he was sent, with power to make a treaty, by a certain Boonapoort, +calling himself Emperor of the French. He promised, that Georgia should be +reconquered for us from the Russians, and that the English should be driven +from India. Soon afterwards the English infidels in India sent agents to +impede the reception of the Frenchman. We soon discovered that much was to +be got between the rival curs of uncleanness; and the true object of my +mission here is to discover all that is to be known of these French and +English. In this you can help me."</p> + +<p>This proposal I gladly accepted, and went forth to interview a scribe of +the Reis Effendi with whom I had struck up a friendship. He told me that +Boonapoort was indeed a rare and daring infidel, who, from a mere soldier, +became the sultan of an immense nation, and gave the law to all the +Europeans.</p> + +<p>"And is there not a tribe of infidels called Ingliz?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes, truly. They live in an island, are powerful in ships, and in +watches and broad-cloth are unrivalled. They have a shah, but it is a farce +to call him by that title. The power lies with certain houses full of +madmen, who meet half the year round for the purposes of quarrelling. +Nothing can be settled in the state, be it only whether a rebellious aga is +to have his head cut off and his property confiscated, or some such trifle, +until these people have wrangled. Let us bless Allah and our Prophet that +we are not born to eat the miseries of the poor English infidels, but can +smoke our pipes in quiet on the shores of our own peaceful Bosphorus!"</p> + +<p>I returned to my ambassador full of the information I had acquired; +daily he sent me in search of fresh particulars, and before long I felt +able to draw up the history of Europe that the Shah had ordered Mirza +Ferouz to provide. So well pleased was the ambassador with my labours, that +he announced his intention of taking me back to Persia and continuing me in +Government employ. To this I readily agreed, knowing that, with the +protection of men in office, I might show myself in my own country with +perfect safety.</p> + +<p>On out return to Tehran we found an English ambassador negotiating a +treaty, the French having gone away unsuccessful. Owing to the knowledge I +had acquired of European affairs when at Constantinople, I was much +employed in these transactions with the infidels, and when I gained the +confidence of the grand vizier himself, destiny almost as much as whispered +that the buffetings of the world had taken their departure from me.</p> + +<p>The negotiations reached a difficult point, and threatened to break +down; neither the Persians nor the infidels would give way. I was sent by +the grand vizier on a delicate mission to the English ambassador. I +prevailed. I returned to the grand vizier with a sack of gold for him and +the promise of a diamond ring, and the treaty was signed.</p> + +<p>It was decided to send an ambassador to England. Mirza Berouz was +appointed, and I was chosen as his first mirza, or secretary. What pleased +me most of all was that I was sent to Ispahan to raise part of the money +for the presents to be taken to England. Hajji Baba, the barber's son, +entered his native place as Mirza Hajji Baba, the Shah's deputy, with all +the parade of a man of consequence, and on a mission that gave him +unbounded opportunity of enriching himself. I found myself, after all my +misfortunes, at the summit of what, in my Persian eyes, was perfect human +bliss.</p> + +<hr /> + + + + +<h2><a name="DAVID_CHRISTIE_MURRAY"></a>DAVID CHRISTIE MURRAY</h2> + + +<h3><a name="The_Way_of_the_World"></a>The Way of the World</h3> + + +<blockquote> David Christie Murray was born at West Bromwich, England, +April 13, 1847, and began his journalistic career at Birmingham. In 1873 he +moved to London and joined the staff of the "Daily News" and in 1878 he was +correspondent of the "Times" and the "Scotsman" in the Russo-Turkish war. +He now began to transfer his abundant experience of life to the pages of +fiction. His first novel, "A Life's Atonement," was published in 1880, and +was followed a year later by "Joseph's Coat." In "The Way of the World," +published in 1884, his art as a story-teller and his keen observation of +men and manners were displayed as strikingly as in any of his later +works--several of which were written in collaboration with other authors. +Altogether he produced over thirty volumes of short stories and novels +single-handed. At the end of last century he emerged from his literary +seclusion in Wales and became active in current affairs; he was one of the +leading English champions of Dreyfus, and obtained the warm friendship of +Emile Zola. He died on August 1, 1907. </blockquote> + + +<h4><i>I.--The Upstart</i></h4> + + +<p>Your sympathies are requested for Mr. Bolsover Kimberley, a gentleman +embarrassed beyond measure.</p> + +<p>Mr. Kimberley was thirty-five years of age. He was meek, and had no +features to speak of. His hair was unassuming, and his whiskers were too +shy to curl. He was a clerk in a solicitor's office in the town of +Gallowbay, and he seemed likely to live to the end of his days in the +pursuit of labours no more profitable or pretentious.</p> + +<p>A cat may look at a king. A solicitor's clerk may love an earl's +daughter. It was an undeniable madness in Kimberley even to dream of loving +the Lady Ella Santerre. He knew perfectly well what a fool he was; but he +was in love for all that.</p> + +<p>To Bolsover Kimberley, seated in a little room with a dingy red desk and +cobwebbed skylight, there entered Mr. Ragshaw, senior clerk to Messrs. +Begg, Batter, and Bagg, solicitors.</p> + +<p>"My dear Mr. Kimberley," said Mr. Ragshaw, "allow me the honour of +shaking hands with you. I believe that I am the first bearer of good +news."</p> + +<p>Mr. Kimberley turned pale.</p> + +<p>"My firm, sir," pursued Mr. Ragshaw, "represented the trustees of the +late owner of the Gallowbay Estate, who died three months ago at the age of +twenty, leaving no known relatives. We instituted a search, which resulted +in the discovery of an indisputable title to the estate. Permit me to +congratulate you, sir--the estate is yours."</p> + +<p>Bolsover Kimberley gasped, and his voice was harsh.</p> + +<p>"How much?"</p> + +<p>"The estate, sir, is now approximately valued at forty-seven thousand +per annum."</p> + +<p>Kimberley lurched forward, and fell over in a dead faint. Mr. Ragshaw's +attentions restored him to his senses, and he drank a little water, and +sobbed hysterically.</p> + +<p>When he had recovered a little, he arose weakly from the one office +chair, took off his office coat, rolled it up neatly, and put it in his +desk. Then he put on his walking coat and his hat and went out.</p> + +<p>"Don't you think, Mr. Kimberley," asked Mr. Ragshaw, with profound +respect, "that a little something----"</p> + +<p>They were outside the Windgall Arms, and Kimberley understood.</p> + +<p>"Why, yes, sir," he said; "but I never keep it in the 'ouse, and having +had to pay a tailor's bill this week, I don't happen----"</p> + +<p>"My <i>dear</i> sir, allow me!" said Ragshaw, with genuine emotion.</p> + +<p>The champagne, the dinner that followed, the interviews with pressmen, +the excitement and obsequiousness of everybody, conveyed to Kimberley's +mind, in a dizzy sort of a way, that he was somebody in the world, and +ought to be proud of it. But his long life of servitude, his shyness and +want of nerve, all weighed heavily upon him, and he was far from being +happy.</p> + +<p>Mr. Begg, senior partner of Messrs. Begg, Batter, and Bagg, was sitting +in his office a day or two later when a clerk ushered in the Earl of +Windgall.</p> + +<p>"What's this news about Gallowbay, Begg? Is it true?" asked the +earl.</p> + +<p>"It is certainly true," answered Begg.</p> + +<p>"What sort of fellow is this Kimberley?"</p> + +<p>"Well, he seems to be a shy little man, <i>gauche</i>, +and--and--underbred, even for his late position."</p> + +<p>"That's a pity. I should like to see him," added the grey little +nobleman. "I suppose you will act for him as you did for poor young +Edward?"</p> + +<p>Poor young Edward was the deceased minor whose early death had wrecked +the finest chances the Windgall family craft had ever carried.</p> + +<p>"I suppose so," said Begg.</p> + +<p>"I presume," said the earl, "that even if he wanted to call in his money +you could arrange elsewhere?"</p> + +<p>"With regard to the first mortgage?" asked Mr. Begg. "Certainly."</p> + +<p>"And what about the new arrangement?" asked the earl nervously.</p> + +<p>"Impossible, I regret to say."</p> + +<p>"Very well," returned the earl, with a sigh. "I suppose the timber must +go. If poor Edward had lived, it would all have been very different."</p> + +<p>Next day, when Kimberley, preposterously overdressed and thoroughly +ashamed of himself, was trying to talk business in Mr. Begg's office, the +Earl of Windgall was announced. There was nothing in the world that could +have terrified him more. And when the father of his ideal love, Lady Ella +Santerre, shook him by the hand, he could only gasp and gurgle in response. +But the earl's manner gradually reassured him, and in a little time he +began to plume himself in harmless trembling vanity upon sitting in the +same room with a nobleman and a great lawyer.</p> + +<p>"I am pleased to have met Mr. Kimberley," said the earl, in going; "and +I trust we shall see more of each other."</p> + +<p>Mr. Kimberley flushed, and bowed in a violent flutter.</p> + +<p>As the earl was driven homeward he could not help feeling that he was +engaged in a shameful enterprise. People would talk if he invited this +gilded little snob to Shouldershott Castle, and would know very well why he +was asked there. Let them talk.</p> + +<p>"A million and a quarter!" said the poor peer. "And if I don't catch +him, somebody else will."</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, Captain Jack Clare, an extremely popular young officer of +dragoons, was in the depths of despair. He was the younger brother of Lord +Montacute, whose family was poor; he loved Lady Ella Santerre, whose family +was still poorer. The heads of the families had forbidden the match for +financial reasons. He had stolen an interview with Ella, and had found that +she bowed to the decision of the seniors.</p> + +<p>"It is all quite hopeless and impossible," she had said. "Good-bye, +Jack!"</p> + +<p>As he rode dispiritedly away, he could not see, for the intervening +trees, that she was kneeling in the fern and crying.</p> + + +<h4><i>II.--A Peer in Difficulties</i></h4> + + +<p>The Lady Ella slipped an arm about her father's neck.</p> + +<p>"You are in trouble, dear," she said. "Can I help you?"</p> + +<p>"No," said the poor nobleman. "There's no help for it, Beggs says, and +they'll have to cut down the timber in the park. Poverty, my dear, +poverty."</p> + +<p>This was a blow, and a heavy one.</p> + +<p>"That isn't the worst of it," said Windgall, after a pause. "I am in the +hands of the Jews. A wretched Hebrew fellow says he <i>will</i> have a +thousand pounds by this day week. He might as well ask me for a +million."</p> + +<p>"The diamonds are worth more than a thousand pounds, dear," she said +gently.</p> + +<p>"No, no, my darling," he answered. "I have robbed you of everything +already."</p> + +<p>"You must take them, papa," she said in tender decision. She left him, +only to return in a few minutes' time with a dark shagreen case in her +hands. The earl paced about the room for a minute or two.</p> + +<p>"I take these," he said at last, "in bitter unwillingness, because I +can't help taking them, my dear. I had best get the business over, Ella. I +will go up to town this afternoon."</p> + +<p>During the whole of his journey the overdressed figure of Kimberley +seemed to stand before the embarrassed man, and a voice seemed to issue +from it. "Catch me, flatter me, wheedle me, marry me to one of your +daughters, and see the end of your woes." He despised himself heartily for +permitting the idea to enter his mind, but he could not struggle against +its intrusion.</p> + +<p>Next day Kimberley entered his jewellers to consult him concerning a +scarf-pin. It was a bull-dog's head, carved in lava, and not quite +life-size. The eyes were rubies, the collar was of gold and brilliants. +This egregious jewel was of his own designing, and was of a piece with his +general notions of how a millionaire should attire himself.</p> + +<p>As he passed through the door somebody leapt from a cab carrying +something in his hands, and jostled against him. He turned round +apologetically, and confronted the Earl of Windgall.</p> + +<p>His lordship looked like a man detected in a theft, and shook hands with +a confused tremor.</p> + +<p>"Can you spare me half an hour?" he asked. Then he handed the package to +the shop-man. "Take care of that," he stammered. "It is valuable. I will +call to-morrow."</p> + +<p>That afternoon Kimberley accepted an invitation to stay at Shouldershott +Castle.</p> + +<p>He was prodigiously flattered and fluttered. When he thought of being +beneath the same roof with Lady Ella, he flushed and trembled as he had +never done before.</p> + +<p>"I shall see her," he muttered wildly to himself. "I shall see her in +the 'alls, the 'alls of dazzling light." It is something of a wonder that +he did not lose his mental balance altogether.</p> + +<p>When he was daily in the presence of Ella, the little man's heart ached +with sweet anguish and helpless worship and desire. Yet before her he was +tongue-tied, incapable of uttering a consecutive sentence. With her +sister, Lady Alice Santerre, who had been the intended bride of the +deceased heir to the Gallowbay Estate, Kimberley felt on a different +footing. He had hardly ever been so much at ease with anybody in his life +as this young lady made him.</p> + +<p>Kimberley's own anxious efforts at self-improvement, Lady Alice's +good-natured advice, and the bold policy of the earl, who persuaded him to +undergo the terrors of an election, and get returned to Parliament as +member for Gallowbay, gradually made the millionaire a more presentable +person. He learned how to avoid dropping his h's; but two vices were +incurable--the shyness and his appalling taste in dress.</p> + +<p>The world, meanwhile, had guessed at the earl's motives in extending his +friendship to Kimberley, and the little man's name was knowingly linked +with that of Lady Alice. Kimberley came to hear what the world was saying +through meeting Mr. Blandy, his former employer. Mr. Blandy invited him to +his house, honoured the occasion with champagne, drank freely of it, and +became confidential.</p> + +<p>"The noble earl'll nail you f' one o' the girls, Kimbly. I'm a lill bit +'fected when I think, seeing my dear Kimbly 'nited marriage noble family. +That's what makes me talk like this. I b'leeve you're gone coon already, +ole man. 'Gratulate you, allmy heart."</p> + +<p>Kimberley went away in a degradation of soul. Was it possible that this +peer of the realm could be so coarsely and openly bent on securing him and +his money that the whole world should know of it? What had Kimberley, he +asked himself bitterly, to recommend him but his money? But then, +triumphing over his miseries, came the fancy--he could have his dream of +love; he had cried for the moon, and now he could have it.</p> + + +<h4><i>III.--Ella's Martyrdom</i></h4> + + +<p>The earl's liabilities amounted roughly to ninety thousand pounds. The +principal mortgagee was insisting upon payment or foreclosure, and there +was a general feeling abroad that the estate was involved beyond its +capacity to pay.</p> + +<p>Kimberley learned these circumstances in an interview with Mr. Begg. A +few days afterwards he drove up desperately to the castle and asked for a +private interview with his lordship.</p> + +<p>"My lord," he said, when they were alone, "I want to ask your lordship's +acceptance of these papers."</p> + +<p>The earl understood them at a glance. Kimberley had bought his +debts.</p> + +<p>"I ask you to take them now," Kimberley went on, "before I say another +word."</p> + +<p>He rose, walked to the fire, and dropped the papers on the smouldering +coal. The earl seized the papers and rescued them, soiled but unsinged.</p> + +<p>"Kimberley," he said, "I dare not lay myself under such an obligation to +any man alive."</p> + +<p>"They are yours, my lord," replied Kimberley. "I shall never touch them +again. You're under no obligation to me, my lord. But"--he blushed and +stammered--"I want to ask you for the hand of Lady Ella."</p> + +<p>It took Windgall a full minute to pull himself together. He had schooled +himself to the trembling hope that Alice might be chosen; but Ella! +"Forgive me," he began, "I was unprepared--I was not altogether +unprepared--" Then he lapsed into silence.</p> + +<p>"I will submit your proposal to my daughter," he said after a time, +"but--I am powerless--altogether powerless."</p> + +<p>Kimberley went home in a tremor of nervous anxiety, and Windgall sent +for his daughter.</p> + +<p>"I want you to understand, my dear," he began nervously, "that you are +free to act just as you will. Mr. Kimberley gave these into my hands this +morning"--showing her the papers. "He gave them freely, as a gift. If I +could accept them I should be free from the nightmare of debt. But in the +same breath with that unconditional gift, he asked me for your hand in +marriage."</p> + +<p>She kept silence.</p> + +<p>"You know our miserable necessities, Ella," he pleaded. "But I can't +force your inclinations in a matter like this, my dear."</p> + +<p>She ran to him, and threw her arms about his neck.</p> + +<p>"If it depends upon me to end your troubles, my dear, they are ended +already."</p> + +<p>"Shall I," he asked lamely, "make Kimberley happy?"</p> + +<p>She answered simply, "Yes."</p> + +<p>Kimberley came to luncheon next day. Lady Ella gave him a hand like +marble, and he kissed it. Her father, anxious to preserve a seeming +satisfaction, put his arm about her waist and kissed her. Her cheek was +like ice and her whole figure trembled.</p> + +<p>It was a dull, dreadful meal to all three who sat at table, and the +millionaire's heart was the heaviest and the sorest.</p> + +<p>If Ella suffered, she had the consolation, so dear to the nobler sort of +women, that she was a sacrifice. If Windgall suffered, he had a solid +compensation locked in the drawers of his library table. But Kimberley had +no consolation, and knew only that he was expected somehow to be happy, and +was, in spite of his prosperous wooing, more miserable than he had ever +been before.</p> + +<p>As time went on, Kimberley grew no happier. The gulf between Lady Ella +and himself had not been bridged by their betrothal. She was always +courteous to him, but always cold. She had accepted him, and yet----</p> + +<p>The first inkling that something was wrong came through the altered +demeanour of Alice. The girl was furious at her father for sacrificing her +sister, and furious with her sister for consenting to the sacrifice; her +former half-humourous comradeship for Kimberley was changed into chilly +disdain.</p> + +<p>The suspicions that were thus suggested to him were confirmed by a +meeting with Ella outside the castle lodge. As he approached, he caught +sight of her face as she was nodding a smiling good-bye to the old +gate-keeper. She saw Kimberley, and the smile fled from her face with so +swift a change, and left for a mere second something so like terror there, +that he could scarcely fail to notice it.</p> + +<p>He returned home possessed with remorse and shame. There was no doubt +what the end should be. Ella must be released.</p> + +<p>"She never cared about the money," he said, pacing the room with +tear-blotted face. "She wanted to save her father, and she was ready to +break her heart to do it. But she shall never break her heart through me. +No, no. What a fool I was to think she could ever be happy with a man like +me!"</p> + + +<h4><i>IV.--The Renunciation</i></h4> + + +<p>Jack Clare, with a heart burning with rage at what he deemed Ella's +treachery, had resigned his commission and bought an estate in New Zealand +with a sum of money that had been left him. He became possessed of a desire +to see Ella once more. He wrote to her that he was about to start for New +Zealand, and wished to say good-bye to her. This letter he brought to the +castle gate-keeper, and caused it to be taken to Ella. Then he paced up and +down the avenue, impatiently awaiting her.</p> + +<p>Destiny ordained that Kimberley should come that way just then on his +fateful errand of releasing Ella from her engagement. As he entered the +park his resolve failed him; he wandered unhappily to and fro, until he +became aware of a strange gentleman prowling about the avenue in a mighty +hurry. The stranger caught sight of him.</p> + +<p>"Pardon me," said Kimberley nervously, "have you lost your way?"</p> + +<p>Jack eyed him from head to foot--the vulgar glories of his attire, the +extraordinary bull-dog pin. This, he guessed, was Kimberley--the man to +whom Ella had sold herself. He smiled bitterly, and turned on his heel.</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon, sir," said Kimberley ruffled. "I did myself the +honour to address you."</p> + +<p>"You pestilential little cad!" cried Jack, wheeling round and letting +out his wrath; "go home!"</p> + +<p>"Cad, sir!" answered Kimberley in indignation.</p> + +<p>"I call any man a cad, sir," answered Jack, "who goes about dressed like +that."</p> + +<p>Jack walked on and Kimberley stood rooted to the ground. He was crushed +and overwhelmed beneath the sense of his own humiliation. His fineries had +been the one thing on which he had relied to make himself look like a +gentleman, and he knew now what they made him look like.</p> + +<p>He retreated to a little arboured seat, and a few minutes later would +have given anything to escape from it. For he was a witness of the parting +of Jack and Ella. He saw the tears streaming from her eyes; he heard Jack +tell her that he had never loved another woman and never would. As they +clasped each other's hands for the final good-bye, Jack seized her +passionately and kissed her. Her head fell back from his shoulder; she had +fainted. He laid her down upon the grass, and looked upon her in an agony +of fear and self-reproach. Then his mood changed.</p> + +<p>"Curse the man that broke her heart and mine!" he cried wildly. +"Darling, look up!"</p> + +<p>Presently she recovered, and he begged her forgiveness.</p> + +<p>"I am better," said Ella feebly. "Leave me now. Good-bye, dear!"</p> + +<p>Soon afterwards a little man, with a tear-stained face and enormous +bull-dog scarf-pin, arrived at the castle, and asked in a breaking voice to +see his lordship.</p> + +<p>"Did you know, my lord," he began, "that Lady Ella was breaking her +heart because she was to marry me?"</p> + +<p>"Really--"</p> + +<p>"You didn't know it? I should be glad to think you didn't. Perhaps in +spite of all I said, you thought I had bought those papers to have you in +my grasp. I am not a gentleman, my lord, but I hope I am above that. I was +a fool to think I could ever make Lady Ella happy, and I resign my claim +upon her hand, my lord, and I must leave your roof for ever."</p> + +<p>"Stop, sir!" cried the earl, in a rage of embarrassment and despair. He +seemed face to face with the wreck of all his hopes. "Do you know that this +is an insult to my daughter and to me?"</p> + +<p>"My lord," returned Kimberley, "I am very sorry, but it was a shame to +ask her to marry a man like me. I won't help to break her heart--I +can't--not if I break my own a million times over."</p> + +<p>The earl beat his foot upon the carpet. It was true enough. It +<i>had</i> been a shame; and yet the man was a gentleman when all was said +and done.</p> + +<p>"By heaven, Kimberley," cried his lordship, in spite of himself, "you +are a noble-hearted fellow!"</p> + +<p>"Excuse me the trouble I have caused you. Good-bye, my lord." Kimberley +bowed and left.</p> + +<p>That night Kimberley received a package containing the papers and a note +from the earl congratulating him on the magnanimous manner in which he had +acted, but declaring that he felt compelled to return the documents. This +added another drop to the bitterness of Kimberley's cup. He could well nigh +have died for shame; he could well nigh have died for pity of himself.</p> + + +<h4><i>V.--Kimberley's Wedding Gift</i></h4> + + +<p>"My lord," said Kimberley, as he met the earl of Windgall outside the +London hotel where the earl was staying, "can you give me a very few +minutes?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly," said his lordship. "You are not well?" he added, with +solicitude.</p> + +<p>He had brought a dispatch-box with him; he put it on the table and +slowly unlocked it. The earl's heart beat violently as he looked once more +upon the precious documents.</p> + +<p>"You sent these back to me," said Kimberley. "Will you take 'em now? My +lord, my lord, marry lady Ella to the man she loves, and take these for a +wedding gift. I helped to torture her. I have a right to help to make her +happy."</p> + +<p>Windgall was as wildly agitated as Kimberley himself. He recoiled and +waved his hands.</p> + +<p>"I--I do not think, Kimberley," he said with quivering lip, "that I have +ever known so noble an act before."</p> + +<p>"If I die," said Kimberley in a loud voice which quavered suddenly down +into a murmur, "everything is to go to Lady Ella, with my dearest love and +worship."</p> + +<p>Windgall caught only the first three words; he tugged at the bell-pull, +and sent for a doctor.</p> + +<p>An hour afterwards Kimberley was in bed with brain fever.</p> + +<p>On the following morning Jack Clare stood in the rain on the deck of the +steamship Patagonia, a travelling-cap pulled moodily over his eyes, +watching the bestowal of his belongings in the hold.</p> + +<p>"Honourable Captain Clare aboard?" cried a voice from the quay. A +messenger came and handed Jack a letter. He saw with amazement that it bore +the Windgall crest.</p> + +<p>It was a hastily written note from the earl stating that circumstances +had occurred which enabled him to withdraw his opposition to the union of +Clare with Lady Ella.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>Kimberley recovered. He can speak now to Clare's wife without +embarrassment and without pain. Has he forgotten his love? No. He will +never love again, never marry; but he is by no means unhappy or solitary or +burdened with regrets. And he knows that those for whom he made his great +sacrifice have given him their profoundest gratitude and sincerest +friendship.</p> + +<p>The ways of the world are various and many. And along them travel all +sorts of people. Very dark grey, indeed--almost black some of +them--middling grey, light grey, and here and there a figure that shines +with a pure white radiance.</p> + +<hr /> + + + + +<h2><a name="FRANK_NORRIS"></a>FRANK NORRIS</h2> + + +<h3><a name="The_Pit"></a>The Pit</h3> + + +<blockquote> Frank Norris, one of the most brilliant of contemporary +American novelists, was born at Chicago in 1870. He was educated at the +University of California and at Harvard, and also spent three years as an +art student in Paris. Afterwards he adopted journalism, and served in the +capacity of war correspondent for various newspapers. His first novel, +"McTeague," a virile, realistic romance, brought him instant recognition. +This was followed in 1900 by "Moran of the Lady Betty," a romantic +narrative of adventures on the Californian Coast. In 1901 Norris conceived +the idea of trilogy of novels dealing with wheat, the object being an +arraignment of wheat operations at Chicago, and the consequent gambling +with the world's food-supply. The first of the series, "The Octopus," deals +with wheat raising and transportation; the second, "The Pit," a vigorous, +human story covers wheat-exchange gambling, and appeared in 1903; the +third, which was to have been entitled "The Wolf," was cut short by the +author's death, which occurred on October 25, 1902. </blockquote> + + +<h4><i>I.--Curtis Jadwin and His Wife</i></h4> + + +<p>Laura Dearborn's native town was Barrington, in Massachusetts. Both she +and her younger sister Page had lived there until the death of their +father. The mother had died long before, and of all their relations, Aunt +Wess, who lived at Chicago, alone remained. It was at the entreaties of +Aunt Wess and of their dearest friends, the Cresslers, that the two girls +decided to live with their aunt in Chicago. Both Laura and Page had +inherited money, and when they faced the world they had the assurance that, +at least, they were independent.</p> + +<p>Chicago, the great grey city, interested Laura at every instant and +under every condition. The life was tremendous. All around, on every side, +in every direction, the vast machinery of commonwealth clashed and +thundered from dawn to dark, and from dark to dawn. For thousands of miles +beyond its confines the influence of the city was felt. At times Laura felt +a little frightened at the city's life, and of the men for whom all the +crash of conflict and commerce had no terrors. Those who could subdue this +life to their purposes, must they not be themselves terrible, pitiless, +brutal? What could women ever know of the life of men, after all?</p> + +<p>Her friend, Mr. Cressler, who had been almost a second father to her, +was in business, and had once lost a fortune by a gamble in wheat; and +there was Mr. Curtis Jadwin, whom she had met at the opera with the +Cresslers.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Cressler had told Laura, very soon after her arrival in Chicago, +that Mr. Jadwin wanted to marry her.</p> + +<p>"I've known Curtis Jadwin now for fifteen years--nobody better," said +Mrs. Cressler. "He's as old a family friend as Charlie and I have. And I +tell you the man is in love with you. He told me you had more sense and +intelligence than any girl he had ever known, and that he never remembered +to have seen a more beautiful woman. What do you think of him, Laura--of +Mr. Jadwin?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know," Laura answered. "I thought he was a <i>strong</i> +man--mentally, and that he would be kindly and generous. But I saw very +little of him."</p> + +<p>"Jadwin struck you as being a kindly man, a generous man? He's just +that, and charitable. You know, he has a Sunday-school over on the West +side--a Sunday-school for mission children--and I do believe he's more +interested in that than in his business. He wants to make it the biggest +Sunday-school in Chicago. It's an ambition of his. Laura," she exclaimed, +"he's a <i>fine man</i>. No one knows Curtis Jadwin better than Charlie and +I, and we just <i>love</i> him. The kindliest, biggest-hearted fellow. Oh, +well, you'll know him for yourself, and then you'll see!"</p> + +<p>"I don't know anything about him," Laura had remarked in answer to this. +"I never heard of him before the theatre party."</p> + +<p>But Mrs. Cressler promptly supplied information. Curtis Jadwin was a man +about thirty-five, who had begun life without a <i>sou</i> in his pockets. +His people were farmers in Michigan, hardy, honest fellows, who ploughed +and sowed for a living. Curtis had only a rudimentary schooling, and had +gone into business with a livery-stable keeper. Someone in Chicago owed him +money, and, in default of payment, had offered him a couple of lots of +ground on Wabash Avenue. That was how he happened to come to Chicago. +Naturally enough, as the city grew the Wabash Avenue property increased in +value. He sold the lots, and bought other real estate; sold that, and +bought somewhere else, and so on till he owned some of the best business +sites in the city, and was now one of the largest real-estate owners in +Chicago. But he no longer bought and sold. His property had grown so large, +that just the management of it alone took up most of his time. As a rule, +he deplored speculation. He had no fixed principles about it, and +occasionally he hazarded small operations.</p> + +<p>It was after this that Laura's first aversion to the great grey city +fast disappeared, and she saw it in a kindlier aspect.</p> + +<p>Soon it was impossible to deny that Curtis Jadwin--"J" as he was called +in business--was in love with her. The business man, accustomed to deal +with situations with unswerving directness, was not in the least afraid of +Laura. He was aggressive, assertive, and his addresses had all the +persistence and vehemence of veritable attack. He contrived to meet her +everywhere, and even had the Cresslers and Laura over to his mission +Sunday-school for the Easter festival, an occasion of which Laura carried +away a confused recollection of enormous canvas mottoes, sheaves of lilies, +imitation bells of tinfoil, revival hymns vociferated from seven hundred +distended mouths, and through it all the smell of poverty, the odour of +uncleanliness, that mingled strangely with the perfume of the lilies.</p> + +<p>Somehow Laura found that with Jadwin all the serious, all the sincere, +earnest side of her character was apt to come to the front.</p> + +<p>Yet for a long time Laura could not make up her mind that she loved him, +but "J" refused to be dismissed.</p> + +<p>"I told him I did not love him. Only last week I told him so," Laura +explained to Mrs. Cressler.</p> + +<p>"Well, then, why did you promise to marry him?"</p> + +<p>"My goodness! You don't realise what it's been. Do you suppose you can +say 'no' to that man?"</p> + +<p>"Of course not--of course not!" declared Mrs. Cressler joyfully. "That's +'J' all over. I might have known he'd have you if he set out to do it."</p> + +<p>They were married on the last day of June of that summer in the +Episcopalian church. Immediately after the wedding the couple took the +train for Geneva Lake, where Jadwin had built a house for his bride.</p> + + +<h4><i>II.--A Corner in Wheat</i></h4> + + +<p>The months passed. Soon three years had gone by since the ceremony in +St. James's Church, and all that time the price of wheat had been steadily +going down. Heavy crops the world over had helped the decline.</p> + +<p>Jadwin had been drawn into the troubled waters of the Pit, and was by +now "blooded to the game." It was in April that he decided that better +times and higher prices were coming for wheat, and announced his intentions +to Sam Gretry, his broker.</p> + +<p>"Sam," he said, "the time is come for a great big chance. We've been +hammering wheat down and down and down till we've got it below the cost of +production, and now she won't go any further with all the hammering in the +world. The other fellows, the rest of the bear crowd, don't seem to see it; +but I see it. Before fall we're going to have higher prices. Wheat is going +up, and when it does I mean to be right there. I'm going to <i>buy</i>. I'm +going to buy September wheat, and I'm going to buy it to-morrow--500,000 +bushels of it; and if the market goes as I think it will later on, I'm +going to buy more. I'm going to boost this market right through till the +last bell rings, and from now on Curtis Jadwin spells b-u-double +l--bull."</p> + +<p>"They'll slaughter you," said Gretry; "slaughter you in cold blood. +You're just one man against a gang--a gang of cut-throats. Those bears have +got millions and millions back of them. 'J,' you are either Napoleonic, +or--or a colossal idiot!"</p> + +<p>All through the three years that had passed Jadwin had grown continually +richer. His real estate appreciated in value; rents went up. Every time he +speculated in wheat it was upon a larger scale, and every time he won. +Hitherto he had been a bear; now, after the talk with Gretry, he had +secretly "turned bull" with the suddenness of a strategist.</p> + +<p>A marvellous golden luck followed Jadwin all that summer. The crops were +poor, the yield moderate.</p> + +<p>Jadwin sold out in September, having made a fortune, and then, in a +single vast clutch, bought 3,000,000 bushels of the December option.</p> + +<p>Never before had he ventured so deeply into the Pit.</p> + +<p>One morning in November, at breakfast, Laura said to her husband, +"Curtis, dear, when is it all going to end--your speculating? You never +used to be this way. It seems as though, nowadays, I never had you to +myself. Even when you are not going over papers and reports, or talking by +the hour to Mr. Gretry in the library, your mind seems to be away from me. +I--I am lonesome, dearest, sometimes. And, Curtis, what is the use? We're +so rich now we can't spend our money."</p> + +<p>"Oh, it's not the money!" he answered. "It's the fun of the thing--the +excitement."</p> + +<p>That very week Jadwin made 500,000 dollars.</p> + +<p>"I don't own a grain of wheat now," he assured his wife. "I've got to be +out of it."</p> + +<p>But try as he would, the echoes of the rumbling of the Pit reached +Jadwin at every hour of the day and night. He stayed at home over +Christmas. Inactive, he sat there idle, while the clamour of the Pit +swelled daily louder, and the price of wheat went up.</p> + +<p>Jadwin chafed and fretted at his inaction and his impatience harried him +like a gadfly. Would no one step into the place of high command.</p> + +<p>Very soon the papers began to speak of an unknown "bull" clique who were +rapidly coming into control of the market, and it was no longer a secret to +Laura that her husband had gone back to the market, and that, too, with +such an impetuosity that his rush had carried him to the very heart of the +turmoil.</p> + +<p>He was now deeply involved; his influence began to be felt. Not an +important move on the part of the "unknown bull," the nameless, mysterious +stranger, that was not noted and discussed.</p> + +<p>It was very late in the afternoon of a lugubrious March day when Jadwin +and Gretry, in the broker's private room, sat studying the latest +Government reports as to the supply of wheat, and Jadwin observed, "Why, +Sam, there's less than 100,000,000 bushels in the farmers' hands. That's +awfully small."</p> + +<p>"It ain't, as you might say, colossal," admitted Gretry.</p> + +<p>"Sam," said Jadwin again, "the shipments have been about 5,000,000 a +week; 20,000,000 a month, and it's four months before a new crop. Europe +will take 80,000,000 out of the country. I own 10,000,000 now. Why, there +ain't going to be any wheat left in Chicago by May! If I get in now, and +buy a long line of cash wheat, where are all these fellows going to get it +to deliver to me? Say, where are they going to get it? Come on, now, tell +me, where are they going to get it?"</p> + +<p>Gretry laid down his pencil, and stared at Jadwin.</p> + +<p>"'J,'" he faltered, "'J,' I'm blest if I know."</p> + +<p>And then, all in the same moment, the two men were on their feet.</p> + +<p>Jadwin sprang forward, gripping the broker by the shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Sam," he shouted, "do you know----Great God! Do you know what this +means? Sam, we can corner the market!"</p> + + +<h4><i>III.--The Corner Breaks</i></h4> + + +<p>The high prices meant a great increase of wheat acreage. In June the +preliminary returns showed 4,000,000 more acres under wheat in the two +states of Dakota alone, and in spite of all Gretry's remonstrances, Jadwin +still held on, determined to keep up prices to July.</p> + +<p>But now it had become vitally necessary for Jadwin to sell out his +holdings. His "long line" was a fearful expense; insurance and storage +charges were eating rapidly into the profits. He <i>must</i> get rid of the +load he was carrying little by little.</p> + +<p>A month ago, and the foreign demand was a thing almost insensate. There +was no question as to the price. It was, "Give us the wheat, at whatever +figure, at whatever expense."</p> + +<p>At home in Chicago Jadwin was completely master of the market. His +wealth increased with such rapidity that at no time was he able even to +approximate the gains that accrued to him because of his corner. It was +more than twenty million, and less than fifty million. That was all he +knew.</p> + +<p>It was then that he told Gretry he was going to buy in the July +crops.</p> + +<p>"' J,' listen to me," said Gretry. "Wheat is worth a dollar and a half +to-day, and not one cent more. If you run it up to two dollars--"</p> + +<p>"It will go there of itself, I tell you."</p> + +<p>"If you run it up to two dollars it will be that top-heavy that the +littlest kick in the world will knock it over. Be satisfied now with what +you've, got. Suppose the price does break a little, you'd still make your +pile. But swing this deal over into July, and it's ruin. The farmers all +over the country are planting wheat as they've never planted it before. +Great Scott, 'J,' you're fighting against the earth itself."</p> + +<p>"Well, we'll fight it then."</p> + +<p>"Here's another point," went on Gretry. "You ought to be in bed this +very minute. You haven't got any nerves left at all. You acknowledge you +don't sleep. You ought to see a doctor."</p> + +<p>"Fiddlesticks!" exclaimed Jadwin. "I'm all right. Haven't time to see a +doctor."</p> + +<p>So the month of May drew to its close, and as Jadwin beheld more and +more the broken speculators, with their abject humility, a vast contempt +for human nature grew within him. The business hardened his heart, and he +took his profits as if by right of birth.</p> + +<p>His wife he saw but seldom. Occasionally they breakfasted together; more +often they met at dinner. But that was all.</p> + +<p>And now by June 11 the position was critical.</p> + +<p>"The price broke to a dollar and twenty yesterday," said Gretry. "Just +think, we were at a dollar and a half a little while ago."</p> + +<p>"And we'll be at two dollars in another ten days, I tell you."</p> + +<p>"Do you know how we stand, 'J'?" said the broker gravely. "Do you know +how we stand financially? It's taken pretty nearly every cent of our ready +money to support this July market. Oh, we can figure out our paper profits +into the millions. We've got thirty, forty, fifty million bushels of wheat +that's worth over a dollar a bushel; but if we can't sell it we're none the +better off--and that wheat is costing us six thousand dollars a day. +Where's the money going to come from, old man? You don't seem to realise +that we are in a precarious condition. The moment we can't give our boys +buying orders, the moment we admit that we can't buy all the wheat that's +offered, there's the moment we bust."</p> + +<p>"Well, we'll buy it," cried Jadwin. "I'll show those brutes. I'll +mortgage all my real estate, and I'll run up wheat so high before the next +two days that the Bank of England can't pull it down; then I'll sell our +long line, and with the profits of that I'll run it up again. Two dollars! +Why, it will be two-fifty before you know how it happened."</p> + +<p>That day Jadwin placed as heavy a mortgage as the place would stand upon +every piece of real estate that he owned. He floated a number of promissory +notes, and taxed his credit to its farthest stretch. But sure as he was of +winning, Jadwin could, not bring himself to involve his wife's money in the +hazard, though his entire personal fortune swung in the balance.</p> + +<p>Jadwin knew the danger. The new harvest was coming in--the new harvest +of wheat--huge beyond all possibility of control; so vast that no money +could buy it. And from Liverpool and Paris cables had come in to Gretry +declining to buy wheat, though he had offered it cheaper than he had ever +done before.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>On the morning of June 13, Gretry gave his orders to young Landry Court +and his other agents in the Pit, to do their best to keep the market up. +"You can buy each of you up to half a million bushels apiece. If that don't +keep the price up--well, I'll let you know what to do. Look here, keep your +heads cool. I guess to-day will decide things."</p> + +<p>In the Pit roar succeeded roar. It seemed that a support long thought to +be secure was giving way. Not a man knew what he or his neighbour was +doing. The bids leaped to and fro, and the price of July wheat could not so +much as be approximated.</p> + +<p>Landry caught one of the Gretry traders by the arm.</p> + +<p>"What shall we do?" he shouted. "I've bought up to my limit. No more +orders have come in. What's to be done?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know," the other shouted back--"I don't know! Looks like a +smash; something's gone wrong."</p> + +<p>In Gretry's office Jadwin stood hatless and pale. Around him were one of +the heads of a great banking house and a couple of other men, confidential +agents, who had helped to manipulate the great corner.</p> + +<p>"It's the end of the game," Gretry exclaimed, "you've got no more money! +Not another order goes up to that floor."</p> + +<p>"It's a lie!" Jadwin cried, "keep on buying, I tell you! Take all +they'll offer. I tell you we'll touch the two dollar mark before noon."</p> + +<p>"It's useless, Mr. Jadwin," said the banker quietly, "You were +practically beaten two days ago."</p> + +<p>But Jadwin was beyond all appeal. He threw off Gretry's hand.</p> + +<p>"Get out of my way!" he shouted. "Do you hear? I'll play my hand alone +from now on."</p> + +<p>"'J,' old man--why, see here!" Gretry implored, still holding him by the +arm. "Here, where are you going?"</p> + +<p>Jadwin's voice rang like a trumpet-call:</p> + +<p>"<i>Into the Pit!</i> If you won't execute my orders I'll act myself. +I'm going into the Pit, I tell you!"</p> + +<p>"'J,' you're mad, old fellow! You're ruined--don't you +understand?--you're ruined!"</p> + +<p>"Then God curse you, Sam Gretry, for the man who failed me in a crisis!" +And, as he spoke, Curtis Jadwin struck the broker full in the face.</p> + +<p>Gretry staggered back from the blow. His pale face flashed to crimson +for an instant, his fists clenched; then his hands fell to his sides.</p> + +<p>"No," he said; "let him go--let him go. The man is merely mad!"</p> + +<p>Jadwin thrust the men who tried to hold him to one side, and rushed from +the room.</p> + +<p>"It's the end," Gretry said simply. He wrote a couple of lines, and +handed the note to the senior clerk. "Take that to the secretary of the +board at once."</p> + +<p>Straight into the turmoil and confusion of the Pit, into the scene of so +many of his victories, came the "Great Bull." The news went flashing and +flying from lip to lip. The wheat Pit, torn and tossed and rent asunder, +stood dismayed, so great had been his power. What was about to happen? +Jadwin himself, the great man, in the Pit! Had his enemies been too +premature in their hope of his defeat? For a second they hesitated, then +moved by a common impulse, feeling the push of the wonderful new harvest +behind them, gathered themselves together for the final assault, and again +offered the wheat for sale--offered it by thousands upon thousands of +bushels.</p> + +<p>Blind and insensate, Jadwin strove against the torrent of the wheat. +Under the stress and violence of the hour, something snapped in his brain; +but he stood erect there in the middle of the Pit, iron to the end, +proclaiming over the din of his enemies, like a bugle sounding to the +charge of a forlorn hope.</p> + +<p>"Give a dollar for July--give a dollar for July!"</p> + +<p>Then little by little the tumult of the Pit subsided. There were sudden +lapses in the shouting, and again the clamour would break out.</p> + +<p>All at once the Pit, the entire floor of the Board of Trade, was struck +dumb. In the midst of the profound silence the secretary announced. "All +trades with Gretry & Co. must be closed at once!"</p> + +<p>The words were greeted with a wild yell of exultation. Beaten--beaten at +last, the Great Bull! Smashed! The great corner smashed! Jadwin busted! +Cheer followed cheer, hats went into the air. Men danced and leaped in a +frenzy of delight.</p> + +<p>Young Landry Court, who had stood by Jadwin in the Pit, led his defeated +captain out. Jadwin was in a daze--he saw nothing, heard nothing, but +submitted to Landry's guidance.</p> + +<p>From the Pit came the sound of dying cheers.</p> + +<p>"They can cheer now all they want. <i>They didn't do it,"</i> said a man +at the door. "It was the wheat itself that beat him; no combination of men +could have done it."</p> + + +<h4><i>IV.--A Fresh Start</i></h4> + + +<p>The evening had closed in wet and misty, and when Laura Jadwin came down +to the dismantled library a heavy rain was falling.</p> + +<p>"There, dear," Laura said, "now sit down on the packing-box there. You +had better put your hat on. It is full of draughts now that the furniture +and curtains are out. You've had a pretty bad siege of it, you know, and +this is only the first week you've been up."</p> + +<p>"I've had too good a nurse," he answered, stroking her hand, "not to be +as fit as a fiddle by now. You must be tired yourself, Laura. Why, for +whole days there--and nights, too, they tell me--you never left the +room."</p> + +<p>Laura shook her head, and said:</p> + +<p>"I wonder what the West will be like. Do you know I think I am going to +like it, Curtis?"</p> + +<p>"It will be starting in all over again, old girl. Pretty hard at first, +I'm afraid."</p> + +<p>"Hard--now?" She took his hand and laid it to her cheek.</p> + +<p>"By all the rules you ought to hate me," he began. "What have I done for +you but hurt you, and at last bring you to----"</p> + +<p>But she shut her gloved-hand over his mouth.</p> + +<p>"The world is all before us where to choose, now, isn't it?" she +answered. "And this big house and all the life we have led in it was just +an incident in our lives--an incident that is closed."</p> + +<p>"We're starting all over again, honey.... Well, there's the carriage, I +guess."</p> + +<p>They rose, gathering up their valises.</p> + +<p>"Ho!" said Jadwin. "No servants now, Laura, to carry our things down for +us and open the door; and it's a hack, old girl, instead of the +victoria."</p> + +<p>"What if it is?" she cried. "What do servants, money, and all amount to +now?"</p> + +<p>As Jadwin laid his hand upon the knob of the front door, he all at once +put down his valise and put his arm about his wife. She caught him about +the neck, and looked deep into his eyes a long moment, and then, without +speaking, they kissed each other.</p> + +<hr /> + + + + +<h2><a name="GEORGES_OHNET"></a>GEORGES OHNET</h2> + + +<h3><a name="The_Ironmaster"></a>The Ironmaster</h3> + + +<blockquote> Georges Ohnet, one of the most prolific and popular of French +novelists and playwrights, was born in Paris on April 3, 1848. His father +was an architect, and, after a period devoted to the study of law, Georges +Ohnet adopted a journalistic career. He first came into prominence as the +part-author of the drama "Regina Sarpi," in 1875. "The Ironmaster, or Love +and Pride," was originally conceived as a play, and as such was submitted +in vain to the theatrical managers of Paris. It was entitled "Marrying for +Money" ("Les Mariages d'Argent") and on its rejection he laid it aside and +directed his attention to the novel, "Serge Panine." This was immediately +successful, and was crowned with honour by the French Academy. Its author +adapted it as a play, and then, in 1883, did the opposite with "Les Manages +d'Argent," calling it "Le Maitre de Forges." As a novel, "The Ironmaster," +with its dramatic plot and strong, moving story, attracted universal +attention, and has been translated into several European languages. +</blockquote> + + +<h4><i>I.--The Faithless Lover</i></h4> + + +<p>The Château de Beaulieu, in the Louis XIII. style, is built of +white stone with red brick dressings. A broad terrace more than five +hundred yards long, with a balustrade in red granite, and decked with +parterres of flowers, becomes a delightful walk in autumn. M. Derblay's +ironworks may have somewhat spoilt the beauty of the landscape, but +Beaulieu remains a highly covetable estate.</p> + +<p>Madame de Beaulieu sat in the drawing-room knitting woollen hoods for +the children in the village, while her daughter Claire contemplated, +without seeing it, the admirable horizon before her. At last, turning her +beautiful, sad face to her mother, she asked, "How long is it since we have +had any letters from St. Petersburg?"</p> + +<p>"Come," said the marchioness, taking hold of Claire's hands--"come, why +do you always think about that, and torture your mind so?"</p> + +<p>"What can I think of," answered Claire bitterly, "but of my betrothed? +And how can I avoid torturing my mind as you say, in trying to divine the +reason of his silence?"</p> + +<p>"I own it is difficult to explain," rejoined the marchioness. "After +spending a week with us last year, my nephew, the Duc de Bligny, started +off promising to return to Paris during the winter. He next began by +writing that political complications detained him at his post. Summer came, +but not the duke. Here now is autumn, and Gaston no longer even favours us +with pretences. He does not even trouble to write."</p> + +<p>"But supposing he were ill?" Claire ventured to say.</p> + +<p>"That is out of the question," replied the marchioness pitilessly. "The +embassy would have informed us. You may be sure he is in perfect health, +and that he led the cotillon all last winter in the ball-rooms of St. +Petersburg."</p> + +<p>Claire, forcing herself to smile, said, "It must be confessed, mother, +he is not jealous, and yet I have been courted wherever I have gone, and am +scarcely allowed to remain in peace, even in this desert of Beaulieu. It +would seem I have attracted the attention of our neighbour the +ironmaster."</p> + +<p>"Monsieur Derblay?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, mother; but his homage is respectful, and I have no cause to +complain of him. I only mentioned him as an example--as one of many. The +duke stays away, and I remain here alone, patient and--"</p> + +<p>"And you act very wrongly!" exclaimed the marchioness.</p> + +<p>The opportunity of easing her mind was not to be lost, and she told +Claire that if the marriage ever did take place she feared there would be +cause for regret. But her daughter's violent emotion made her realise more +forcibly than ever how deeply and firmly Claire was attached to the Due de +Bligny. So she assured her she had heard nothing fresh about him, and hoped +they might have news from the De Prefonts, who were to arrive that day from +Paris.</p> + +<p>"Ah!" interrupted Mdlle. de Beaulieu, "here is Octave coming with +Monsieur Bachelin, the notary." And she went to meet them, looking the +living incarnation of youth in all its grace and vigour.</p> + +<p>"You have had good sport, it seems," she said, waylaying her brother, +and feeling the weight of his game-bag.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'll be modest. This game was not killed by me," answered the +marquis; and explained that he had lost his way on the Pont Avesnes land, +and had been rather haughtily accosted by another sportsman, who, however, +as soon as he heard his name, became very polite, and forced him to accept +the contents of his own bag.</p> + +<p>Maitre Bachelin immediately informed them that this must have been the +ironmaster himself, whom he had been to see that morning, and all questions +at issue about the boundaries of the estates were as good as settled.</p> + +<p>"For," said he, "my worthy friend accepts whatever conditions you may +lay down. The only point now is to sign the preliminaries, and with this +object Monsieur Derblay proposes to call at Beaulieu with his sister, Mile. +Suzanne; that is, if you are pleased to authorise him, Madame la +Marquise."</p> + +<p>"Oh, certainly. Let him come by all means. I shall be glad to see this +Cyclops, who is blackening all the valley. But come, you have, no doubt, +brought me some fresh documents in reference to our English lawsuit."</p> + +<p>"Yes, Madame la Marquise, yes," rejoined Bachelin, with an appealing +look. "We will talk business if you desire it."</p> + +<p>Without asking any questions, Claire and the marquise gave their mother +a smile, and left the drawing-room.</p> + +<p>"Well, Bachelin, have the English courts decided? Is the action +lost?"</p> + +<p>The notary lacked courage to reply in words, but his gesture was +sufficient. The marchioness bit her lips, and a tear glittered for a +moment.</p> + +<p>"Ah!" said the notary. "It is a terrible blow for the house of +Beaulieu."</p> + +<p>"Terrible indeed," said the marchioness; "for it implies my son's and my +daughter's ruin. Misfortunes seldom come singly," she resumed. "I suppose +you have some other bad news for me, Bachelin. Tell me everything. You have +news of the Duc de Bligny?"</p> + +<p>"For the last six weeks M. le Duc de Bligny has been in Paris."</p> + +<p>"He is aware of the misfortune that has overtaken us?"</p> + +<p>"He knew of it one of the first, Madame la Marquise."</p> + +<p>The marchioness was grieved more cruelly by this than by the money loss; +and the notary was thus emboldened to tell her that a gallant friend of +his, M. Derblay, whose father had been kind enough to call Maitre Bachelin +his friend, had fallen passionately in love with Mdlle. de Beaulieu, and +would be the happiest man in the world if he were even allowed to hope. He +advised the marchioness not to say anything at present to her daughter. +Maybe the duke would return to more honourable feelings, and it would +always be time enough for Mdlle. Claire to suffer."</p> + +<p>"You are right; but, at all events, I must inform my son of this blow +that strikes him."</p> + +<p>Octave was not surprised, but affectionately taking his mother's hand, +said, "My only concern was for my sister, whose dowry was at stake. You +must leave her the part of your fortune you were reserving for me. Don't +you think, mother, that our cousin De Bligny's silence has some connection +with the loss of this lawsuit?"</p> + +<p>"You are mistaken, child," cried the marchioness eagerly. "For the +duke----"</p> + +<p>"Oh, fear nothing, mother," said Octave. "If Gaston hesitates now that +Mdlle. de Beaulieu no longer comes to him with a million in either hand, we +are not, I fancy, the sort of folk to seize him by the collar and compel +him to keep his promises."</p> + +<p>"Well said, my son," cried the marchioness.</p> + +<p>Bachelin took respectful leave of his noble clients, and hurried off to +Pont Avesnes as fast as his legs could carry him.</p> + + +<h4><i>II.--M. Derblay's Passion</i></h4> + + +<p>It was really M. Derblay whom the Marquis de Beaulieu had met in the +woods of Pont Avesnes. Letting Octave call after him as loud as he liked, +he hurried on through the woods. Chance had brought him nearer to the woman +he adored from afar, in a dream as it were, and his heart was full of joy. +He, Philippe, might approach her--he would be able to speak to her. But at +the thought of the Duc de Bligny, a feeling of deep sadness overcame him, +and his strength waned.</p> + +<p>He recalled to mind all the exploits of his life, and asked himself if, +in virtue of the task he had accomplished, he were not really deserving of +happiness. After very brilliant studies, he had left the polytechnic school +with first honours, and had chosen the state mining service when the +Franco-German war had broken out. He was then two-and-twenty, and had just +obtained an appointment, but at once enlisted as a volunteer. He served +with distinction, and when at last he started for home he wore on his +breast the ribbon of the Legion of Honour. He found the house in mourning. +His mother had just died, and his little sister, Suzanne, just seven years +old, clung to him with convulsive tenderness. Within six months his father +also died, leaving his affairs in a most confused state.</p> + +<p>Philippe renounced the brilliant career as an engineer already chalked +out before him, and that his sister might not be dowerless, became a +manufacturer. In seven years he had liquidated the paternal inheritance; +his property was really his own, and he felt capable of greatly extending +his enterprises. Popular in the district, he might come forward at the +elections to be returned as a deputy. Who knew? Hope revived in Philippe +Derblay's heart.</p> + +<p>After a long talk with Maitre Bachelin, he, on considering the +situation, felt it was not unfavourable to his hopes. When he presented +himself at Beaulieu, the marchioness received him kindly, and, touching +Suzanne's fair hair with her lips, "There is peace signed on this child's +forehead," said she. "All your sins are forgiven you, neighbour. And now +come and let me introduce you to the family."</p> + +<p>A burning flush suffused Philippe's face, and he bowed low before the +girl he adored.</p> + +<p>"Why, he's a gentleman, dear!" whispered the baroness to Claire. "And +think, I pictured him with a leather apron! Why, he's decorated, and the +baron isn't! He's really very good-looking, and his eyes are superb!"</p> + +<p>Claire looked at him almost sternly. The contrast was complete between +him and Bligny, far away. Philippe was relieved to find the Baron de +Préfont present; he had read a treatise of his, which delighted the +baron, who at once became very friendly, and insisted on visiting the +ironworks. Only Claire remained frigid and indifferent, and this on his +second visit, instead of disconcerting the ironmaster, only irritated him; +and the more she pretended to ignore him the more determined he became to +compel her to notice him. They were all on the terrace when Monsieur and +Mademoiselle Monlinet were announced.</p> + +<p>"What can these people want?" said Madame de Beaulieu.</p> + +<p>Monsieur Monlinet was a wealthy tradesman, who had just bought the +Château de la Varenne, near by. His daughter had been at school with +Claire and the Baroness de Préfont, and a bitter warfare was waged +incessantly between the juvenile aristocrats and the monied damsels without +handles to their names. All recollections of Athénais had faded from +Claire's mind, but hatred was still rife in Mlle. Monlinet's heart; and +when her father, in view of her marriage, bought La Varenne for her, the +château was a threatening fortress, whence she might pounce down on +her enemy.</p> + +<p>Now she advanced towards Mlle, de Beaulieu when she entered the +drawing-room at Beaulieu and threw her arms round her neck, and boldly +exclaimed, "Ah, my beautiful Claire! How happy am I to see you!"</p> + +<p>This young person had wonderfully improved, had become very pretty, and +now paralysed her adversaries by her audacity. She soon contrived to leave +the others, and when alone with Claire informed her she had come to beg for +advice respecting her marriage.</p> + +<p>Mlle, de Beaulieu instantly divined what her relatives had been hiding +so carefully, and though she became very pale while Athénais looked +at her in fiendish delight, she determined to die rather than own her love +for Gaston, and exerted all her will to master herself. The noise of a +furious gallop resounded, and the Duc de Bligny dashed into the courtyard +on a horse white with foam. He would have entered the drawing-room, but the +baron hindered him, while Maître Bachelin went to ask if he might be +received.</p> + +<p>Claire wore a frightful expression of anger.</p> + +<p>"Be kind enough"--she turned to Bachelin--"to ask the duke to go round +to the terrace and wait a moment. Don't bring him in till I make you a sign +from the window; but, in the meantime, send M. Derblay to me."</p> + +<p>The marchioness and the baroness immediately improvided a +<i>mise-en-scéne,</i> so that when the duke entered, he perceived +the marchioness seated as usual in her easy chair, the baroness standing +near the chimney-piece, and Claire with her back to the light. He bowed low +before the noble woman who had been his second mother.</p> + +<p>"Madame la Marquise," he said, "my dear aunt, you see my emotion--my +grief! Claire, I cannot leave this room till you have forgiven me!"</p> + +<p>"But you owe me no explanation, duke," Claire said, with amazing +serenity; "and you need no forgiveness. I have been told you intend to +marry. You had the right to do so, it seems to me. Were you not as free as +myself?"</p> + +<p>Thereupon, approaching the doorway, she made a sign to Philippe. +Athénais boldly followed the ironmaster.</p> + +<p>"I must introduce you to one another, gentlemen. Monsieur le Duc de +Bligny--my cousin." Then, turning towards her faithless lover, and defying +him, as it were, with her proud gaze, she added, "Duke, Monsieur Derblay, +my future husband."</p> + + +<h4><i>III.--The Ironmaster's Disappointment</i></h4> + + +<p>Touched by the disinterested delicacy of M. Derblay, the marchioness +sanctioned her daughter's sudden determination without anxiety. In her +mother's presence, Claire showed every outward sign of happiness, but her +heart became bitter and her mind disturbed, and nought remained of the +noble, tender-hearted Claire.</p> + +<p>Her only object now was to avenge herself on Athénais and +humiliate the duke; and the preparations for the wedding were carried on +with incredible speed. Left ignorant of the ironmaster's generous +intentions, she attributed his ready deference to all her wishes to his +ambition to become her husband, and even felt contempt for the readiness +with which he had enacted his part in the humiliating comedy played before +the duke, so thoroughly did she misjudge passionate, generous-hearted +Philippe, whose only dream was to restore her happiness.</p> + +<p>Mlle, de Beaulieu arrived at two decisions which stupefied everybody. +She wished the wedding to take place at midnight, without the least pomp, +and only the members of the two families to be present. The marchioness +raised her hands to heaven, and the marquis asked his sister if she were +going mad, but Philippe declared these wishes seemed very proper to him, +and so they were carried out.</p> + +<p>The marriage contract was signed on the eve of the great day. Claire +remained ignorant of the fact that she was ruined, and signed quite +unsuspectingly the act which endowed her with half M. Derblay's +fortune.</p> + +<p>The service was performed with the same simplicity as would have been +observed at a pauper's wedding. The dreary music troubled the duke, and +reminded him of his father's funeral, when his aunt and cousins wept with +him. He was now alone. Separated for ever from the dear ones who had been +so kind to him, he compared Philippe's conduct with his own, and, turning +his eyes to Claire, divined that she wept. A light broke on him; he +realised the ironmaster's true position, and decided he might revenge +himself very sweetly.</p> + +<p>"She weeps," he said to himself. "She hates that man, and still loves +me."</p> + +<p>After the service he looked in vain for traces of tears. She was calm +and smiling, and spoke in perfect self-possession.</p> + +<p>But when she was left alone, all on a sudden she found herself face to +face with the cruel reality. She held herself and Philippe in horror. She +must have been mad, and he had acted most unworthily in lending himself to +her plans. When he at last ventured to come to her, her harsh expression +astonished him. She managed to convey to him her wish to remain alone, and +he showed himself so proud and magnanimous, she asked herself if it would +be possible for her to live apart from him. How could she for ever repel +such a loyal, generous man without showing herself unjust and cruel?</p> + +<p>Her husband approached her. His lips touched her forehead. "Till +to-morrow," he said. But as he touched her he was seized with a mad, +passionate longing. He caught her in his arms in an irresistible transport. +"Oh, if you only knew how much I love you!"</p> + +<p>Surprised at first, Claire turned livid.</p> + +<p>"Leave me!" she cried in an angry voice.</p> + +<p>Philippe drew back. "What!" he said, in a troubled voice. "You repel me +with horror! Do you hate me, then? And why? Ah, that man who forsook you so +cowardly--that man, do you still happen to love him?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, have you not perceived that I have been mad?" cried Claire, ceasing +to restrain herself. "I have deserved your anger and contempt, no doubt. +Come, take everything belonging to me except myself! My fortune is yours. I +give it you. Let it be the ransom of my liberty."</p> + +<p>Philippe was on the point of revealing the truth, which he had hitherto +hidden with such delicacy and care, but he cast the idea aside. "Do you +really take me for a man who sells himself?" he asked coldly. "I, who came +here but a little while ago, palpitating and trembling to tell my love! +Wasn't I more than mad, more than grotesque? For, after all, I have your +fortune. I'm paid. I have no right to complain."</p> + +<p>Philippe burst into a bitter laugh, and falling on the sofa, hid his +face in his hands.</p> + +<p>"Monsieur," said Claire haughtily, "let us finish this. Spare me useless +raillery----"</p> + +<p>Philippe showed his face, down which tears were streaming. "I am not +railing, madame; I am weeping--mourning my happiness, for ever lost. But +this is enough weakness. You wished to purchase your liberty. I give it you +for nothing. You will realise one day that you have been even more unjust +than cruel, and you may then think of trying to undo what you have done. +But it will be useless. If I saw you on your knees begging my forgiveness, +I should not have a word of pity for you. Adieu, madame. We shall live as +you have willed it."</p> + +<p>Claire simply bent her head in assent. Philippe gave her a last glance, +hoping for some softening; but she remained inert and frigid. He slowly +opened the door, and closed it, pausing again to listen if a cry or a sigh +would give him--wounded as he was--a pretext for returning and offering to +forgive. But all was silent.</p> + +<p>"Proud creature," said he. "You refuse to bend, but I will break +you."</p> + +<p>The next morning Claire was found insensible, and for months she lay +ill, nursed by Philippe with silent devotion. From that time forth his +manner did not change. Gentle and most attentive to Claire in the presence +of strangers, he was cold, grave, and strictly polite when they were +alone.</p> + + +<h4><i>IV.--The Lover's Reward</i></h4> + + +<p>In the first expansion of her return to life she had decided she would +be amiable, and frankly grant her friendship to Philippe, but saw, to her +mortification, she was disposed to grant more than was asked of her. When +he handed her "the income of her fortune, for six months," she became in a +moment the proud Claire of other times, and refused to take it. Their eyes +met; she relapsed, conquered. He it was she loved now. She constantly +looked at him, and did whatever she thought would please him. She learnt +with surprise that her husband was on the high road to becoming one of the +princes of industry--that great power of the century. And when she learnt, +accidentally from her brother, that she herself had had no dowry, she said, +"I must win him back, or I shall die!"</p> + +<p>The Duc and Duchess de Bligny arrived at La Varenne. La Varenne became +the scene of numerous fetes, but Claire excused herself from attending on +the ground that she was not yet well enough to sit up late. +Athénais' anticipated pleasure was all lost, since she could not +crush her rival with her magnificence. In her jealous rage she began to +devote particular attention to Monsieur Derblay. At last, Claire judged the +cup was full, and on her fête day, encouraged for the first time by +her husband's glances, called Athénais aside and entreated her to +stay away from their home for a time, at least. Athénais, pale with +rage, replied insultingly, and Claire summoned the duke to take his wife +away if he did not wish her to be turned out in presence of everyone.</p> + +<p>With perfect composure Bligny asked Philippe if he approved of what +Madame Derblay had done. In a grave voice, the ironmaster answered, +"Monsieur le Duc, whatever Madame Derblay may do, whatever reason she may +have for doing it, I consider everything she does as well done."</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>Claire saw two pistols lowered. With a shriek, she bounded forward and +clapped her hand on the muzzle of Bligny's pistol!</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>An hour had elapsed without her regaining consciousness. The ironmaster +was leaning over her. Suddenly her eyes opened, and she threw her arms +round his neck. An acute pain passed through her hand, and she remembered +everything--her despair, her anguish, and her sacrifice.</p> + +<p>"One word?" she asked. "Tell me, do you love me?"</p> + +<p>Philippe showed her a radiant face.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I love you," he replied.</p> + +<p>A cry escaped Claire. She clung frantically to Philippe; their eyes met, +and in inexpressible ecstasy they exchanged their first kiss of love.</p> + +<hr /> + + + + +<h2><a name="OUIDA_LOUISE_DE_LA_RAMEE"></a>OUIDA (LOUISE DE LA +RAMÉE)</h2> + + +<h3><a name="Under_Two_Flags"></a>Under Two Flags</h3> + + +<blockquote> There are few women writers who have created more stir by +their works than Louise de la Ramée, the lady who wrote under the +pen name of Ouida. Born of English and French parentage at Bury St. Edmund, +England, in 1840, she began to turn to account her undoubted literary +talents at the age of twenty, when she contributed to the "New Monthly" and +"Bentley's Magazine." In the same year appeared her first long story, +"Granville de Vigne," which was afterwards renamed and republished as "Held +in Bondage." From that time an amazing output of romances fell in rapid +succession from her pen, the most picturesque of them, perhaps, being +"Under Two Flags" (1867) and "Moths." With respect to the former, although +on occasions it exhibits a tendency towards inaccurate observation, the +story is told with rare dramatic force and descriptive power. From 1874, +Mlle. Ramée made her home in Italy, where, at Lucca, in spite of her +reputation as a novelist, she died in straightened circumstances Jan. 25, +1908. </blockquote> + + +<h4><i>I.--An Officer of the Guards</i></h4> + + +<p>A Guardsman at home is always luxuriously accommodated, and the Hon. +Bertie Cecil, second son of Viscount Royallieu, was never behind his +fellows in anything; besides, he was one of the crack officers of the 1st +Life Guards, and ladies sent him pretty things enough to fill the Palais +Royal.</p> + +<p>Then Hon. Bertie was known generally in the brigade as "Beauty," and the +appellative, gained at Eton, was in no way undeserved. His face, with as +much delicacy and brilliancy as a woman's, was at once handsome, +thoroughbred, languid, nonchalant with a certain latent recklessness, under +the impassive calm of habit.</p> + +<p>Life petted him and pampered him; lodged him like a prince, dined him +like a king, and had never let him feel the want of all that is bought by +money. How could he understand that he was not as rich a man as his oldest +and closest comrade, Lord Rockingham, a Colossus, known as "the Seraph," +the eldest son of the Duke of Lyonesse?</p> + +<p>A quarrel with his father (whom he always alluded to as "Royal") +reminded him that he was ruined; that he would get no help from the old +lord, or from his elder brother, the heir. He was hopelessly in debt; +nothing but the will of his creditors stood between him and the fatal hour +when he must "send in his papers to sell," and be "nowhere" in the great +race of life.</p> + +<p>An appeal for money from his young brother, Berkeley, whom he really +loved, forced Cecil to look, for the first time, blankly in the face of +ruin that awaited him.</p> + +<p>Berkeley, a boy of twenty, had been gambling, and came to Cecil, as he +had come often enough before, with his tale of needs. It was £300 +Berkeley wanted, and he had already borrowed £100 from a friend--a +shameless piece of degradation in Cecil's code.</p> + +<p>"It is no use to give you false hopes, young one," said Cecil gently. "I +can do nothing. If the money were mine it should be yours at a word. But I +am all downhill, and my bills may be called in at any moment."</p> + +<p>"You are such chums with Rockingham, and he's as rich as all the Jews +put together. What harm could there be if you asked him to lend you some +money for me?"</p> + +<p>Cecil's face darkened.</p> + +<p>"You will bring some disgrace on us before you die, Berkeley," he said. +"Have you no common knowledge of honour? If I did such a thing I should +deserve to be hounded out of the Guards to-morrow. The only thing for you +to do is to go down and tell Royal, he will sell every stick and stone for +your sake."</p> + +<p>"I would rather cut my throat," said the boy. "I have had so much from +him lately."</p> + +<p>But in the end he promised to go.</p> + +<p>It was hard for Bertie to get it into his brain that he really was at +the end of his resources. There still seemed one chance open to him. He was +a fearless rider, and his horse, Forest King, was famous for its powers. He +entered him for a great race at Baden, and piled on all he could, +determined to be sunk or saved by the race. If he won he might be able to +set things right for a time, and then family influence ought to procure him +an advance in the Guards.</p> + +<p>Forest King had never failed its master hitherto, and Bertie would have +been saved by his faithful steed, but for the fact that a blackguardly turf +welcher doctored the horse's mouth, and Forest King was beaten, and +couldn't finish the course.</p> + +<p>"Something ails King," said Cecil calmly, "he is fairly knocked off his +legs. Some vet must look to him; ridden a yard further he will fall."</p> + + +<h4><i>II "A Mystery--An Error"</i></h4> + + +<p>Cecil knew that with the failure of Forest King had gone the last plank +that saved him from ruin, perhaps the last chance that stood between him +and dishonour. He had never looked on it as within the possibilities of +hazard that the horse could be defeated, and the blow fell with crushing +force; the fiercer because his indolence had persisted in ignoring his +danger, and his whole character was so accustomed to ease and to +enjoyment.</p> + +<p>He got away from his companions, and wandered out alone into the gardens +in the evening sunlight, throwing himself on a bench beneath a +mountain-ash.</p> + +<p>Here the little Lady Venetia, the eight-year-old sister of the colossal +Seraph, found him, and Cecil roused himself, and smiled at her.</p> + +<p>"They say you have lost all your money," said the child, "and I want you +to take mine. It is my <i>very</i> own. Papa gives it to me to do just what +I like with it. Please do take it."</p> + +<p>Twenty bright Napoleons fell in a glittering shower on the grass.</p> + +<p>"<i>Petite reine</i>," Cecil murmured gently, "how some man will love +you one day. I cannot take your money, and you will understand why when you +are older. But I will take this if you will give it me," and he picked up a +little enamelled sweetmeat box, and slipped it into his waistcoat pocket. +It was only a child's gift, but he kept it through many a dark day and wild +night.</p> + +<p>At that moment as he stood there, with the child beside him, one of the +men of the gardens brought him an English letter, marked "instant." Cecil +took it wearily, broke the envelope, and read a scrawled, miserable letter, +blotted with hot tears, and scored out in impulsive misery. The Lady +Venetia went slowly away and when next they met it was under the burning +sun of Africa.</p> + +<p>Alone, Cecil's head sank down upon his hands.</p> + +<p>"Oh, God!" he thought. "If it were anything--anything except +disgrace!"</p> + +<p>An hour later and the Seraph's servant brought him a message, asking him +to come to Lord Rockingham's rooms immediately.</p> + +<p>Cecil went, and the Seraph crossed the room with his hand held out; not +for his life in that moment would he have omitted that gesture of +friendship. There was a third person in the room, a Jew, M. Baroni, who +held a folded paper, with the forged signature of <i>Rockingham</i> on it, +and another signature, the name of the forger in whose favour the bill was +drawn; that other signature was--<i>Bertie Cecil</i>.</p> + +<p>"Cecil, my dear fellow," said the Seraph, "I'm ashamed to send for you +on such a blackguard errand! Here, M. Baroni, make your statement. Later +on, Mr. Cecil can avenge it."</p> + +<p>"My statement is easily made," said the Jew. "I simply charge the Hon. +Bertie Cecil with having negotiated a bill with my firm for £750 +month, drawn in his own favour, and accepted at two months' date by your +lordship. Your signature you, my lord marquis, admit to be a forgery. With +that forgery I charge your friend!"</p> + +<p>Cecil stood silent, with a strange anguish on his face.</p> + +<p>"I am not guilty," he said quietly.</p> + +<p>"Beauty--Beauty! Never say that to <i>me</i>!" said the Seraph. "Do you +think <i>I</i> can ever doubt you?"</p> + +<p>"It is a matter of course," replied Baroni, "that Mr. Cecil denies the +accusation. It is very wise. But I <i>must</i> arrest Mr. Cecil! Were you +alone, my lord, you could prosecute or not, as you please; but ours is the +money obtained by that forgery. If Mr. Cecil will accompany me +unresistingly, I will not summon legal force."</p> + +<p>"Cecil, tell me what is to be done?" said the Seraph hoarsely. "I will +send for the duke--"</p> + +<p>"Send for no one. I will go with this man. He is right as far as he +knows. The whole is a--a mystery--an error."</p> + +<p>Cecil hesitated a moment; then he stretched out his hand. "Will you take +it--still?"</p> + +<p>"Take it! Before all the world, always, come what will!"</p> + +<p>The Seraph's voice rang clear as the ring of silver. Another moment, and +the door had closed. Cecil went slowly out beside his accuser, not blaming +the Jew in anything.</p> + +<p>Once out in the air, the Hebrew laid his hand on his arm. Presently, in +a side-street, three figures loomed in the shadow of the houses--a German +official, the commissary of police, and an English detective. The Hebrew +had betrayed him, and arrested him in the open street.</p> + +<p>In an instant all the pride and blood of his race was up. He wrenched +his wrists free and with his left arm felled the detective to earth with a +crushing blow. The German---a powerful and firmly-built man--was on him at +once, but Cecil's science was the finer. For a second the two rocked in +close embrace, and then the German fell heavily.</p> + +<p>The cries of Baroni drew a crowd at once, but Cecil dashed, with the +swiftness of the deer, forward into the gathering night.</p> + +<p>Flight! The craven's refuge--the criminal's resource! Flight! He wished +in the moment's agony that they would send a bullet through his brain.</p> + +<p>Soon the pursuers were far behind. But Cecil knew that he had but the +few remaining hours of night left to save those for whom he had elected to +sacrifice his life.</p> + + +<h4><i>III.--Under Another Flag</i></h4> + + +<p>Cigarette was the pet of the army of Africa, and was as lawless as most +of her patrons. She was the Friend of the Flag. Soldiers had been about her +from her cradle. They had been her books, her teachers, her guardians, and, +later on, her lovers, all the days of her life. She had no sense of duty +taught her, except to face fire boldly, never to betray a comrade, and to +worship but two deities--"<i>la Gloire</i>" and "<i>la France</i>." Her own +sex would have seen no good in her, but her comrades-in-arms could, and +did. A certain chasseur d'Afrique in this army at Algiers puzzled her. He +treated her with a grave courtesy, that made her wish, with impatient scorn +for the wish, that she knew how to read, and had not her hair cut short +like a boy's--a weakness the little vivandière had never been +visited with before.</p> + +<p>"You are too fine for us, <i>mon brave</i>," she said pettishly once to +this chasseur. "They say you are English, but I don't believe it. Say what +you are, then?"</p> + +<p>"A soldier of France. Can you wish me more?"</p> + +<p>"True," she said simply. "But you were not always a soldier of France? +You joined, they say, twelve years ago. What were you before then?"</p> + +<p>"Before?" he answered slowly. "Well--a fool"</p> + +<p>"You belonged to the majority, then!" said Cigarette. "But why did you +come into the service? You were born in the noblesse--bah, I know an +aristocrat at a glance! What ruined you, Monsieur l'Aristocrat?"</p> + +<p>"Aristocrat? I am none. I am Louis Victor, a corporal of the +chasseurs."</p> + +<p>"You are dull, <i>mon brave</i>."</p> + +<p>Cigarette left him, and made her way to the officers' quarters. High or +low, they were all the same to Cigarette, and she would have talked to the +emperor himself as coolly as she did to any private.</p> + +<p>She praised the good looks of the corporal of chasseurs, and his +colonel, M. le Marquis de Châteauroy, answered, with a curse, "I wish +my corporal were shot! One can never hear the last of him!"</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, the corporal of chasseurs sat alone among the stones of a +ruined mosque. He was a dashing cavalry soldier, who had a dozen wounds cut +over his body by the Bedouin swords in many and hot skirmishes; who had +waited through sultry African nights for the lion's tread; and who had +served well in fierce, arduous work in trying campaigns and in close +discipline.</p> + +<p>From the extremes of luxury and indolence Cecil came to the extremes of +hardship and toil. He had borne the change mutely, and without a murmur, +though the first years were years of intense misery. His comrades had grown +to love him, seeing his courage and his willingness to help them, with a +rough, dog-like love.</p> + +<p>Twelve years ago in England it was accepted that Bertie Cecil and his +servant Rake had been killed in a railway accident in France.</p> + +<p>And the solitary corporal of chasseurs read in the "Galignani" of the +death of his father, Viscount Royallieu, and of his elder brother. The +title and estate that should have been his had gone to his younger +brother.</p> + + +<h4><i>IV.--From Death to Life</i></h4> + + +<p>The Seraph, now Duke of Lyonesse, and his sister Venetia, Princess +Corona, came on a visit to the French camp, and with them Berkeley, +Viscount Royallieu. Corporal Louis Victor saw them, and, safe from +recognition himself, knew them. But Cecil was not to go down to the grave +unreleased. First, his brother Berkeley coming upon him alone in the +solitude of a desert camp, made concealment impossible.</p> + +<p>"Have you lived stainlessly <i>since</i>?" were Cecil's only words, +stern as the demand of a judge.</p> + +<p>"God is my witness, yes! But you--they said you were dead. That was my +first disgrace, and my last; you bore the weight of my shame. What can I +say? Such nobility, such sacrifice--"</p> + +<p>It was for himself that Berkeley trembled.</p> + +<p>"I have kept your secret twelve years; I will keep it still," said Cecil +gravely. "Only leave Algeria at once."</p> + +<p>A slight incident revealed the corporal's identity to the Princess +Corona. By his bearing he had attracted the attention of the visitors to +the camp, and on being admitted to the villa of the princess to restore a +gold chain dropped carelessly in the road, he disclosed the little +enamelled box, marked "Venetia," the gift of the child in the garden at +Baden.</p> + +<p>"That box is mine!" cried the princess. "I gave it! And you? You are my +brother's friend? You are Bertie Cecil?"</p> + +<p>"<i>Petite reine</i>!" he murmured.</p> + +<p>Then he acknowledged who he was, not even for his brother's sake could +he have lied to <i>her</i>; but he implored her to say nothing to the +Seraph. "I was innocent, but in honour I can never give you or any living +thing <i>proof</i> that this crime was not mine."</p> + +<p>"He is either a madman or a martyr," she mused, when Cecil had left her. +That he loved her was plain, and the time was not far distant when she +should love him, and be willing to share any sacrifice love and honour +might demand.</p> + +<p>The hatred of Colonel Châteauroy for his corporal brought matters +to a climax. Meeting Cecil returning from his visit to Venetia, +Châteauroy could not refrain from saying insulting things concerning +the princess.</p> + +<p>"<i>You lie</i>!" cried Cecil; "and you know that you lie! Breathe her +name once more, and, as we are both living men, I will have your life for +your outrage!"</p> + +<p>And as he spoke Cecil smote him on the lips.</p> + +<p>Châteauroy summoned the guard, the corporal was placed under +arrest, and brought to court-martial.</p> + +<p>In three days' time Corporal Louis Victor would be shot by order of the +court-martial.</p> + +<p>Cigarette, and Cigarette alone, prevented the sentence being carried +out, and that at the cost of her life.</p> + +<p>She was away from the camp at the time in a Moorish town when the news +came to her; and she stumbled on Berkeley Cecil, and, knowing him for an +Englishman, worked on his feelings, and gave him no rest till he had +acknowledged the condemned man for his elder brother and the lawful +Viscount Royallieu, peer of England.</p> + +<p>With this document, signed and sealed by Berkeley, Cigarette galloped +off to the fortress where the marshal of France, who was Viceroy of Africa, +had arrived. The marshal knew Cigarette; he had decorated her with the +cross for her valour in battle, and with the whole army of Africa he loved +and admired her.</p> + +<p>Cigarette gave him the document, and told him all she knew of the +corporal's heroism. And the marshal promised the sentence should be +deferred until he had found out the whole truth of the matter.</p> + +<p>With the order of release in her bosom Cigarette once more vaulted into +the saddle, to ride hard through the day and night--for at sunrise on the +morrow will the sentence be executed.</p> + +<p>And now it is sunrise, and the prisoner has been brought out to the +slope of earth out of sight of the camp.</p> + +<p>At the last the Seraph appeared, and found in the condemned man the +friend of his youth. It was only with great difficulty that Rockingham was +overpowered, for he swore Cecil should not be killed, and a dozen soldiers +were required to get him away.</p> + +<p>Then Cecil raised his hand, and gave the signal for his own +death-shot.</p> + +<p>The levelled carbines covered him; ere they could fire a shrill cry +pierced the air: "Wait! In the name of France!"</p> + +<p>Dismounted and breathless, Cigarette was by the side of Cecil, and had +flung herself on his breast.</p> + +<p>Her cry came too late; the volley was fired, and while the prisoner +stood erect, grazed only by some of the balls, Cigarette fell, pierced and +broken by the fire. She died in Cecil's arms, with the comrades she had +loved around her.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>It is spring. Cecil is Lord of Royallieu, the Lady Venetia is his +bride.</p> + +<p>"It was worth banishment to return," he murmured to her. "It was worth +the trials that I bore to learn the love that I have known."</p> + +<p>And the memories of both went back to a place in a desert land where the +folds of the tricolour drooped over one little grave--a grave where the +troops saluted as they passed it, because on the white stone there was +carved a name that spoke to every heart:</p> + +<blockquote> + CIGARETTE<br /> + +ENFANT DE L'ARMÉE, SOLDAT DE LA FRANCE.<br /> +</blockquote> + +<hr /> + + + + +<h2><a name="JAMES_PAYN"></a>JAMES PAYN</h2> + + +<h3><a name="Lost_Sir_Massingberd"></a>Lost Sir Massingberd</h3> + + +<blockquote> James Payn, one of the most prolific literary workers of the +second half of the nineteenth century, was born at Cheltenham, England, +Feb. 28, 1830, and died March 23, 1898. After a false start in education +for the army, he went to Cambridge University, where he was president of +the Union, and published some poems. The acceptance of his contributions by +"Household Words" turned him to his true vocation. After writing some years +for "Chambers's Journal" he became its editor from 1850 till 1874. His +first work of fiction, "The Foster Brothers," a story founded on his +college life, appeared in 1859, but it was not until five years later that +Payn's name was established as a novelist. This was on the publication of +"Lost Sir Massingberd, a Romance of Real Life." The story first appeared in +"Chambers's Journal," and is marked by all his good qualities--ingenious +construction, dramatic situations, and a skilful arrangement of incidents. +Altogether, Payn wrote about sixty volumes of novels and short stories. +</blockquote> + + +<h4><i>I.--Neither Fearing God Nor Regarding Man</i></h4> + + +<p>In a Midland county, not as yet scarred by factories, there stands a +village called Fairburn, which at the time I knew it first had for its +squire, its lord, its despot, one Sir Massingberd Heath. Its rector, at +that date, was the Rev. Matthew Long, into whose wardship I, Peter +Meredith, an Anglo-Indian lad, was placed by my parents. I loved Mr. Long, +although he was my tutor; and oh, how I feared and hated Mr. Massingberd! +It was not, however, my boyhood alone that caused me to hold this man as a +monster of iniquity; it was the opinion which the whole county entertained +of him, more or less. Like the unjust judge, he neither feared God nor +regarded man.</p> + +<p>He had been a fast, very fast friend of the regent; but they were no +longer on speaking terms. Sir Massingberd had left the gay, wicked world +for good, and was obliged to live at his beautiful country seat in spite of +himself. He was irretrievably ruined, and house and land being entailed +upon his nephew Marmaduke, he had nothing but a life interest in +anything.</p> + +<p>Marmaduke Heath was Mr. Long's pupil as well as myself, and he resided +with his uncle at the Hall. He dreaded his relative beyond measure. All the +pretended frankness with which the old man sometimes treated the lad was +unable to hide the hate with which Sir Massingberd really regarded him; but +for this heir-presumptive to the entail, the baronet might raise money to +any extent, and once more take his rightful station in the world.</p> + +<p>Abject terror obscured the young existence of Marmaduke Heath. The +shadow of Sir Massingberd cast itself over him alike when he went out from +his hated presence and when he returned to it.</p> + +<p>Soon after my first meeting with Marmaduke, Sir Massingberd unexpectedly +appeared before me. He was a man of Herculean proportions, dressed like an +under-gamekeeper, but with the face of one who was used to command. On his +forehead was a curious indented frown like the letter V, and his lips +curled contemptuously upward in the same shape. These two together gave him +a weird, demoniacal look, which his white beard, although long and flowing, +had not enough of dignity to do away with. He ordered his nephew to go +home, and the boy instantly obeyed, as though he almost dreaded a blow from +his uncle. Then the baronet strode away, and his laugh echoed again and +again, for it was joy to know that he was feared.</p> + +<p>Mr. Long determined to buy a horse for me, and upon my suggestion that I +wished Marmaduke Heath to spend more time in my company, he and I went up +to the Hall to ask Sir Massingberd if he were willing. The squire received +us curtly, and upon hearing of my tutor's intention, declared that he +himself would select a horse for Marmaduke. Then, since he wished to talk +with Mr. Long concerning Mr. Chint, the family lawyer, he bade me go to his +nephew's room, calling upon Grimjaw, a loathsome old dog, to act as my +guide. This beast preceded me up the old oak staircase to a chamber door, +before which it sat and whined. Marmaduke opened this and admitted me, and +we sat talking together.</p> + +<p>My tutor found us together, and knowing the house better than the heir +did, offered to play cicerone and show me over. In the state bed-room, a +great room facing the north, he disclosed to us a secret stairway that +opened behind a full-length portrait. Marmaduke, who had been unaware of +its existence, grew ghastly pale.</p> + +<p>"The foot of the stairway is in the third bookcase on the left of the +library door," said Mr. Long. "I dare say that nobody has moved the picture +for twenty years."</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes!" said Marmaduke passionately. "My uncle has moved it. When I +was ill, upon my coming to Fairburn, I slept here, and I had terrible +visions. I see it all now. He wanted to frighten me to death, or to make me +mad. He would come and stand by my bedside and stare at me. Cruel--cruel +coward!"</p> + +<p>Then he begged us to go away. "My uncle will wonder at your long delay. +He will suspect something," he said.</p> + +<p>"Peter," observed my tutor gravely, as we went homeward, "whatever you +may think of what has passed to-day, say nothing. I am not so ignorant of +the wrongs of that poor boy as I appear, but there is nothing for it but +patience."</p> + + +<h4><i>II.--A Gypsy's Curse</i></h4> + + +<p>In a few days I was in possession of an excellent horse, and Marmaduke +had the like fortune. My tutor examined the steed Sir Massingberd had +bought with great attention, and after commenting on the tightness of the +curb, declared that he would accompany us on our first ride. After we had +left the village, he expressed a wish to change mounts with Marmaduke, and +certainly if he had been a horsebreaker he could not have taken more pains +with the animal. In the end he expressed himself highly satisfied. Some +days afterwards, however, Panther, for so we called the horse, behaved in a +strange and incomprehensible fashion, and at last became positively +fiendish. Shying at a gypsy encampment, he rushed at headlong speed down a +zigzagged chalk road, and at last pitched head-first over a declivity. When +I found Marmaduke blood was at his mouth, blood at his ears, blood +everywhere.</p> + +<p>"Marmaduke, Marmaduke!" I cried. "Speak! Speak, if it be but a single +word! Great heaven, he is dead!"</p> + +<p>"Dead! No, not he," answered a hoarse, cracked voice at my ear. "The +devil would never suffer a Heath of Fairburn to die at his age!"</p> + +<p>"Woman," cried I, for it was an old gypsy, who had somehow transported +herself to the spot, "for God's sake go for help! There is a house yonder +amongst the trees."</p> + +<p>"And why should I stir a foot," replied she fiercely, "for the child of +a race that has ever treated me and mine as dogs?"</p> + +<p>Then she cursed Sir Massingberd as the oppressor of her kith and kin, +concluding with the terrible words, "May he perish, inch by inch, within +reach of the aid that shall never come, ere the God of the poor take him +into His hand!"</p> + +<p>"If you hate Sir Massingberd Heath," said I despairingly, "and want to +do him the worst service that lies in your power, flee, flee to that house, +and bid them save this boy's life, which alone stands between his beggared +uncle and unknown riches!"</p> + +<p>Revenge accomplished what pity had failed to work. She knelt at his +side, from a pocket produced a spirit-flask in a leathern case, and applied +it to his lips. After a painful attempt to swallow, he succeeded; his +eyelids began tremulously to move, and the colour to return to his pallid +cheeks. She disappeared; during her absence I noted that the tarnished +silver top of the flask bore upon it a facsimile of one of the identical +griffins which guarded each side of the broad steps that led to Fairburn +Hall.</p> + +<p>After a short interval, a young and lovely girl appeared, accompanied by +a groom and butler, who bore between them a small sofa, on which Marmaduke +was lifted and gently carried to the house. The master came in soon, +accompanied by the local doctor, who at last delivered the verdict that my +friend "would live to be a baronet."</p> + +<p>He said, moreover, that the youth must be kept perfectly quiet, and not +moved thence on any consideration--it might be for weeks. Harvey Gerard, a +noble-looking gentleman, refused to admit Sir Massingberd under his +roof.</p> + +<p>The baronet, however, did appear towards twilight, and forced his way +into the house, where Harvey Gerard met him with great severity. Soon +hatred took the place of all other expressions on the baronet's face, and +he swore that he would see his nephew.</p> + +<p>"That you shall not do, Sir Massingberd," said the gentleman. "If you +attempt to do so, my servants will put you out of the house by force."</p> + +<p>"Before night, then, I shall send for him, and he shall be carried back +to Fairburn, to be nursed in his proper home."</p> + +<p>"Nursed!" repeated Harvey Gerard hoarsely. "Nursed by the +gravedigger!"</p> + +<p>Sir Massingberd turned livid.</p> + +<p>"To hear you talk one would think that I had tried to murder the boy," +he said.</p> + +<p>"I <i>know</i> you did!" cried Harvey Gerard solemnly. "To-day you sent +your nephew forth upon that devil with a snaffle-bridle instead of a curb! +See, I track your thoughts like slime. Base ruffian, begone from beneath +this roof, false coward!"</p> + +<p>Sir Massingberd started up like one stung by an adder.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I say coward!" continued Harvey Gerard. "Heavens, that this +creature should still feel touch of shame! Be off, be off; molest not +anyone within this house at peril of your life! Murderer!"</p> + +<p>For once Sir Massingberd had met his match--and more. He seized his hat, +and hurried from the room.</p> + + +<h4><i>III.--A Wife Undesired</i></h4> + + +<p>When Marmaduke recovered consciousness, twelve hours after his terrible +fall, he told me that he had been given a sign of his approaching +demise.</p> + +<p>"I have seen a vision in the night," he said, "far too sweet and fair +not to have been sent from heaven itself. They say the Heaths have always +ghastly warnings when their hour is come; but this was surely a gentle +messenger."</p> + +<p>"Your angel is Lucy Gerard," replied I quietly, "and we are at this +moment in her father's house."</p> + +<p>He was silent for a time, with features as pale as the pillow on which +he lay; then he repeated her name as though it were a prayer.</p> + +<p>"It would indeed be bitter for me to die <i>now</i>," he said.</p> + +<p>I myself was stricken with love for Lucy Gerard, and would have laid +down my life to kiss her finger-tips. Nearly half a century has passed over +my head since the time of which I write, and yet, I swear to you, my old +heart glows again, and on my withered cheeks there comes a blush as I call +to mind the time when I first met that pure and lovely girl. But from the +moment that Marmaduke Heath spoke to me as he did, upon his bed of +sickness, of our host's daughter, I determined within myself not only to +stand aside, and let him win if he could, but to help him by all the means +within my power. And so it came about that later I told Lucy that his +recovery depended upon her kindness, and won her to look upon him with +compassion and with tenderness.</p> + +<p>Mr. Clint, the lawyer, came from London, and arrangements were made for +Marmaduke to continue in Harvey Gerard's care, and when Marmaduke was +convalescent the Gerards removed him to their residence in Harley street. +After I had bidden them farewell, I rode slowly towards Fairburn, but was +stopped at some distance by a young gypsy boy, who summoned me to the +encampment to converse with the aged woman whom I had seen on the occasion +of the accident. She bade me sit down beside her, and after a time produced +the silver-mounted flask, concerning whose history I felt great curiosity. +I asked her how it came into her possession, and she herself asked a +question in turn.</p> + +<p>"Has it never struck you why Sir Massingberd has not long ago taken to +himself a young wife, and begotten an heir for the lands of Fairburn, in +despite of his nephew?"</p> + +<p>"If that be so," said I, "why does not Sir Massingberd marry?"</p> + +<p>Thereupon she told me that many years ago he had joined their company, +and shared their wandering fortune. Her sister Sinnamenta, a beautiful girl +beloved by the handsome Stanley Carew, had fascinated him, and he would +have married her according to gypsy rites; but since her father did not +believe that he meant to stay with the tribe longer than it suited him, he +peremptorily refused his request. Sir Massingberd left them; they struck +tent at once, and travelled to Kirk Yetholm, in Roxburghshire, a mile from +the frontier of Northumberland. There the wretch followed her, and again +proposed to go through the Cingari ceremony, and this time the father +consented. It was on the wedding-day that he gave my informant the +shooting-flask as a remembrance, just before he and his wife went away +southward. Long months afterwards Sinnamenta returned heart-stricken, +woebegone, about to become a mother, with nothing but wretchedness in the +future, and even her happy past a dream dispelled.</p> + +<p>The gypsies were at Fairburn again, and Sinnamenta's father sent for Sir +Massingberd, and he was told that the marriage was legal, Kirk Yetholm +being over the border. An awful silence succeeded this disclosure. Sir +Massingberd turned livid, and twice in vain essayed to speak; he was +well-nigh strangled with passion. At last he caught Sinnamenta's Wrist with +fingers of steel.</p> + +<p>"What man shall stop me from doing what I will with my own?" he cried. +"Come along with me, my pretty one!"</p> + +<p>Stanley Carew flung himself upon him, knife in hand; but the others +plucked him backward, and Sir Massingberd signed to his wife to followed +him, and she obeyed. That night Stanley Carew was arrested on a false +charge of horse-stealing, and lying witnesses soon afterwards brought him +to the gallows.</p> + +<p>"I know not what she suffered immediately after she was taken from us," +concluded the old woman. "But this I have heard, that when he told her of +the death of Stanley Carew, she fell down like one dead, and presently, +being delivered of a son, the infant died after a few hours. Yonder," she +looked menacingly towards Fairburn Hall, "the mother lives--a maniac. What +else could keep me here in a place that tortures me with memories of my +youth, and of loving faces that have crumbled into dust? What else but the +hope of one day seeing my little sister yet, and the vengeance of Heaven +upon him who has worked her ruin? If Massingberd Heath escape some awful +end, there is no Avenger on high. I am old, but I shall see it yet, I shall +see it before I die."</p> + + +<h4><i>IV.--The Curse Fulfilled</i></h4> + + +<p>I returned to Fairburn, and soon Sir Massingberd, finding that all +correspondence with his nephew was interrupted by Harvey Gerard, began to +pay small attentions to my tutor and myself. At last he appeared at the +rectory, and desired me to forward a letter to Marmaduke. This--finding +nothing objectionable in the contents--I agreed to do, and he departed, +after inviting me to make use of his grounds whenever I pleased. On the +morrow I yielded to curiosity, and after wandering to and fro in the park, +came near a small stone house with unglazed, iron-grated windows. A short, +sharp shriek clove the humid air, and approaching, I looked into a +sitting-room, where an ancient female sat eating a chicken without knife or +fork. Her hair was scanty and white as snow, but hung almost to the +ground.</p> + +<p>"Permit me to introduce myself," she said. "I am Sinnamenta, Lady Heath. +You are not Stanley Carew, are you? They told me that he was hung, but I +know better than that. To be hung for nothing must be a terrible thing; but +how much worse to be hung for love! It is not customary to watch a lady +when she is partaking of refreshment."</p> + +<p>Then the poor mad creature turned her back, and I withdrew from the sad +scene. A day or two afterwards the post carried misfortune from me to +Harley Street. The wily baronet had fooled me, and had substituted a +terrible letter for that which he had persuaded me to enclose to his +nephew.</p> + +<p>"Return hither, sir, at once," he had written. "It is far worse than +idle to attempt to cross my will. I give you twenty-four hours to arrive +after the receipt of this letter. I shall consider your absence to be +equivalent to a contumacious refusal. However well it may seem with you, it +will not be well. Whenever you think yourself safest, you will be most in +danger. There is, indeed, but one place of safety for you; come you +home."</p> + +<p>Very soon afterwards, and before we knew of this villainy, word reached +us that the baronet was lost, and could not be found. He had started on his +usual nocturnal rounds in the preserves, and nobody had seen him since +midnight. Old Grimjaw, the dog, had been found on the doorstep, nigh frozen +to death.</p> + +<p>The news spread like wild-fire through Fairburn village. I myself joined +the searchers, but soon separated from them, and passing the home spinney, +near by which was the famous Wolsey oak, a tree of great age. I heard a +sound that set my heart beating, and fluttering like the wings of a +prisoned bird against its cage. Was it a strangled cry for "Help!" repeated +once, twice, thrice, or was it the cold wind clanging and grinding the +naked branches of the spinney? But nought living was to be seen; a bright +wintry sun completely penetrated the leafless woodland. At last I came upon +the warm but lifeless body of Grimjaw lying on the grass, and I hurried +madly from the accursed place to where the men were dragging the lake.</p> + +<p>No clue was found, and my tutor began to fear that the gypsies had made +away with their enemy. Word came that they had passed through the turnpike +with a covered cart, and we rode out to interview them. The old woman met +us, and conducted us to the vehicle, when we found Sinnamenta, Lady Heath, +weaving rushes into crowns.</p> + +<p>"My little sister is not beaten now," said the beldam. "May God's curse +have found Sir Massingberd! I would that I had his fleshless bones to show +you. Where he may be we know not; we only hope that in some hateful spot he +may be suffering unimagined pains!"</p> + +<p>By the next post I received bitter news from Harley Street. A copy of +the menacing epistle reached me from Harvey Gerard. In a postscript Lucy +added that Marmaduke was too ill to write. An hour later Mr. Long and I set +off to town, where we found the lad in a less morbid state than we had +expected. He had asked, and gained, Harvey Gerard's permission to marry his +daughter, and the beautiful girl was supporting him with all her +strength.</p> + +<p>The services of Townsend, the great Bow street runner, were called for; +but in spite of his endeavours, no solution was discovered to the mystery +of Sir Massingberd's disappearance. Fairburn Hall remained without a +master, occupied only by the servants.</p> + +<p>At last Marmaduke came of age, and as he and Lucy were now man and wife, +it was decreed that they must return to the old home. Art changed that +sombre house into a comfortable and splendid mansion, and when Lucy brought +forth a son, the place seemed under a blessing, and no longer under a +curse. But it was not until the christening feast of the young heir was +celebrated with due honour that the secret of Sir Massingberd's +disappearance was discovered.</p> + +<p>Some young boys, playing at hide-and-seek, were using the Wolsey oak for +"home," and, whilst waiting there, dug a hole with their knives, and came +upon a life-preserver that the baronet had always carried. Then a keeper +climbed the tree, and cried out that it was hollow, and there was a +skeleton inside.</p> + +<p>"It's my belief," said the man, "that Sir Massingberd must have climbed +up into the fork to look about him for poachers, and that the wood gave way +beneath him, and let him down feet foremost into the trunk."</p> + +<p>Later, as I looked upon the ghastly relics of humanity, the old gypsy's +curse recurred to my mind with dreadful distinctness. "May he perish, inch +by inch, within reach of the aid that shall never come, ere the God of the +poor take him into His hand."</p> + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The World's Greatest Books, Vol VI., by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WORLD'S GREATEST BOOKS *** + +***** This file should be named 11180-h.htm or 11180-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/1/1/8/11180/ + +Produced by John Hagerson, Kevin Handy and PG Distributed Proofreaders + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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